by Tom Stoppard
Rajah No, no. Independence would be the beginning of the end for the Princely States. Though in a sense you are right, too – Independence will be the end of the unity of the Subcontinent. Look at the hullabaloo in the town yesterday. You tell Mr Churchill from me, Miss Crewe. My grandfather stood firm with the British during the First Uprising.
Flora The …?
Rajah In 1857 the danger was from fundamentalists –
Flora The Mutiny …
Rajah – today it is the progressives. Marxism. Civil disobedience. But I told the Viceroy, you have to fight them the same way, you won’t win by playing cricket.
There is a pause in the cavalcade of motor cars. A servant appears with a tray of drinks, fruit, a cigarette box, finger bowls and napkins.
Ah, the first interval. Do you smoke? No? I enjoy a cigarette. You must tell me when you have had enough of automobiles. There are one or two things in my apartments which have drawn favourable comment from historians of Indian art, even exclamations of delight if I may be honest with you. Do you enjoy art, Miss Crewe? But of course you do, you are a poet. I would be happy to show you.
Flora I would like that very much.
Rajah You would really? Yes, I can see you are a true seeker. My ancestors’ atelier produced some work which in my opinion compares with the best workshops of Rajasthan.
Flora I would like to see everything!
Rajah So you shall. Well, not quite everything, perhaps. Some of the most exquisite work, alas, is considered indelicate.
Flora Considered by whom? By you?
Rajah Oh no. In my culture, you see, erotic art has a long history and a most serious purpose.
Flora (unangrily) But only for men, your Highness?
Rajah I have made you angry. I am terribly sorry. I should not have mentioned it.
Flora I’m very glad you did. Otherwise I should not have seen it.
Rajah (comfortably) Oh, my dear Miss Crewe, you are making me uncomfortable! What can I say?
Flora What do you usually say, Your Highness? Well … here are some more cars … I’m going to leave it to you.
Another car purrs by in front of them
(Pleased) Oh – a Silver Ghost. Goodness, that’s beautiful.
Rajah Will you not have some fruit, Miss Crewe?
Flora Yes, I think I might. Thank you. (From the tray, which is piled up with tangerines, bananas, lychees, etc., she takes an apricot. She bites into it.) Apricot is my favourite word.
Rajah Miss Crewe, you shall see all the paintings you wish to see; on the condition that you allow me to choose one to present to you.
Flora Oh…. thank you, Your Highness, but if there are going to be conditions, I’m not sure I want to see any.
Rajah The English ladies came, Mrs Tuke, Mrs Stokely-Smith, Mrs Blane … a dozen of them, to see the lily pools, the flower garden … They drank tea with me and I offered them fruit, but they would only eat the fruit which had a skin they could remove, you see.
Flora Yes. I see. Then I accept.
One of the next cars makes Flora gasp and almost jump out of her chair.
Oh! – I know that one!
Rajah Of course you do, Miss Crewe!
Flora No, I really know it. Where did you get it?
Rajah Well … from a car shop.
Flora Could you make him stop a moment.
Flora stands up. The Rajah signals for the car to stop and it does so, idling. Flora takes a step or two towards the unseen car.
Rajah Would you like a ride in it?
Flora shakes her head.
Flora ‘And oh my darling, it was Gus’s Bentley! I mean it was absolutely the one I broke my engagement in when I took Gus to the French pictures at Heals – it still had the AB number-plate! I almost started to cry, not for the car, for Modi.’ (Going to the car, she leaves the stage.)
Pike Augustus de Boucheron enjoyed brief celebrity as a millionaire philanthropist and patron of the arts. FC met him – and received his proposal of marriage – on December 3rd 1917. The occasion was Modigliani’s first show, in Paris. FC sat for the artist soon afterwards. At the exhibition of Modern French Art at Heal and Sons in the Tottenham Court Road, London, in August 1919, Modigliani was one of several newer artists shown with the better known Matisse, Picasso and Derain. FC arrived at Heals with de Boucheron, expecting to see her portrait, but before they got out of the Bentley she discovered that her fiancé had bought the painting from the artist and, as he triumphantly confessed, taken it back to the Ritz Hotel and burned it in a bathtub. In the ensuing row, FC returned de Boucheron’s engagement ring, and made plans to sit for Modigliani again in the autumn of that year. But she delayed, arriving in Paris only on the morning of January 23rd, unaware that Modigliani had been taken to hospital. He died on the following evening, without regaining consciousness, of tuberculosis, aged thirty-five. De Boucheron, under his real name Perkins Butcher, went to prison in 1925 for issuing a false prospectus. His end is unknown.
The Rajah looks around the courtyard seeking someone … and spots Pike. Pike has not noticed him. The Rajah, soi disant, approaches Pike.
Rajah Professor Pike …?
Pike (jumping up) Oh! – indeed, yes – thank you.
Rajah (shaking hands) How do you do?
Pike An honour, sir.
Rajah (waving Pike back into his chair) Please … I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. But what I say is, a punctual politician is a politician who does not have enough to do. In other words, an impossibility.
Pike I’m so grateful to you for this.
Rajah No, no – delighted. I hope you find the hotel comfortable? We are not one of the international chains, you know. You mustn’t be deluded on that point, no matter how much we exert ourselves to delude you.
Pike The hotel is excellent, your Highness.
Rajah Actually, I am, in fact, just one of 542 members of the Lok Sabha, the House of the People, popularly elected, I am happy to say, by this District. Thank you so much for your book. I have already read the Indian letters. Perhaps you are wondering what happened to my grandfather’s motor cars.
Pike No, I hadn’t really … what did happen to them?
Rajah My rather presented them to the war effort. I can’t think what he had in mind. Despatches carried by Rolls Royce, Staff Officers reporting for duty in snazzy Italian racing models … But by that time the collection had suffered the attrition of my grandfather’s generosity. He gave several away, sometimes as farewell presents to his lady friends. Which brings me to your letter. To begin with, there was a disappointment. There is no Flora Crewe in the visitors book in April 1930. However, my archivist has excelled himself. (He takes a letter from his pocket.) The Collected Letters are not complete!
Pike A letter from Flora?
Rajah A thank-you note.
Pike May I?
The Rajah gives him the letter and waits while Pike reads it.
He gave her a painting.
Rajah I believe we have identified it. Or rather, the volume from which it came. A miniature. From our Gita Govinda of about 1790, artist unknown. The series is by no means complete, but even so, I wish my grandfather had given her a motor car.
Pike Thank you. Yes, indeed. (He gives the letter back.)
Rajah I had a copy made for you. (He gives Pike the copy of the letter.)
Pike Thank you. That was thoughtful of you. The Gita Govinda … would that be anything to do with a herdswoman, Radha?
Rajah But absolutely. It is the story of Radha and Krishna.
Pike Yes. And … erotic? She could have been nude?
Rajah Well, let us say, knowing His Highness, the painting would have been appropriate to the occasion.
Pike A watercolour, of course. On paper.
Rajah Are you not feeling well, Professor Pike?
Pike No, I’m fine. Thank you. Actually, I’m just head of the Department, we don’t have a Chair … Please call me Eldon.
Rajah (getting up)
Well, Eldon …
They shake hands.
I hope I have been of some service to your biography of Miss Crewe.
Pike Yes. You could say that. But thanks anyway. (correcting) A lot. Thanks a lot. (remembering himself) Thank you, Your Highness. (correcting) Sir.
Rajah (in Hindi) Farewell!
Pike Is that your Christian name?
Rajah Actually, I am not Christian. No, I was saying goodbye. (in Hindi) Farewell!
Pike (alone; under his breath) Oh, shit.
Nirad Das and Coomaraswami are sitting on Flora’s verandah. It is evening, nearly dark. They have not lit the lamp. A car is heard delivering Flora back to the guesthouse. Possibly the sweep of the headlights shows Das and Coomaraswami rising to greet Flora. She approaches the verandah, dark again, not seeing them, and is startled.
Flora Oh, Mr Das!
Das Good evening, Miss Crewe! I’m sorry if we frightened you.
Flora And Mr Coomaraswami!
Coomaraswami Yes, it is me, Miss Crewe.
Flora Good evening. What a surprise.
Coomaraswami I assure you – I beg you – we have not come to presume on your hospitality –
Flora I wish I had some whisky to offer you, but will you come inside.
Coomaraswami It will be cooler for you to remain on the verandah.
Flora Let me find Nazrul.
Coomaraswami He is not here, evidently. But perhaps now that the mistress has returned it is permitted to light the lamp?
Flora Yes, of course.
Coomaraswami So much more pleasant than sitting in the electric light. (He lights the oil lamp.) There we are. And the moon will clear the house-tops in a few minutes …
Flora Please sit down.
Coomaraswami May I take this chair?
Flora No, that’s Mr Das’s chair. And this is mine. So that leaves you with the sofa.
Coomaraswami (sitting down) Oh yes, very comfortable. Thank you, Miss Crewe. Mr Das told me that I was exceeding our rights of acquaintance with you in coming to see you without proper arrangement, and even more so to lie in wait for you like mulaquatis. If it is so, he is blameless. Please direct your displeasure to me.
Das Miss Crewe does not understand mulaquatis.
Coomaraswami Petitioners!
Flora In this house you are always friends.
Coomaraswami Mr Das, what did I tell you!
Flora But what can I do for you?
Das Nothing at all! We require nothing!
Flora Oh …
Coomaraswami Have you had a pleasant day, Miss Crewe?
Flora Extremely interesting. I have been visiting his Highness the Rajah.
Coomaraswami My goodness!
Flora I believe you knew that, Mr Coomaraswami.
Coomaraswami Oh, you have found me out!
Flora He showed me his cars … and we had an interesting conversation, about art …
Coomaraswami And poetry, of course.
Flora And politics.
Coomaraswami Politics, yes. I hope, we both hope – that your association with, that our association with, in fact – if we caused you embarrassment, if you thought for a moment that I personally would have knowingly brought upon you, compromised you, by association with –
Flora Stop, stop. Mr Das, I am going to ask you. What is the matter?
Das The matter?
Flora I shall be absolutely furious in a moment.
Das Yes, yes, quite so. My friend Coomaraswami, speaking as President of the Theosophical Society, wishes to say that if His Highness reproached you or engaged you in any unwelcome conversation regarding your connection with the Society, he feels responsible, and yet at the same time wishes you to know that –
Flora His Highness never mentioned the Theosophical Society.
Das Ah.
Coomaraswami Not at all, Miss Crewe?
Flora Not at all.
Coomaraswami Oh … well, jolly good!
Flora What has happened?
Coomaraswami Ah well, it is really of no interest. I am very sorry to have mentioned it. And we must leave you, it was not right to trouble you after all. Will you come, Mr Das?
Flora I hope it is nothing to do with my lecture?
Coomaraswami (getting up) Oh no! Certainly not!
Das Nothing!
Coomaraswami Mr Das said we should not mention the thing, and how truly he spoke. I am sorry. Goodnight, Miss Crewe –
Coomaraswami shouts towards somebody distant, in Hindi, and the explanation is an approaching jingle of harness, horse and buggy; Coomaraswami goes offstage to meet it.
Das I am coming, Mr Coomaraswami. Please wait for me a moment.
Flora If you expect to be my friends, you must behave like friends and not like whatever-you-called-it. Tell me what has happened.
Coomaraswami (offstage) Mr Das!
Das (shouts) Please wait!
Flora Well?
Das The Theosophical Society has been suspended, you see. The order came to Mr Coomaraswami’s house last night.
Flora But why?
Das Because of the disturbances in the town.
Flora The riot?
Das Yes, the riot.
Flora I know about it. The Hindus wanted the Moslems to close their shops. What has that to do with the Theosophical Society?
Coomaraswami (offstage) I am going, Mr Das!
Das (shouts) I come now! (to Flora) Mr Coomaraswami is a man with many hats! And His Highness the Rajah is not a nationalist. I must leave you, Miss Crewe. (He hesitates.) I think I will not be coming tomorrow. Do you mind if I fetch my painting away now?
Flora I think that’s up to you, Mr Das. I put everything inside.
Das asks permission to put on the electric light.
Das May I?
He starts gathering his possessions. Flora turns down the oil lamp.
Flora I think I should leave tomorrow.
Das Tomorrow?
Flora I think I must. Every day seems hotter than the day before.
Das Yes, you are right of course. The humidity …
Flora Mr Das, did you tell people I was ill?
Das What do you mean?
Flora That I came to India for my health?
Coomaraswami (more distant) I cannot wait, Mr Das!
Das (shouts) A moment! (to Flora) Why do you ask me that?
Flora He is leaving you behind.
The horse and buggy are heard departing.
Das I will walk, then.
Flora It seems that everyone from the Rajah to the Resident knows all about me. I told no one except you. If I want people to know things, I tell them myself, you see. I’m sorry to mention it but if there’s something wrong between two friends I always think it is better to say what it is.
Das Oh … my dear Miss Crewe … it was known to all long before you arrived in Jummapur. Mr Chamberlain’s letter said exactly why you were coming. This is how it is with us, I’m afraid. The information was not considered to be private, only something to be treated with tact.
Flora Oh …
Das As for the Rajah and the Resident, I am sure they knew before anybody. A letter from England to Mr Coomaraswami would certainly be opened.
Flora Oh …
Das is embarrassed by her tears.
Das You must not blame yourself. Please.
Flora Oh, Mr Das … I’m so glad … and so sorry. How idiotic I am. Have you got a hanky?
Das Yes … certainly …
Flora Thank you. And now I have made you walk. Leave everything here.
Das It is not far and the moon is rising, I can manage everything without difficulty. (He brings the easel and his box on to the verandah and returns for the canvas.)
Flora Mr Das. Don’t take it. (Pause.) If it is still a gift, I would like to keep it, just as it is.
Das Unfinished?
Flora Yes. All portraits should be unfinished. Otherwise it’s like looking at a stopped clock. Your handkerchief smells fa
intly of … something nice.
Das The portrait is yours, if you would like it. Of course, I must take it off the stretcher for you, or it will not travel easily in your luggage. Perhaps I can find a knife in the kitchen, to take out the little nails.
Flora There are scissors on the table.
Das Ah, yes. Thank you. No – I think I would damage them. May I call Nazrul?
Flora I thought –
Das Yes – Mr Coomaraswami sent him away. He is suspicious of everyone. I’m sorry.
Flora It doesn’t matter.
A power cut. All the lights go out. The scene continues in moonlight.
Oh!
Das Yes. It is Jummapur, I’m afraid.
Flora Never mind.
Das Will we meet again?
Flora Perhaps, if I come back this way. I must be in Bombay by July the 10th at the latest. My ship sails on the 11th.
Das You may take a later ship.
Flora No, I cannot. My sister … oh, you’ll be horrified, but never mind – my sister is having a baby in October.
Das That is joyful news.
Flora Oh good.
Das Miss Crewe … actually, I have something … I decided I must not show it to you, but if we are friends again … I would like you to see it.
Flora Then I would like to see it.
Das takes a small watercolour out of his pocket.
Das I have wrapped it, although it is itself only a sheet of paper. (He gives it to her.) I can light the lamp.
Flora There is enough light. Mr Coomaraswami was quite right about the moon. (She unwraps the paper.) It’s going to be a drawing, isn’t it? … Oh!
Das (nervous, bright) Yes! A good joke, is it not? A Rajput miniature, by Nirad Das!
Flora (not heeding him) Oh … it’s the most beautiful thing …
Das (brightly) I’m so pleased you like it! A quite witty pastiche –
Flora (heeding him now) Are you going to be Indian? Please don’t.
Das (heeding her) I … I am Indian.
Flora An Indian artist.
Das Yes.
Flora Yes. This one is for yourself.
Das Yes. You are not offended?
Flora No, I’m pleased. It has rasa.
Das I think so. Yes. I hope so.
Flora I forget its name.
Das (pause) Shringara.
Flora Yes. Shringara. The rasa of erotic love. Whose god is Vishnu.
