by W. B. Yeats
How from my heart to bring supplies
Of lustre to my fading eyes.’
How strange that a celibate scholar, well on in life, should keep the love of two such women! He met Vanessa in London at the height of his political power. She followed him to Dublin. She loved him for nine years, perhaps died of love, but Stella loved him all her life.
DR. TRENCH. I have shown that writing to several persons, and you are the first who has recognised the lines.
JOHN CORBET. I am writing an essay on Swift and Stella for my doctorate at Cambridge. I hope to prove that in Swift’s day men of intellect reached the height of their power — the greatest position they ever attained in society and the State, that everything great in Ireland and in our character, in what remains of our architecture, comes from that day; that we have kept its seal longer than England.
DR. TRENCH. A tragic life: Bolingbroke, Harley, Ormonde, all those great Ministers that were his friends, banished and broken.
JOHN CORBET. I do not think you can explain him in that way — his tragedy had deeper foundations. His ideal order was the Roman Senate, his ideal men Brutus and Cato. Such an order and such men had seemed possible once more, but the movement passed and he foresaw the ruin to come, Democracy, Rousseau, the French Revolution; that is why he hated the common run of men, — ’I hate lawyers, I hate doctors,’ he said, ‘though I love Dr. So-and-so and Judge So-and-so’ — that is why he wrote Gulliver, that is why he wore out his brain, that is why he felt saeva indignatio, that is why he sleeps under the greatest epitaph in history. You remember how it goes? It is almost finer in English than in Latin: ‘He has gone where fierce indignation can lacerate his heart no more.’ [Abraham Johnson comes in, followed by Mrs. Mallet and
Cornelius Patterson.
ABRAHAM JOHNSON. Something must be done, Dr. Trench, to drive away the influence that has destroyed our séances. I have come here week after week at considerable expense. I am from Belfast. I am by profession a minister of the Gospel, I do a great deal of work among the poor and ignorant. I produce considerable effect by singing and preaching, but I know that my effect should be much greater than it is. My hope is that I shall be able to communicate with the great Evangelist Moody. I want to ask him to stand invisible beside me when I speak or sing, and lay his hands upon my head and give me such a portion of his power that my work may be blessed as the work of Moody and Sankey was blessed.
MRS. MALLET. What Mr. Johnson says about the hostile influence is quite true. The last two séances were completely spoilt. I am thinking of starting a teashop in Folkestone. I followed Mrs. Henderson to Dublin to get my husband’s advice, but two spirits kept talking and would not let any other spirit say a word.
DR. TRENCH. Did the spirits say the same thing and go through the same drama at both séances?
MRS. MALLET. Yes — just as if they were characters in some kind of horrible play.
DR. TRENCH. That is what I was afraid of.
MRS. MALLET. My husband was drowned at sea ten years ago, but constantly speaks to me through Mrs. Henderson as if he were still alive. He advises me about everything I do, and I am utterly lost if I cannot question him.
CORNELIUS PATTERSON. I never did like the Heaven they talk about in churches; but when somebody told me that Mrs. Mallet’s husband ate and drank and went about with his favourite dog, I said to myself, ‘That is the place for Corney Patterson’. I came here to find out if it was true, and I declare to God I have not heard one word about it.
ABRAHAM JOHNSON. I ask you, Dr. Trench, as President of the
Dublin Spiritualists’ Association, to permit me to read the ritual of exorcism appointed for such occasions. After the last séance I copied it out of an old book in the library of Belfast University. I have it here.
[He takes paper out of bis pocket.
DR. TRENCH. The spirits are people like ourselves, we treat them as our guests and protect them from discourtesy and violence, and every exorcism is a curse or a threatened curse. We do not admit that there are evil spirits. Some spirits are earth-bound — they think they are still living and go over and over some action of their past lives, just as we go over and over some painful thought, except that where they are thought is reality. For instance, when a spirit which has died a violent death comes to a medium for the first time, it re-lives all the pains of death.
MRS. MALLET. When my husband came for the first time the medium gasped and struggled as if she was drowning. It was terrible to watch.
DR. TRENCH. Sometimes a spirit re-lives not the pain of death but some passionate or tragic moment of life. Swedenborg describes this and gives the reason for it. There is an incident of the kind in the Odyssey, and many in Eastern literature; the murderer repeats his murder, the robber his robbery, the lover his serenade, the soldier hears the trumpet once again. If I were a Catholic I would say that such spirits were in Purgatory. In vain do we write requiescat in pace upon the tomb, for they must suffer, and we in our turn must suffer until God gives peace. Such spirits do not often come to séances unless those séances are held in houses where those spirits lived, or where the event took place. This spirit which speaks those incomprehensible words and does not answer when spoken to is of such a nature. The more patient we are, the more quickly will it pass out of its passion and its remorse.
ABRAHAM JOHNSON. I am still convinced that the spirit which disturbed the last séance is evil. If I may not exorcise it I will certainly pray for protection.
DR. TRENCH. Mrs. Henderson’s control, Lulu, is able and experienced and can protect both medium and sitters, but it may help
Lulu if you pray that the spirit find rest.
[Abraham Johnson sits down and prays silently, moving his lips. Mrs. Henderson comes in with Miss Mackenna and others. Miss Mackenna shuts the door.
DR. TRENCH. Mrs. Henderson, may I introduce to you Mr. Corbet, a young man from Cambridge and a sceptic, who hopes that you will be able to convince him?
MRS. HENDERSON. We were all sceptics once. He must not expect too much from a first séance. He must persevere.
[She sits in the armchair, and the others begin to seat themselves. Miss Mackenna goes to John Corbet and they remain standing.]
MISS MACKENNA. I am glad that you are a sceptic.
JOHN CORBET. I thought you were a spiritualist.
MISS MACKENNA. I have seen a good many séances, and sometimes think it is all coincidence and thought-transference. [She says this in a low voice.] Then at other times I think as Dr. Trench does, and then I feel like Job — you know the quotation — the hair of my head stands up. A spirit passes before my face.
MRS. MALLET. Turn the key, Dr. Trench, we don’t want anybody blundering in here. [Dr. Trench locks door.] Come and sit here, Miss Mackenna.
MISS MACKENNA. NO, I am going to sit beside Mr. Corbet.
[Corbet and Miss Mackenna sit down.
JOHN CORBET. YOU feel like Job to-night?
MISS MACKENNA. I feel that something is going to happen, that is why I am glad that you are a sceptic.
JOHN CORBET. You feel safer?
MISS MACKENNA. Yes, safer.
MRS. HENDERSON. I am glad to meet all my dear friends again and to welcome Mr. Corbet amongst us. As he is a stranger I must explain that we do not call up spirits: we make the right conditions and they come. I do not know who is going to come; sometimes there are a great many and the guides choose between them. The guides try to send somebody for everybody but do not always succeed. If you want to speak to some dear friend who has passed over, do not be discouraged. If your friend cannot come this time, maybe he can next time. My control is a dear little girl called Lulu who died when she was five or six years old. She describes the spirits present and tells us what spirit wants to speak. Miss Mackenna, a verse of a hymn, please, the same we had last time, and will everyone join in the singing?
[They sing the following lines from Hymn 564, Dublin Church Hymnal.
‘Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour
dear, It is not night if Thou be near:
O may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant’s eyes.’
[Mrs. Henderson is leaning back in her chair asleep.
MISS MACKENNA [to John Corbet]. She always snores like that when she is going off.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]- Lulu so glad to see all her friends.
MRS. MALLET. And we are glad you have come, Lulu.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. Lulu glad to see new friend.
MISS MACKENNA [to John Corbet]. She is speaking to you.
JOHN CORBET. Thank you, Lulu.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. You mustn’t laugh at the way I talk.
JOHN CORBET. I am not laughing, Lulu.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. Nobody must laugh. Lulu does her best but can’t say big long words. Lulu sees a tall man here, lots of hair on face [Mrs. Henderson passes her hands over her cheeks and chin], not much on the top of his head [Mrs. Henderson passes her hand over the top of her head], red necktie, and such a funny sort of pin.
MRS. MALLET. Yes.... Yes....
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. Pin like a horseshoe.
MRS. MALLET. It’s my husband.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. He has a message.
MRS. MALLET. Yes.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. Lulu cannot hear. He is too far off. He has come near. Lulu can hear now. He says... he says,
‘Drive that man away!’ He is pointing to somebody in the corner, that corner over there. He says it is the bad man who spoilt everything last time. If they won’t drive him away, Lulu will scream.
MISS MACKENNA. That horrible spirit again.
ABRAHAM JOHNSON. Last time he monopolised the séance.
MRS. MALLET. He would not let anybody speak but himself.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. They have driven that bad man away. Lulu sees a young lady.
MRS. MALLET. IS not my husband here?
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice], Man with funny pin gone away. Young lady here — Lulu thinks she must be at a fancy dress party, such funny clothes, hair all in curls — all bent down on floor near that old man with glasses.
DR. TRENCH. NO, I do not recognize her.
MRS. HENDERSON [in a child’s voice]. That bad man, that bad old man in the corner, they have let him come back. Lulu is going to scream. O.... O.... [In a man’s voice.] How dare you write to her? How dare you ask if we were married? How dare you question her?
DR. TRENCH. A soul in its agony — it cannot see us or hear us.
MRS. HENDERSON [upright and rigid, only her lips moving, and still in a man’s voice]. You sit crouching there. Did you not hear what I said? How dared you question her? I found you an ignorant little girl without intellect, without moral ambition. How many times did I not stay away from great men’s houses, how many times forsake the Lord Treasurer, how many times neglect the business of the State that we might read Plutarch together!
[Abraham Johnson half rises. Dr. Trench motions him to remain seated.
DR. TRENCH. Silence!
ABRAHAM JOHNSON. But, Dr. Trench...
DR. TRENCH. Hush — we can do nothing.
MRS. HENDERSON [speaking as before]. I taught you to think in every situation of life not as Hester Vanhomrigh would think in that situation, but as Cato or Brutus would, and now you behave like some common slut with her ear against the keyhole.
JOHN CORBET [to Miss Mackenna]. It is Swift, Jonathan Swift, talking to the woman he called Vanessa. She was christened Hester Vanhomrigh.
MRS. HENDERSON [in Vanessa’s voice]. I questioned her, Jonathan, because I love. Why have you let me spend hours in your company if you did not want me to love you? [In Swift’s voice.] When I rebuilt Rome in your mind it was as though I walked its streets. [In Vanessa’s voice.] Was that all, Jonathan? Was I nothing but a painter’s canvas? [In Swift’s voice.] My God, do you think it was easy? I was a man of strong passions and I had sworn never to marry. [In Vanessa’s voice.] If you and she are not married, why should we not marry like other men and women? I loved you from the first moment when you came to my mother’s house and began to teach me. I thought it would be enough to look at you, to speak to you, to hear you speak. I followed you to Ireland five years ago and I can bear it no longer. It is not enough to look, to speak, to hear. Jonathan, Jonathan, I am a woman, the women Brutus and
Cato loved were not different. [In Swift’s voice.] I have something in my blood that no child must inherit. I have constant attacks of dizziness; I pretend they come from a surfeit of fruit when I was a child. I had them in London.... There was a great doctor there, Dr. Arbuthnot; I told him of those attacks of dizziness, I told him of worse things. It was he who explained. There is a line of Dryden’s.... [In Vanessa’s voice.] O, I know — ’Great wits are sure to madness near allied’. If you had children, Jonathan, my blood would make them healthy. I will take your hand, I will lay it upon my heart — upon the Vanhomrigh blood that has been healthy for generations. [Mrs. Henderson slowly raises her left hand.] That is the first time you have touched my body, Jonathan. [Mrs. Henderson stands up and remains rigid. In Swift’s voice.] What do I care if it be healthy? What do I care if it could make mine healthy? Am I to add another to the healthy rascaldom and knavery of the world? [In Vanessa’s voice.] Look at me, Jonathan. Your arrogant intellect separates us. Give me both your hands. I will put them upon my breast. [Mrs. Henderson raises her right hand to the level of her left and then raises both to her breast.] O, it is white — white as the gambler’s dice — white ivory dice. Think of the uncertainty. Perhaps a mad child — perhaps a rascal — perhaps a knave — perhaps not, Jonathan.
The dice of the intellect are loaded, but I am the common ivory dice.
[Her hands are stretched out as though drawing somebody towards her.] It is not my hands that draw you back. My hands are weak, they could not draw you back if you did not love as I love. You said that you have strong passions; that is true, Jonathan — no man in Ireland is so passionate. That is why you need me, that is why you need children, nobody has greater need. You are growing old. An old man without children is very solitary. Even his friends, men as old as he, turn away, they turn towards the young, their children or their children’s children. They cannot endure an old man like themselves. [Mrs. Henderson moves away from the chair, her movements gradually growing convulsive.] You are not too old for the dice, Jonathan, but a few years if you turn away will make you an old miserable childless man. [In Swift’s voice.] O God, hear the prayer of Jonathan Swift, that afflicted man, and grant that he may leave to posterity nothing but his intellect that came to him from Heaven.
[In Vanessa’s voice.] Can you face solitude with that mind, Jonathan? [Mrs. Henderson goes to the door, finds that it is closed.]
Dice, white ivory dice. [In Swift’s voice.] My God, I am left alone with my enemy. Who locked the door, who locked me in with my enemy? [Mrs. Henderson beats upon the door, sinks to the floor and then speaks as Lulu.] Bad old man! Do not let him come back. Bad old man does not know he is dead. Lulu cannot find fathers, mothers, sons that have passed over. Power almost gone. [Mrs. Mallet leads Mrs. Henderson, who seems very exhausted, back to her chair. She is still asleep. She speaks again as Lulu.] Another verse of hymn. Everybody sing. Hymn will bring good influence.
[They sing]
‘If some poor wandering child of Thine
Have spurned to-day the voice divine,
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin;
Let him no more lie down in sin.’
[During the hymn Mrs. Henderson has been murmuring
‘Stella’, but the singing has almost drowned her voice. The singers draw one another’s attention to the fact that she is speaking. The singing stops.]
DR. TRENCH. I thought she was speaking.
MRS. MALLET. I saw her lips move.
DR. TRENCH. She would be more comfo
rtable with a cushion, but we might wake her.
MRS. MALLET. Nothing can wake her out of a trance like that until she wakes up herself.
[She brings a cushion, and she and Dr. Trench put Mrs. Henderson into a more comfortable position.]
MRS. HENDERSON [in Swift’s voice], Stella.
MISS MACKENNA [to John Corbet]. Did you hear that? She said
‘Stella’.
JOHN CORBET. Vanessa has gone, Stella has taken her place.
MISS MACKENNA. Did you notice the change while we were singing?
The new influence in the room?
JOHN CORBET. I thought I did, but it must have been fancy.
MRS. MALLET. Hush!
MRS. HENDERSON [in Swift’s voice}. Have I wronged you, beloved
Stella? Are you unhappy? You have no children, you have no lover, you have no husband. A cross and ageing man for friend — nothing but that. But no, do not answer — you have answered already in that poem you wrote for my last birthday. With what scorn you speak of the common lot of women ‘with no adornment but a face —
