Harold Pinter Plays 3
Page 23
He drinks.
BRIGGS
They’re blank, mate, blank. The blank dead.
Silence
HIRST
Nonsense.
Pause
Pass the bottle.
BRIGGS
No.
HIRST
What?
BRIGGS
I said no.
HIRST
No pranks. No mischief. Give me the bottle.
Pause
BRIGGS
I’ve refused.
HIRST
Refusal can lead to dismissal.
BRIGGS
You can’t dismiss me.
HIRST
Why not?
BRIGGS
Because I won’t go.
HIRST
If I tell you to go, you will go. Give me the bottle.
Silence
HIRST turns to SPOONER.
HIRST
Bring me the bottle.
SPOONER goes to cabinet. BRIGGS does not move.
SPOONER picks up whisky bottle, takes it to HIRST.
HIRST pours and places bottle at his side.
BRIGGS
I’ll have one myself.
BRIGGS takes a glass to the bottle, pours and drinks.
HIRST
What impertinence. Well, it doesn’t matter. He was always a scallywag. Is it raining? It so often rains, in August, in England. Do you ever examine the gullies of the English countryside? Under the twigs, under the dead leaves, you’ll find tennis balls, blackened. Girls threw them for their dogs, or children, for each other, they rolled into the gully. They are lost there, given up for dead, centuries old.
FOSTER comes into the room.
FOSTER
It’s time for your morning walk.
Pause
I said it’s time for your morning walk.
HIRST
My morning walk? No, no, I’m afraid I don’t have the time this morning.
FOSTER
It’s time for your walk across the Heath.
HIRST
I can’t possibly. I’m too busy. I have too many things to do.
FOSTER
What’s that you’re drinking?
SPOONER
The great malt which wounds.
HIRST
(To SPOONER.) My God, you haven’t got a drink. Where’s your glass?
SPOONER
Thank you. It would be unwise to mix my drinks.
HIRST
Mix?
SPOONER
I was drinking champagne.
HIRST
Of course you were, of course. Albert, another bottle.
BRIGGS
Certainly, sir.
BRIGGS goes out.
HIRST
I can’t possibly. I have too many things to do. I have an essay to write. A critical essay. We’ll have to check the files, find out what it is I’m supposed to be appraising. At the moment it’s slipped my mind.
SPOONER
I could help you there.
HIRST
Oh?
SPOONER
On two counts. Firstly, I have the nose of a ferret. I can find anything in a file. Secondly, I have written any number of critical essays myself. Do you actually have a secretary?
FOSTER
I’m his secretary.
SPOONER
A secretarial post does less than justice to your talents. A young poet should travel. Travel and suffer. Join the navy, perhaps, and see the sea. Voyage and explore.
FOSTER
I’ve sailored. I’ve been there and back. I’m here where I’m needed.
BRIGGS enters with champagne, stops at door, listens.
SPOONER
(To HIRST.) You mentioned a photograph album. I could go through it with you. I could put names to the faces. A proper exhumation could take place. Yes, I am confident that I could be of enormous aid in that area.
FOSTER
Those faces are nameless, friend.
BRIGGS comes into room, sets down champagne bucket.
BRIGGS
And they’ll always be nameless.
HIRST
There are places in my heart … where no living soul … has … or can ever … trespass.
BRIGGS opens champagne, pours glass for SPOONER.
BRIGGS
Here you are. Fresh as a daisy. (To HIRST.) A drop for you, sir?
HIRST
No, no. I’ll stay … where I am.
BRIGGS
I’ll join Mr. Friend, if I may, sir?
HIRST
Naturally.
BRIGGS
(To FOSTER.) Where’s your glass?
FOSTER
No thanks.
HIRST
Oh come on, be sociable. Be sociable. Consort with the society to which you’re attached. To which you’re attached as if by bonds of steel. Mingle.
BRIGGS pours a glass for FOSTER.
FOSTER
It isn’t even lunchtime.
BRIGGS
The best time to drink champagne is before lunch, you cunt.
FOSTER
Don’t call me a cunt.
HIRST
We three, never forget, are the oldest of friends.
BRIGGS
That’s why I called him a cunt.
FOSTER
(To BRIGGS.) Stop talking.
HIRST lifts his glass.
HIRST
To our good fortune.
Mutters of ‘Cheers’. They all drink.
HIRST looks at the window.
HIRST
The light … out there … is gloomy … hardly daylight at all. It is falling, rapidly. Distasteful. Let us close the curtains. Put the lamps on.
BRIGGS closes the curtains, lights lamps.
HIRST
Ah. What relief.
Pause
How happy it is.
Pause
Today I shall come to a conclusion. There are certain matters … which today I shall resolve.
SPOONER
I’ll help you.
FOSTER
I was in Bali when they sent for me. I didn’t have to leave, I didn’t have to come here. But I felt I was … called … I had no alternative. I didn’t have to leave that beautiful isle. But I was intrigued. I was only a boy. But I was nondescript and anonymous. A famous writer wanted me. He wanted me to be his secretary, his chauffeur, his housekeeper, his amanuensis. How did he know of me? Who told him?
SPOONER
He made an imaginative leap. Few can do it. Few do it. He did it. And that’s why God loves him.
BRIGGS
You came on my recommendation. I’ve always liked youth because you can use it. But it has to be open and honest. If it isn’t open and honest you can’t use it. I recommended you. You were open, the whole world before you.
FOSTER
I find the work fruitful. I’m in touch with a very special intelligence. This intelligence I find nourishing. I have been nourished by it. It’s enlarged me. Therefore it’s an intelligence worth serving. I find its demands natural. Not only that They’re legal. I’m not doing anything crooked. It’s a relief. I could so easily have been bent. I have a sense of dignity in my work, a sense of honour. It never leaves me. Of service to a cause.
He refers to BRIGGS.
He is my associate. He was my proposer. I’ve learnt a great deal from him. He’s been my guide. The most unselfish person I’ve ever met. He’ll tell you. Let him speak.
BRIGGS
Who to?
FOSTER
What?
BRIGGS
Speak? Who to?
FOSTER looks at SPOONER.
FOSTER
To … him.
BRIGGS
To him? To a pisshole collector? To a shithouse operator? To a jamrag vendor? What the fuck are you talking about? Look at him. He’s a mingejuice bottler, a fucking shitcake baker. What are you talking to him for?<
br />
HIRST
Yes, yes, but he’s a good man at heart. I knew him at Oxford.
Silence
SPOONER
(To HIRST.) Let me live with you and be your secretary.
HIRST
Is there a big fly in here? I hear buzzing.
SPOONER
No.
HIRST
You say no.
SPOONER
Yes.
Pause
I ask you … to consider me for the post. If I were wearing a suit such as your own you would see me in a different light. I’m extremely good with tradespeople, hawkers, canvassers, nuns. I can be silent when desired or, when desired, convivial. I can discuss any subject of your choice – the future of the country, wild flowers, the Olympic Games. It is true I have fillen on hard times, but my imagination and intelligence are unimpaired. My will to work has not been eroded. I remain capable of undertaking the gravest and most daunting responsibilities. Temperamentally I can be what you wish. My character is, at core, a humble one. I am an honest man and, moreover, I am not too old to learn. My cooking is not to be sneezed at. I lean towards French cuisine but food without frills is not beyond my competency. I have a keen eye for dust. My kitchen would be immaculate. I am tender towards objects. I would take good care of your silver. I play chess, billiards, and the piano. I could play Chopin for you. I could read the Bible to you. I am a good companion.
Pause
My career, I admit it freely, has been chequered. I was one of the golden of my generation. Something happened. I don’t know what it was. Nevertheless I am I and have survived insult and deprivation. I am I. I offer myself not abjectly but with ancient pride. I come to you as a warrior. I shall be happy to serve you as my master. I bend my knee to your excellence. I am furnished with the qualities of piety, prudence, liberality and goodness. Decline them at your peril. It is my task as a gentleman to remain amiable in my behaviour, courageous in my undertakings, discreet and gallant in my executions, by which I mean your private life would remain your own. However, I shall be sensible to the least wrong offered you. My sword shall be ready to dissever all manifest embodiments of malign forces that conspire to your ruin. I shall regard it as incumbent upon me to preserve a clear countenance and a clean conscience. I will accept death’s challenge on your behalf. I shall meet it, for your sake, boldly, whether it be in the field or in the bedchamber. I am your Chevalier. I had rather bury myself in a tomb of honour than permit your dignity to be sullied by domestic enemy or foreign foe. I am yours to command.
Silence
HIRST is still, sitting.
FOSTER and BRIGGS are still, standing.
SPOONER
Before you reply, I would like to say one thing more. I occasionally organise poetry readings, in the upstairs room of a particular public house. They are reasonably well attended, mainly by the young. I would be happy to offer you an evening of your own. You could read your own work, to an interested and informed audience, to an audience brimming over with potential for the greatest possible enthusiasm. I can guarantee a full house, and I will be happy to arrange a straightforward fee for you or, if you prefer, a substantial share of the profits. The young, I can assure you, would flock to hear you. My committee would deem it a singular honour to act as your host. You would be introduced by an authority on your work, perhaps myself. After the reading, which I am confident will be a remarkable success, we could repair to the bar below, where the landlord – who happens to be a friend of mine – would I know be overjoyed to entertain you, with the compliments of the house. Nearby is an Indian restaurant of excellent standing, at which you would be the guest of my committee. Your face is so seldom seen, your words, known to so many, have been so seldom heard, in the absolute authority of your own rendering, that this event would qualify for that rarest of categories: the unique. I beg you to consider seriously the social implications of such an adventure. You would be there in body. It would bring you to the young, the young to you. The elderly, also, those who have almost lost hope, would on this occasion leave their homes and present themselves. You would have no trouble with the press. I would take upon myself the charge of keeping them from nuisance. Perhaps you might agree to half a dozen photographs or so, but no more. Unless of course you positively wished, on such an occasion, to speak. Unless you preferred to hold, let us say, a small press conference, after the reading, before supper, whereby you could speak through the press to the world. But that is by the by, and would in no sense be a condition. Let us content ourselves with the idea of an intimate reading, in a pleasing and conducive environment, let us consider an evening to be remembered, by all who take part in her.
Silence
HIRST
Let us change the subject.
Pause
For the last time.
Pause
What have I said?
FOSTER
You said you’re changing the subject for the last time.
HIRST
But what does that mean?
FOSTER
It means you’ll never change the subject again.
HIRST
Never?
FOSTER
Never.
HIRST
Never?
FOSTER
You said for the last time.
HIRST
But what does that mean? What does it mean?
FOSTER
It means forever. It means that the subject is changed once and for all and for the last time forever. If the subject is winter, for instance, it’ll be winter forever.
HIRST
Is the subject winter?
FOSTER
The subject is now winter. So it’ll therefore be winter forever.
BRIGGS
And for the last time.
FOSTER
Which will last forever. If the subject is winter, for example, spring will never come.
HIRST
But let me ask you – I must ask you –
FOSTER
Summer will never come.
BRIGGS
The trees –
FOSTER
Will never bud.
HIRST
I must ask you –
BRIGGS
Snow –
FOSTER
Will fall forever. Because you’ve changed the subject. For the last time.
HIRST
But have we? That’s my question. Have I? Have we changed the subject?
FOSTER
Of course. The previous subject is closed.
HIRST
What was the previous subject?
FOSTER
It’s forgotten. You’ve changed it.
HIRST
What is the present subject?
FOSTER
That there is no possibility of changing the subject since the subject has now been changed.
BRIGGS
For the last time.
FOSTER
So that nothing else will happen forever. You’ll simply be sitting here forever.
BRIGGS
But not alone.
FOSTER
No. We’ll be with you. Briggs and me.
Pause
HIRST
It’s night.
FOSTER
And will always be night.
BRIGGS
Because the subject –
FOSTER
Can never be changed.
Silence
HIRST
But I hear sounds of birds. Don’t you hear them? Sounds I never heard before. I hear them as they must have sounded then, when I was young, although I never heard them then, although they sounded about us then.
Pause
Yes. It is true. I am walking towards a lake. Someone is following me, through the trees. I lose him, easily. I see a body in the water, floating. I am excited. I look closer and see I was mistaken. There is nothing in the water. I say to myself, I saw a body, drowning. But I am mistak
en. There is nothing there.
Silence
SPOONER
No. You are in no man’s land. Which never moves, which never changes, which never grows older, but which remains forever, icy and silent.
Silence
HIRST
I’ll drink to that.
He drinks.
SLOW FADE
About the Author
Harold Pinter was born in London in 1930. He lived with Antonia Fraser from 1975 and they married in 1980. In 1995 he won the David Cohen British Literature Prize, awarded for a lifetime’s achievement in literature. In 1996 he was given the Laurence Olivier Award for a lifetime’s achievement in theatre. In 2002 he was made a Companion of Honour for services to literature. In 2005 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature and, in the same year, the Wilfred Owen Award for Poetry and the Franz Kafka Award (Prague). In 2006 he was awarded the Europe Theatre Prize and, in 2007, the highest French honour, the Légion d’honneur. He died in December 2008.
By the Same Author
plays
ASHES TO ASHES
BETRAYAL
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY
THE CARETAKER
CELEBRATION AND THE ROOM
THE COLLECTION AND THE LOVER
THE HOMECOMING
THE HOTHOUSE
LANDSCAPE AND SILENCE
MOUNTAIN LANGUAGE
MOONLIGHT
NO MAN’S LAND
OLD TIMES
ONE FOR THE ROAD
OTHER PLACES
(A Kind of Alaska, Victoria Station, Family Voices)
PARTY TIME
REMEMBRANCE OF THINGS PAST (with Di Trevis)
THE ROOM AND THE DUMB WAITER
A SLIGHT ACHE AND OTHER PLAYS
TEA PARTY AND OTHER PLAYS
PLAYS ONE
(The Birthday Party, The Room, The Dumb Waiter, A Slight Ache, The Hothouse, A Night Out, The Black and White, The Examination)
PLAYS TWO
(The Caretaker, The Dwarfs, The Collection, The Lover, Night School, Trouble in the Works, The Black and White, Request Stop, Last to Go, Special Offer)
PLAYS THREE
(The Homecoming, Tea Party, The Basement, Landscape, Silence, Night, That’s Your Trouble, That’s All, Applicant, Interview, Dialogue for Three, Tea Party (short story), Old Times, No Man’s Land)
PLAYS FOUR
(Betrayal, Monologue, One for the Road, Mountain Language, Family Voices, A Kind of Alaska, Victoria Station, Precisely, The New World Order, Party Time, Moonlight, Ashes to Ashes, Celebration, Umbrellas, God’s District, Apart from That)
screenplays
HAROLD PINTER COLLECTED SCREENPLAYS ONE