by T. S. Eliot
PETER. You’re going abroad?
CELIA. I don’t know. Perhaps.
EDWARD. You’re both going away!
[Enter LAVINIA]
LAVINIA. Who’s going away? Well, Celia. Well, Peter.
I didn’t expect to find either of you here.
PETER and CELIA. But the telegram!
LAVINIA. What telegram?
CELIA. The one you sent to Julia.
PETER. And the one you sent to Alex.
LAVINIA. I don’t know what you mean.
Edward, have you been sending telegrams?
EDWARD. Of course I haven’t sent any telegrams.
LAVINIA. This is some of Julia’s mischief.
And is she coming?
PETER. Yes, and Alex.
LAVINIA. Then I shall ask them for an explanation.
Meanwhile, I suppose we might as well sit down.
What shall we talk about?
EDWARD. Peter’s going to America.
PETER. Yes, and I would have rung you up tomorrow
And come in to say good-bye before I left.
LAVINIA. And Celia’s going too? Was that what I heard?
I congratulate you both. To Hollywood, of course?
How exciting for you, Celia! Now you’ll have a chance
At last, to realise your ambitions.
You’re going together?
PETER. We’re not going together.
Celia told us she was going away,
But I don’t know where.
LAVINIA. You don’t know where?
And do you know where you are going, yourself?
PETER. Yes, of course, I’m going to California.
LAVINIA. Well, Celia, why don’t you go to California?
Everyone says it’s a wonderful climate:
The people who go there never want to leave it.
CELIA. Lavinia, I think I understand about Peter …
LAVINIA. I have no doubt you do.
CELIA. And why he is going …
LAVINIA. I don’t doubt that either.
CELIA. And I believe he is right to go.
LAVINIA. Oh, so you advised him?
PETER. She knew nothing about it.
CELIA. But now that I may be going away — somewhere —
I should like to say good-bye — as friends.
LAVINIA. Why, Celia, but haven’t we always been friends?
I thought you were one of my dearest friends —
At least, in so far as a girl can be a friend
Of a woman so much older than herself.
CELIA. Lavinia,
Don’t put me off. I may not see you again.
What I want to say is this: I should like you to remember me
As someone who wants you and Edward to be happy.
LAVINIA. You are very kind, but very mysterious.
I’m sure that we shall manage somehow, thank you,
As we have in the past.
CELIA. Oh, not as in the past!
[The doorbell rings, and EDWARD goes to answer it]
Oh, I’m afraid that all this sounds rather silly!
But …
[EDWARD re-enters with JULIA]
JULIA. There you are, Lavinia! I’m sorry to be late.
But your telegram was a bit unexpected.
I dropped everything to come. And how is the dear aunt?
LAVINIA. So far as I know, she is very well, thank you.
JULIA. She must have made a marvellous recovery.
I said so to myself, when I got your telegram.
LAVINIA. But where, may I ask, was this telegram sent from?
JULIA. Why, from Essex, of course.
LAVINIA. And why from Essex?
JULIA. Because you’ve been in Essex.
LAVINIA. Because I’ve been in Essex!
JULIA. Lavinia! Don’t say you’ve had a lapse of memory!
Then that accounts for the aunt — and the telegram.
LAVINIA. Well, perhaps I was in Essex. I really don’t know.
JULIA. You don’t know where you were? Lavinia!
Don’t tell me you were abducted! Tell us
I’m thrilled …
[The doorbell rings. EDWARD goes to answer it. Enter ALEX]
ALEX. Has Lavinia arrived?
EDWARD. Yes.
ALEX. Welcome back, Lavinia!
When I got your telegram …
LAVINIA. Where from?
ALEX. Dedham.
LAVINIA. Dedham is in Essex. So it was from Dedham.
Edward, have you any friends in Dedham?
EDWARD. No, I have no connections in Dedham.
JULIA. Well, it’s all delightfully mysterious.
ALEX. But what is the mystery?
JULIA. Alex, don’t be inquisitive.
Lavinia has had a lapse of memory,
And so, of course, she sent us telegrams:
And now I don’t believe she really wants us.
I can see that she is quite worn out
After her anxiety about her aunt —
Who, you’ll be glad to hear, has quite recovered, Alex —
And after that long journey on the old Great Eastern,
Waiting at junctions. And I suppose she’s famished.
ALEX. Ah, in that case I know what I’ll do …
JULIA. No, Alex.
We must leave them alone, and let Lavinia rest.
Now we’ll all go back to my house. Peter, call a taxi.
[Exit PETER]
We’ll have a cocktail party at my house to-day.
CELIA. Well, I’ll go now. Good-bye, Lavinia.
Good-bye, Edward.
EDWARD. Good-bye, Celia.
CELIA. Good-bye, Lavinia.
LAVINIA. Good-bye, Celia.
[Exit CELIA]
JULIA. And now, Alex, you and I should be going.
EDWARD. Are you sure you haven’t left anything, Julia?
JULIA. Left anything? Oh, you mean my spectacles.
No, they’re here. Besides, they’re no use to me.
I’m not coming back again this evening.
LAVINIA. Stop! I want you to explain the telegram.
JULIA. Explain the telegram? What do you think, Alex?
ALEX. No, Julia, we can’t explain the telegram.
LAVINIA. I am sure that you could explain the telegram.
I don’t know why. But it seems to me that yesterday
I started some machine, that goes on working,
And I cannot stop it; no, it’s not like a machine —
Or if it’s a machine, someone else is running it.
But who? Somebody is always interfering …
I don’t feel free … and yet I started it …
JULIA. Alex, do you think we could explain anything?
ALEX. I think not, Julia. She must find out for herself:
That’s the only way.
JULIA. How right you are!
Well, my dears, I shall see you very soon.
EDWARD. When shall we see you?
JULIA. Did I say you’d see me?
Good-bye. I believe … I haven’t left anything.
[Enter PETER]
PETER. I’ve got a taxi, Julia.
JULIA. Splendid! Good-bye!
[Exeunt JULIA, ALEX and PETER]
LAVINIA. I must say, you don’t seem very pleased to see me.
EDWARD. I can’t say that I’ve had much opportunity
To seem anything. But of course I’m glad to see you.
LAVINIA. Yes, that was a silly thing to say.
Like a schoolgirl. Like Celia. I don’t know why I said it.
Well, here I am.
EDWARD. I am to ask no questions.
LAVINIA. And I know I am to give no explanations.
EDWARD. And I am to give no explanations.
LAVINIA. And I am to ask no questions. And yet … why not?
EDWARD. I don’t know why not. So what are we to talk about?
LAVINIA. There is one thing I ought to know, because of other people
And what to do about them. It’s about that party.
I suppose you won’t believe I forgot all about it!
I let you down badly. What did you do about it?
I only remembered after I had left.
EDWARD. I telephoned to everyone I knew was coming
But I couldn’t get everyone. And so a few came.
LAVINIA. Who came?
EDWARD. Just those who were here this evening …
LAVINIA. That’s odd.
EDWARD. … and one other. I don’t know who he was,
But you ought to know.
LAVINIA. Yes, I think I know.
But I’m puzzled by Julia. That woman is the devil.
She know’s by instinct when something’s going to happen.
Trust her not to miss any awkward situation!
And what did you tell them?
EDWARD. I invented an aunt
Who was ill in the country, and had sent for you.
LAVINIA. Really, Edward! You had better have told the truth:
Nothing less than the truth could deceive Julia.
But how did the aunt come to live in Essex?
EDWARD. Julia compelled me to make her live somewhere.
LAVINIA. I see. So Julia made her live in Essex;
And made the telegrams come from Essex.
Well, I shall have to tell Julia the truth.
I shall always tell the truth now.
We have wasted such a lot of time in lying.
EDWARD. I don’t quite know what you mean.
LAVINIA. Oh, Edward!
The point is, that since I’ve been away
I see that I’ve taken you much too seriously.
And now I can see how absurd you are.
EDWARD. That is a very serious conclusion
To have arrived at in … how many? … thirty-two hours.
LAVINIA. Yes, a very important discovery,
Finding that you’ve spent five years of your life
With a man who has no sense of humour;
And that the effect upon me was
That I lost all sense of humour myself.
That’s what came of always giving in to you.
EDWARD. I was unaware that you’d always given in to me.
It struck me very differently. As we’re on the subject,
I thought that it was I who had given in to you.
LAVINIA. I know what you mean by giving in to me:
You mean, leaving all the practical decisions
That you should have made yourself. I remember —
Oh, I ought to have realised what was coming —
When we were planning our honeymoon,
I couldn’t make you say where you wanted to go …
EDWARD. But I wanted you to make that decision.
LAVINIA. But how could I tell where I wanted to go
Unless you suggested some other place first?
And I remember that finally in desperation
I said: ‘I suppose you’d as soon go to Peacehaven’ —
And you said ‘I don’t mind’.
EDWARD. Of course I didn’t mind.
I meant it as a compliment.
LAVINIA. You meant it as a compliment!
And you were so considerate, people said;
And you thought you were unselfish. It was only passivity;
You only wanted to be bolstered, encouraged….
EDWARD. Encouraged? To what?
LAVINIA. To think well of yourself.
You know it was I who made you work at the Bar …
EDWARD. You nagged me because I didn’t get enough work
And said that I ought to meet more people:
But when the briefs began to come in —
And they didn’t come through any of your friends —
You suddenly found it inconvenient
That I should be always too busy or too tired
To be of use to you socially …
LAVINIA. I never complained.
EDWARD. No; and it was perfectly infuriating,
The way you didn’t complain …
LAVINIA. It was you who complained
Of seeing nobody but solicitors and clients …
EDWARD. And you were never very sympathetic.
LAVINIA. Well, but I tried to do something about it.
That was why I took so much trouble
To have those Thursdays, to give you the chance
Of talking to intellectual people …
EDWARD. You would have given me about as much opportunity
If you had hired me as your butler:
Some of your guests may have thought I was the butler.
LAVINIA. And on several occasions, when somebody was coming
Whom I particularly wanted you to meet,
You didn’t arrive until just as they were leaving.
EDWARD. Well, at least, they can’t have thought I was the butler.
LAVINIA. Everything I tried only made matters worse,
And the moment you were offered something that you wanted
You wanted something else. I shall treat you very differently
In future.
EDWARD. Thank you for the warning. But tell me,
Since this is how you see me, why did you come back?
LAVINIA. Frankly, I don’t know. I was warned of the danger,
Yet something, or somebody, compelled me to come.
And why did you want me?
EDWARD. I don’t know either.
You say you were trying to ‘encourage’ me:
Then why did you always make me feel insignificant?
I may not have known what life I wanted,
But it wasn’t the life you chose for me.
You wanted your husband to be successful,
You wanted me to supply a public background
For your kind of public life. You wished to be a hostess
For whom my career would be a support.
Well, I tried to be accommodating. But, in future,
I shall behave, I assure you, very differently.
LAVINIA. Bravo! Edward. This is surprising.
Now who could have taught you to answer back like that?
EDWARD. I have had quite enough humiliation
Lately, to bring me to the point
At which humiliation ceases to humiliate.
You get to the point at which you cease to feel
And then you speak your mind.
LAVINIA. That will be a novelty
To find that you have a mind to speak.
Anyway, I’m prepared to take you as you are.
EDWARD. You mean, you are prepared to take me
As I was, or as you think I am.
But what do you think I am?
LAVINIA. Oh, what you always were.
As for me, I’m rather a different person
Whom you must get to know.
EDWARD. This is very interesting:
But you seem to assume that you’ve done all the changing —
Though I haven’t yet found it a change for the better.
But doesn’t it occur to you that possibly
I may have changed too?
LAVINIA. Oh, Edward, when you were a little boy,
I’m sure you were always getting yourself measured
To prove how you had grown since the last holidays.
You were always intensely concerned with yourself;
And if other people grow, well, you want to grow too.
In what way have you changed?
EDWARD. The change that comes
From seeing oneself through the eyes of other people.
LAVINIA. That must have been very shattering for you.
But never mind, you’ll soon get over it
And find yourself another little part to play,
With another face, to take people in.
&
nbsp; EDWARD. One of the most infuriating things about you
Has always been your perfect assurance
That you understood me better than I understood myself.
LAVINIA. And the most infuriating thing about you
Has always been your placid assumption
That I wasn’t worth the trouble of understanding.
EDWARD. So here we are again. Back in the trap,
With only one difference, perhaps — we can fight each other,
Instead of each taking his corner of the cage.
