Complete Poems and Plays

by T. S. Eliot

  But there are one or two who don’t like being beaten,

  And that spoils any sport, in my opinion.

  MONICA. Thank you, Mrs. Piggott. But I’m very fond of walking

  And I’m told there are very good walks in this neighbourhood.

  MRS. PIGGOTT. There are indeed. I can lend you a map.

  There are lovely walks, on the shore or in the hills,

  Quite away from the motor roads. You must learn the best walks.

  I won’t apologise for the lack of excitement:

  After all, peace and quiet is our raison d’être.

  Now I’ll leave you to enjoy it.

  [Exit]

  MONICA. I hope she won’t remember anything else.

  LORD CLAVERTON. She’ll come back to tell us more about the peace and quiet.

  MONICA. I don’t believe she’ll be bothering us again:

  I could see from her expression when she left

  That she thought she’d done her duty by us for to-day.

  I’m going to prowl about the grounds. Don’t look so alarmed!

  If you spy any guest who seems to be stalking you

  Put your newspaper over your face

  And pretend you’re pretending to be asleep.

  If they think you are asleep they’ll do something to wake you,

  But if they see you’re shamming they’ll have to take the hint.

  [Exit]

  A moment later. LORD CLAVERTON spreads his newspaper over his face. Enter MRS. CARGHILL. She sits in a deckchair nearby, composes herself and takes out her knitting.

  MRS. CARGHILL [after a pause]. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I always sit here.

  It’s the sunniest and most sheltered corner,

  And none of the other guests have discovered it.

  It was clever of you to find it so quickly.

  What made you choose it?

  LORD CLAVERTON [throwing down newspaper]. My daughter chose it.

  She noticed that it seemed to offer the advantages

  Which you have just mentioned. I am glad you can confirm them.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Oh, so that is your daughter — that very charming girl?

  And obviously devoted to her father.

  I was watching you both in the dining-room last night.

  You are the great Lord Claverton, aren’t you?

  Somebody said you were coming here —

  It’s been the topic of conversation.

  But I couldn’t believe that it would really happen!

  And now I’m sitting here talking to you.

  Dear me, it’s astonishing, after all these years;

  And you don’t even recognise me! I’d know you anywhere.

  But then, we’ve all seen your portrait in the papers

  So often. And everybody knows you. But still,

  I wish you could have paid me that compliment, Richard.

  LORD CLAVERTON. What!

  MRS. CARGHILL. Don’t you know me yet?

  LORD CLAVERTON. I’m afraid not.

  MRS. CARGHILL. There were the three of us — Effie‚ Maudie and me.

  That day we spent on the river — I’ve never forgotten it —

  The turning point of all my life!

  Now whatever were the names of those friends of yours

  And which one was it invited us to lunch?

  I declare, I’ve utterly forgotten their names.

  And you gave us lunch — I’ve forgotten what hotel —

  But such a good lunch — and we all went in a punt

  On the river — and we had a tea basket

  With some lovely little cakes — I’ve forgotten what you called them,

  And you made me try to punt, and I got soaking wet

  And nearly dropped the punt pole, and you all laughed at me.

  Don’t you remember?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Pray continue.

  The more you remind me of, the better I’ll remember.

  MRS. CARGHILL. And the three of us talked you over afterwards —

  Effie and Maud and I. What a time ago it seems!

  It’s surprising I remember it all so clearly.

  You attracted me, you know, at the very first meeting —

  I can’t think why, but it’s the way things happen.

  I said ‘there’s a man I could follow round the world!’

  But Effie it was — you know, Effie was very shrewd —

  Effie it was said ‘you’d be throwing yourself away.

  Mark my words’ Effie said, ‘if you chose to follow that man

  He’d give you the slip: he’s not to be trusted.

  That man is hollow’. That’s what she said.

  Or did she say ‘yellow’? I’m not quite sure.

  You do remember now, don’t you, Richard?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Not the conversation you have just repeated.

  That is new to me. But I do remember you.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Time has wrought sad changes in me, Richard.

  I was very lovely once. So you thought,

  And others thought so too. But as you remember,

  Please, Richard, just repeat my name — just once:

  The name by which you knew me. It would give me such a thrill

  To hear you speak my name once more.

  LORD CLAVERTON. Your name was Maisie Batterson.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Oh, Richard, you’re only saying that to tease me.

  You know I meant my stage name. The name by which you knew me.

  LORD CLAVERTON. Well, then, Maisie Montjoy.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Yes. Maisie Montjoy.

  I was Maisie Montjoy once. And you didn’t recognise me.

  LORD CLAVERTON. You’ve changed your name, no doubt. And I’ve changed mine.

  Your name now and here …

  MRS. CARGHILL. Is Mrs. John Carghill.

  LORD CLAVERTON. You married, I suppose, many years ago?

  MRS. CARGHILL. Many years ago, the first time. That didn’t last long.

  People sometimes say: ‘Make one mistake in love,

  You’re more than likely to make another’.

  How true that is! Algy was a weakling,

  But simple he was — not sly and slippery.

  Then I married Mr. Carghill. Twenty years older

  Than me, he was. Just what I needed.

  LORD CLAVERTON. Is he still living?

  MRS. CARGHILL. He had a weak heart.

  And he worked too hard. Have you never heard

  Of Carghill Equipments? They make office furniture.

  LORD CLAVERTON. I’ve never had to deal with questions of equipment.

  I trust that the business was very successful …

  I mean, that he left you comfortably provided for?

  MRS. CARGHILL. Well, Richard, my doctor could hardly have sent me here

  If I wasn’t well off. Yes, I’m provided for.

  But isn’t it strange that you and I

  Should meet here at last? Here, of all places!

  LORD CLAVERTON. Why not, of all places? What I don’t understand

  Is why you should take the first opportunity,

  Finding me here, to revive old memories

  Which I should have thought we both preferred to leave buried.

  MRS. CARGHILL. There you’re wrong, Richard. Effie always said —

  What a clever girl she was! — ‘he doesn’t understand women.

  Any woman who trusted him would soon find that out’.

  A man may prefer to forget all the women

  He has loved. But a woman doesn’t want to forget

  A single one of her admirers. Why, even a faithless lover

  Is still, in her memory, a kind of testimonial.

  Men live by forgetting — women live on memories.

  Besides a woman has nothing to be ashamed of:

  A man is always trying to forget

  His own shabby behaviour.

  LORD CLAVERTON. But we’d settled ou
r account.

  What harm was done? I learned my lesson

  And you learned yours, if you needed the lesson.

  MRS. CARGHILL. You refuse to believe that I was really in love with you!

  Well, it’s natural that you shouldn’t want to believe it.

  But you think, or try to think, that if I’d really suffered

  I shouldn’t want to let you know who I am,

  I shouldn’t want to come and talk about the past.

  You’re wrong, you know. It’s both pain and pleasure

  To talk about the past — about you and me.

  These memories are painful — but I cherish them.

  LORD CLAVERTON. If you had really been broken-hearted

  I can’t see how you could have acted as you did.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Who can say whether a heart’s been broken

  Once it’s been repaired? But I know what you mean.

  You mean that I would never have started an action

  For breach of promise, if I’d really cared for you.

  What sentimental nonsense! One starts an action

  Simply because one must do something.

  Well, perhaps I shouldn’t have settled out of court.

  My lawyer said: ‘I advise you to accept’,

  ‘Because Mr. Ferry will be standing for Parliament:

  His father has political ambitions for him.

  If he’s lost a breach of promise suit

  Some people won’t want to appear as his supporters.’

  He said: ‘What his lawyers are offering in settlement

  Is twice as much as I think you’d be awarded.’

  Effie was against it — she wanted you exposed.

  But I gave way. I didn’t want to ruin you.

  If I’d carried on, it might have ended your career,

  And then you wouldn’t have become Lord Claverton.

  So perhaps I laid the foundation of your fortunes!

  LORD CLAVERTON. And perhaps at the same time of your own?

  I seem to remember, it was only a year or so

  Before your name appeared in very large letters

  In Shaftesbury Avenue.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Yes, I had my art.

  Don’t you remember what a hit I made

  With a number called It’s Not Too Late For You To Love Me?

  I couldn’t have put the feeling into it I did

  But for what I’d gone through. Did you hear me sing it?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Yes, I heard you sing it.

  MRS. CARGHILL. And what did you feel?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Nothing at all. I remember my surprise

  At finding that I felt nothing at all.

  I thought, perhaps, what a lucky escape

  It had been, for both of us.

  MRS. CARGHILL. That ‘both of us’

  Was an afterthought, Richard. A lucky escape

  You thought, for you. You felt no embarrassment?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Why should I feel embarrassment? My conscience was clear.

  A brief infatuation, ended in the only way possible

  To our mutual satisfaction.

  MRS. CARGHILL. Your conscience was clear.

  I’ve very seldom heard people mention their consciences

  Except to observe that their consciences were clear.

  You got out of a tangle for a large cash payment

  And no publicity. So your conscience was clear.

  At bottom, I believe you’re still the same silly Richard

  You always were. You wanted to pose

  As a man of the world. And now you’re posing

  As what? I presume, as an elder statesman;

  And the difference between being an elder statesman

  And posing successfully as an elder statesman

  Is practically negligible. And you look the part.

  Whatever part you’ve played, I must say you’ve always looked it.

  LORD CLAVERTON. I’ve no longer any part to play, Maisie.

  MRS. CARGHILL. There’ll always be some sort of part for you

  Right to the end. You’ll still be playing a part

  In your obituary, whoever writes it.

  LORD CLAVERTON. Considering how long ago it was when you knew me

  And considering the brevity of our acquaintance,

  You’re surprisingly confident, I must say,

  About your understanding of my character.

  MRS. CARGHILL. I’ve followed your progress year by year, Richard.

  And although it’s true that our acquaintance was brief,

  Our relations were intense enough, I think,

  To have given me one or two insights into you.

  No, Richard, don’t imagine that I’m still in love with you;

  And you needn’t think I idolise your memory.

  It’s simply that I feel that we belong together …

  Now, don’t get alarmed. But you touched my soul —

  Pawed it, perhaps, and the touch still lingers.

  And I’ve touched yours.

  It’s frightening to think that we’re still together

  And more frightening to think that we may always be together.

  There’s a phrase I seem to remember reading somewhere:

  Where their fires are not quenched. Do you know what I do?

  I read your letters every night.

  LORD CLAVERTON. My letters!

  MRS. CARGHILL. Have you forgotten that you wrote me letters?

  Oh, not very many. Only a few worth keeping.

  Only a few. But very beautiful!

  It was Effie said, when the break came,

  ‘They’ll be worth a fortune to you, Maisie.’

  They would have figured at the trial, I suppose,

  If there had been a trial. Don’t you remember them?

  LORD CLAVERTON. Vaguely. Were they very passionate?

  MRS. CARGHILL. They were very loving. Would you like to read them?

  I’m afraid I can’t show you the originals;

  They’re in my lawyer’s safe. But I have photostats

  Which are quite as good, I’m told. And I like to read them

  In your own handwriting.

  LORD CLAVERTON. And have you shown these letters

  To many people?

  MRS. CARGHILL. Only a few friends.

  Effie said: ‘If he becomes a famous man

  And you should be in want, you could have these letters auctioned.’

  Yes, I’ll bring the photostats tomorrow morning,

  And read them to you.

  — Oh, there’s Mrs. Piggott!

  She’s bearing down on us. Isn’t she frightful!

  She never stops talking. Can you bear it?

  If I go at once, perhaps she’ll take the hint

  And leave us alone tomorrow.

  Good morning, Mrs. Piggott!

  Isn’t it a glorious morning!

  [Enter MRS. PIGGOTT]

  MRS. PIGGOTT. Good morning, Mrs. Carghill!

  MRS. CARGHILL. Dear Mrs. Piggott!

  It seems to me that you never sit still:

  You simply sacrifice yourself for us.

  MRS. PIGGOTT. It’s the breath of life to me, Mrs. Carghill,

  Attending to my guests. I like to feel they need me!

  MRS. CARGHILL. You do look after us well, Mrs. Piggott:

  You’re so considerate — and so understanding.

  MRS. PIGGOTT. But I ought to introduce you. You’ve been talking to Lord Claverton,

  The famous Lord Claverton. This is Mrs. Carghill.

  Two of our very nicest guests!

  I just came to see that Lord Claverton was comfortable:

  We can’t allow him to tire himself with talking.

  What he needs is rest! You’re not going, Mrs. Carghill?

  MRS. CARGHILL. Oh, I knew that Lord Claverton had come for a rest cure,