by John Osborne
JILL: Wilfred’s got the umbrella, haven’t you, Wilfred?
JACK: Especially. Cost me two quid. It’s pouring! What about my jacket? Mark pressed it for me particularly.
JILL: It’ll be all right.
JACK: I can’t do these things my self… all right!
(He snorts at the rain and churlishly lets himself be escorted out of the car under the cover of WILFRED’s umbrella. JILL follows him, uncovered in the rain. In the entrance to the club, JACK shakes himself like a frenzied dog)
JILL: There! Wasn’t much. All right?
JACK: (Glaring.) What do you think?
(JILL bites her lip slightly and turns to WILFRED)
JILL: Put the car in the corner garage, will you, Wilfred? I’ll drive us home.
WILFRED: Very good, madam.
JACK: Are we going to stay out here all night? I’m bloody freezing.
JILL: You and I have got an early start in the morning.
WILFRED: Yes, madam.
JACK: Oh, do come on!
JILL: Coming, darling.
WILFRED: Good night, madam.
JILL: Good night, Wilfred. Have a nice evening.
WILFRED: Thank you. Very kind of you. Good night, sir.
JACK: Oh!!
(He blunders bearishly through the glass doors, assisted by WILFRED. JILL follows.)
Scene 17
Interior. Club. Night.
Vast spiral staircase. Like the Reform or Travellers’ etc. JILL nods genially to the CLUB PORTER in his glass fortress, who responds with nice respect. JACK is still brushing himself down.
JACK: My shirt looks a right old mess.
JILL: Don’t fret. Honestly, darling –
JACK: Would you show me to the Men’s – if you’ve got one in this place.
JILL: Certainly. (To the PORTER.) Would you show my guest to the Gentlemen’s cloakroom? (PORTER nods and leads JACK up the first bank of stairs to the right.)
JACK: I can’t possibly go in like this.
JILL: Take your time, darling. I’ll have a drink ready for you.
JACK: Oh – aren’t you going to wait for me, then?
JILL: I’ll be in the bar. You know how long you take. The porter will show you.
JACK: Oh, all right then.
(He disappears with the PORTER)
Scene 18
Interior. Club. Night.
JILL proceeds on her way up the great staircase. She nods to one or two other lady members. All over the walls are portraits of women in
Judges’ wigs, academic gowns and so on. Upstairs she settles into a huge leather armchair. A club servant (MILLS) approaches.
MILLS: Good evening, madam.
JILL: Evening, Mills.
MILLS: Usual?
JILL: Please, Mills. For two. Ah!
(Her face, which has been slightly strained, lightens as a fellow member approaches her)
Scene 19
Interior. Club. Night.
JACK enters the room, uneasy in the unfamiliar surroundings and still slightly petulant. The other member drifts off
JILL: Over here, darling. Drink’s all ready.
JACK: (Sits.) Oh, there you are.
JILL: Your favourite. All right now?
JACK: Just about.
JILL: That’s good then. Cheers.
JACK: Cheers. Sorry to keep you waiting.
JILL: Couldn’t matter less. We’ve all evening.
JACK: Yes. You seemed to be enjoying yourself with your friend. Who’s she then?
JILL: Just another member. Nice, lively girl. Very bright.
JACK: I’m sure. Business, I suppose. Talk, talk, talk…
JILL: We don’t discuss business here.
JACK: Oh, what do you discuss then?
JILL: We come for, oh, the usual, companionship, conviviality. To enjoy ourselves. Which is what we’re going to do tonight.
JACK: Yes…
JILL: I’ve ordered a smashing dinner. Your favourite asparagus and – oh, you’ll see.
(Pause)
Drink OK.?
JACK: Fine.
JILL: I think they make the best in London.
JACK: Yes?
JILL: Yes… What do you think?
JACK: Wouldn’t know.
JILL: Well, cheers, my darling.
JACK: What?
JILL: To us.
JACK: Oh, yes.
(He raises his glass. Pause)
JILL: Comfortable in that chair?
JACK: My shirt’s still damp.
JILL: I’m sorry.
JACK: Oh, does it show?
JILL: No. Not at all.
JACK: Where?
JILL: Not anywhere. Really.
(Pause.)
JACK: Have I done anything wrong?
JILL: Wrong? Why?
JACK: Oh, I don’t know. A bit –
JILL: What?
JACK: Oh, nothing. I’ll only put my foot in it.
JILL: A bit what am I?
JACK: Oh – funny, that’s all.
JILL: In what way ‘funny’?
JACK: Oh, forget it. Maybe it’s me as usual.
JILL: You?
JACK: You are pleased to see me, aren’t you?
JILL: I’ve been looking forward to it all day. I couldn’t think of anything else.
JACK: Is everything all right?
JILL: Why shouldn’t it be?
JACK: Don’t shout at me.
JILL: I’m not
JACK: It’s just that I get these funny feelings.
JILL: We’re together, that’s all that matters.
JACK: Insecure. I know it’s a bore to someone like you.
JILL: Darling, you’re never a bore to me.
JACK: You mean I am to others.
JILL: Nobody thinks you’re a bore. Least of all me. I adore you…
JACK: Oh, well, sorry.
JILL: Darling…relax… Hungry?
JACK: Gone off it a bit. All that bloody rain. I don’t mean to moan.
JILL: You’re not moaning. Anyway, why shouldn’t you have a good old moan? Tell me. I’ve had quite a day myself.
JACK: Oh, well, of course, it’s nothing like you –
JILL: Now, come on –
JACK: Only I did want to see you so much and be at my best.
JILL: Yes?
JACK: And everything seemed to go wrong.
JILL: I know. But that’s done with.
JACK: I suppose it is.
JILL: Think how lucky we are. There – you look better already!
JACK: Then I was looking awful!
JILL: No! Have another? Mills! Two more.
(Pause.)
JACK: Not many blokes here.
JILL: Busy time of year.
(Pause)
JILL: I had rather a successful week.
JACK: Oh?
JILL: In fact, what you might call triumphant.
JACK: That’s nice for you.
JILL: Yes.
(Pause)
Shall we go down? I ordered for eight.
JACK: I haven’t had this other drink yet.
JILL: Ah, no.
JACK: I’m sorry I can’t swallow these things right down like you can.
JILL: No.
JACK: I’ll leave it if you like.
JILL: No, please take your time.
JACK: I didn’t know there was a rush on.
JILL: There’s no hurry at all. The table will wait.
(She looks at her watch. Pause)
JACK: You did say we had all evening.
JILL: We have, my darling. We have.
(She smiles at him as he sips his drink very slowly)
JACK: Do they have any olives here?
JILL: Sure. Mills!
JACK: Oh, don’t bother. I just thought I fancied some.
JILL: Then you shall. Mills!
JACK: I say, you are good.
(He touches her hand, then looks around the room curiously)
Scene 2
0
Interior. Club dining room. Night.
JILL and JACK at table. She is talking to the WAITER while JACK looks unconcernedly round the room.
JILL: Ah yes, I forgot. You’ve decanted the claret. Then we’ll have the sixty-nine now. All right, darling?
JACK: What? Oh, you know me. Don’t know one from another.
(JILL nods and the WAITER opens and pours a bottle of champagne, which she approves.)
JILL: Well, then, that’s all done.
JACK: What’s done?
JILL: Let’s talk about you.
JACK: (Interested) Oh, nothing really. I did those two weeks at Watford but I wasn’t right for the part, the director hated my guts, none of the London Press bothered to come and the weather kept the customers away to say nothing of the play. I didn’t get that modelling job for pipe tobacco which I was depending on to pay for the jacket.
JILL: Won’t you let me –
JACK: No, it’s smashing of you but you know what I feel about that. So then I had this almighty row with my father about getting a proper job as he calls it and then Leeds went and lost at home two nil…
Scene 21
Exterior. Club entrance. Night.
Rain pouring.
JACK: It’s worse if anything.
JILL: At least it’s warmer. Now you stay there in the warm. Won’t be a minute.
(She dashes into the rain and disappears down the street while JACK huddles in the warm portals of the club)
Scene 22
Exterior. Club. Night.
JILL’s car draws up. She gets out, opens an umbrella and rushes over to the club entrance and ushers the waiting JACK into the car. She whips round beside him and starts up the car.
JILL: There! That wasn’t so bad.
JACK: Depends on your point of view.
JILL: Now for a nice warming drink.
Scene 23
Interior. JILL’s sitting room. Night.
She is standing by the fireplace. He is sitting.
JILL: Another?
JACK: No thanks. I must go in a minute…
JILL: I’m sorry if I upset you.
JACK: You didn’t. I’m jolly flattered.
JILL: Please, will you, stay the night? Just as usual.
JACK: I’m sorry, darling. But I don’t feel like it tonight. And I seem to be having one of my odd spells at the moment… You see, I… I never expected you to bring up marriage…
JILL: I know. I did rather spring it…
JACK: Do you love me for myself? Why should you pay for me? My beer money, clothes? You see… Well – marriage.
JILL: I know. It was a mistake. Forget it.
JACK: I can’t. You know I love you. But –
JILL: Marriage…
JACK: And it isn’t just career and all those things. One can arrange all that if you’re intelligent. But, well, I know I’ll never get into the Big League – in anything – not like you –
JILL: Oh, come.
JACK: As for children. Well, I quite like my nieces and other people’s.
JILL: But looking after them yourself.
JACK: Well, you know what nannies are like. You’re at their mercy and it’s someone else in the house…babysitting, growing up, education, all that. And it goes on for so long. I mean small babies are all right but they do grow and who knows what. You should see Mark’s nephew. He’s gruesome and only fourteen. Fourteen years of that.
JILL: We needn’t –
JACK: No. I know how you really feel. And some time it would come up. Bound to.
JILL: I’m sorry…
JACK: So am I… I’d better go –
JILL: I’ll take you to the station.
JACK: It’s not much of a place. But it’s mine and I like it… Mark and I get on pretty well… He has his girls and I – Oh, my darling.
(They embrace passionately.)
I expect you’ve got to get up at dawn.
JILL: More or less.
JACK: At least I can lie in. I’m playing squash in the afternoon. Let me get a cab. Please.
JILL: No, you won’t.
(She touches his lips. They embrace again)
Scene 24
Exterior. Railway station. Night.
JILL and JACK dash from the car. JACK can’t find his ticket. She buys him one, while he fusses over his overnight case with the ticket collector at the barrier. She finally gets him on to the leaving train, kissing him quickly, then watching the train disappear. She slowly walks back down the platform to her car.
Scene 25
Interior. JILLs bedroom. Night.
She is changing into a very dashing dressing gown over her night clothes and MARY knocks and enters.
MARY: Hullo. Alone?
JILL: Yes. All alone.
MARY: How’d it work out?
JILL: What they call ‘all for the best’ I dare say. You?
MARY: Oh. He had to get up early and didn’t get any sleep last night – dancing the night away.
JILL: And the evening?
MARY: Nobody noticed him.
WILLIE: Nobody noticed him!
JILL: Shut up, Willie. I’ve had enough tonight.
MARY: Tell me, if it’s not impertinent: how was he in the sack?
JILL: Not much.
MARY: I know. But thought he was great?
JILL: Right.
MARY: Oh, well, back to the address book.
JILL: I can do without, thanks. All for what?
MARY: Maybe you’re right. Soldier on a bit, perhaps. ‘Night. Sweet dreams.
JILL: ‘Night.
MARY: Men…
(She goes out.)
WILLIE: Men!
(JILL picks up her brief-case and opens papers on to her desk)
JILL: Who needs ‘em.
WILLIE: Who needs ‘em!
(MARY looks in the door.)
MARY: You won’t let Willie chatter on about himself, will you? I’ve an early start!
(JILL goes to the bathroom to put cloth over WILLIEs cage.)
JILL: So have I.
WILLIE: So have I! Men! So have I!
MARY: Do you think it was because he’s an actor?
JILL: No. Not at all. He was self-involved, vain; out of touch with everything except his own deficiencies.
MARY: Yes. I suppose so.
JILL: Also –
MARY: What?
JILL: He had NO… INNER… LIFE – that’s all.
MARY: Well, you’ve shut up the bird.
JILL: It’s not difficult.
(MARY goes out. JILL, at her desk, puts on her spectacles and switches on a record. The parrot is quiet in his darkened cage)
The End.
A PLACE CALLING ITSELF ROME
INTRODUCTION
A Place Calling Itself Rome
Helen Osborne
A Place Calling Itself Rome has never been performed. Rereading it now, in the present political climate, this doesn’t seem so surprising. Like Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner, there is a threatening, prophetic whiff of mobocracy about it. You only have to be in Leicester Square on a Saturday night to know what I mean.
Coriolanus’s political and personal downfall lies in his refusal to cheapen his ideology on the hustings with empty promises to the citizens’ demands for surety on ‘Wages, prices, rehabilitation, work hours, conditions…’ His belief in the intelligence of individualism – elitism, if you like – had no place in the Old Roman/New Labour world of opportunism and calculated rhetoric.
Conversely, his sleek old friend Menenius is an unashamed hector: ‘People will save for homes, but where will they be built? But they will be built! Young marrieds, elder citizens of Rome…We expand, the demands grow daily, the claim on resources is immense. Where next, you ask? Rome is the place we make of it!’
Just listen. Close your eyes. Emperor Blair to the very life. ‘Oh, world, what slippery terms,’ says Coriolanus, undone by betrayal, violence and hatred, his ideals and life crushed and
trampled under by the system the citizens have so greedily and blindly embraced.
And yet…Coriolanus: the man who refused to trim. It’s a noble epitaph, now as then. But a dangerous one.
Shropshire, 2000
Characters
CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS
COMINIUS
general against the Volscians
TITUS LARTIUS
general against the Volscians
MENENIUS
friend to Coriolanus
SICINIUS VELUTUS
Tribune
JUNIUS BRUTUS
Tribune
YOUNG MARCIUS
son to Coriolanus
TULLUS AUFIDIUS
general of the Volscians
VIRGILIA
wife to Coriolanus
VOLUMNIA
mother to Coriolanus
VALERIA
friend to Virgilia
ROMAN PARATROOPER
RADIO SIGNALLER
MESSENGERS
POLICE OFFICERS
CITIZENS
SENATORS
MEDICAL ORDERLIES
ROMAN AND VOLSCIAN SOLDIERS
LIEUTENANTS TO AUFIDIUS
MOB
The action takes place in Rome, Corioli and Antium
ACT ONE
Scene 1
Rome. The bedroom of CAIUS MARCIUS. He lies beside his wife VIRGILIA, staring at the first light as it begins to cut more clearly across the bed. He cries out, half waking.
CAIUS MARCIUS: Corioli! Aufidius!
VIRGILIA: What?
CAIUS MARCIUS: Corioli!
VIRGILIA: Um. (She turns to lie on his neck) Sh!
CAIUS MARCIUS: What?
VIRGILIA: Dreaming.
CAIUS MARCIUS: Yes.
VIRGILIA: What time is it?
CAIUS MARCIUS: Early. Go back to sleep.
VIRGILIA: So it is. I will. You woke me with your Aufidius’ and your ‘Corioli’.
CAIUS MARCIUS: I’m sorry.
VIRGILIA: And you?
CAIUS MARCIUS: I will… Virgilia…
VIRGILIA: What is it? It’s so early! What’s about Corioli?
And Aufidius? Where are you going?
CAIUS MARCIUS: Nowhere. Sleep.
(She turns over and he kisses her)
VIRGILIA: You’re not to go to old Corioli.
