Act I. Scene 2

The same room a quarter of an hour later. EDWARD is alone, playing Patience. The doorbell rings, and he answers it.

 

CELIA’S VOICE

Are you alone?

[EDWARD returns with CELIA.]

 

EDWARD

Celia! Why have you come back?

I said I would telephone as soon as I could:

And I tried to get you a moment ago.

 

CELIA

If there had happened to be anyone with you

I was going to say I’d come back for my umbrella. . . .

I must say you don’t seem very pleased to see me.

Edward, I understand what has happened

But I could not understand your manner on the

telephone.

It did not seem like you. So I felt I must see you.

Tell me it’s all right, and then I’ll go.

 

EDWARD

But how can you say you understand what has

happened?

I don’t know what has happened, or what is going to

happen;

And to try to understand it, I want to be alone.

 

CELIA

I should have thought it was perfectly simple.

Lavinia has left you.

 

EDWARD

Yes, that was the situation.

I suppose it was pretty obvious to everyone.

 

CELIA

It was obvious that the aunt was a pure invention

On the spur of the moment, and not a very good one.

You should have been prepared with something better,

for Julia;

But it doesn’t really matter. They will know soon

enough.

Doesn’t that settle all our difficulties?

 

EDWARD

It has only brought to light the real difficulties.

 

CELIA

But surely, these are only temporary.

You know I accepted the situation

Because a divorce would ruin your career;

And we thought that Lavinia would never want to leave

you.

Surely you don’t hold to that silly convention

That the husband must always be the one to be

divorced?

And if she chooses to give you the grounds . . .

 

EDWARD

I see. But it is not like that at all.

Lavinia is coming back.

 

CELIA

Lavinia coming back!

Do you mean to say that she’s laid a trap for us?

 

EDWARD

No. If there is a trap, we are all in the trap,

We have set it for ourselves. But I do not know

What kind of a trap it is.

 

CELIA

Then what has happened?

[The telephone rings.]

 

EDWARD

Damn the telephone. I suppose I must answer it.

Hello . . . oh, hello! . . . No. I mean yes, Alex;

Yes, of course . . . it was marvellous.

I’ve never tasted anything like it . . .

Yes, that’s very interesting. But I just wondered

Whether it mightn’t be rather indigestible? . . .

Oh, no, Alex, don’t bring me any cheese;

I’ve got some cheese . . . No, not Norwegian;

But I don’t really want cheese . . . Slipper what? . . .

Oh, from Jugoslavia . . . prunes and alcohol?

No, really, Alex, I don’t want anything.

I’m very tired. Thanks awfully, Alex.

Good night.

 

CELIA

What on earth was that about?

 

EDWARD

That was Alex.

 

CELIA

I know it was Alex.

But what was he talking of?

 

EDWARD

I had quite forgotten.

He made his way in, a little while ago,

And insisted on cooking me something for supper;

And he said I must eat it within ten minutes.

I suppose it’s still cooking.

 

CELIA

You suppose it’s still cooking!

I thought I noticed a peculiar smell:

Of course it’s still cooking—or doing something.

I must go and investigate.

[Starts to leave the room]

 

EDWARD

For heaven’s sake, don’t bother!

[Exit CELIA.]

Suppose someone came and found you in the kitchen?

[EDWARD goes over to the table and inspects his game of Patience. He moves a card. The doorbell rings repeatedly. Re-enter CELIA, in an apron.]

 

CELIA

You’d better answer the door, Edward.

It’s the best thing to do. Don’t lose your head.

You see, I really did leave my umbrella;

And I’ll say I found you here starving and helpless

And had to do something. Anyway, I’m staying

And I’m not going to hide.

[Returns to kitchen. The bell rings again.]

 

EDWARD

[Goes to front door, and is heard to say:]

Julia!

What have you come back for?

[Enter JULIA.]

 

JULIA

I’ve had an inspiration!

[Enter CELIA with saucepan.]

 

CELIA

Edward, it’s ruined!

 

EDWARD

What a good thing.

 

CELIA

But it’s ruined the saucepan too.

 

EDWARD

And half a dozen eggs.

I wanted one for breakfast. A boiled egg.

It’s the only thing I know how to cook.

 

JULIA

Celia! I see you’ve had the same inspiration

That I had. Edward must be fed.

He’s under such a strain. We must keep his strength up.

Edward! Don’t you realise how lucky you are

To have two Good Samaritans? I never heard of that

before.

EDWARD

The man who fell among thieves was luckier than I:

He was left at an inn.

JULIA

Edward, how ungrateful!

What’s in that saucepan?

 

CELIA

Nobody knows.

 

EDWARD

It’s something that Alex came and prepared for me.

He would do it. Three Good Samaritans.

I forgot all about it.

 

JULIA

But you mustn’t touch it.

 

EDWARD

Of course I shan’t touch it.

 

JULIA

My dear, I should have warned you:

Anything that Alex makes is absolutely deadly.

I could tell such tales of his poisoning people.

Now, my dear, you give me that apron

And we’ll see what I can do. You stay and talk to

Edward.

[Exit JULIA.]

 

CELIA

But what has happened, Edward? What has happened?

 

EDWARD

Lavinia is coming back, I think.

 

CELIA

You think! don’t you know?

 

EDWARD

No, but I believe it. That man who was here—

 

CELIA

Yes, who was that man? I was rather afraid of him;

He has some sort of power.

 

EDWARD

I don’t know who he is.

But I had some talk with him, when the rest of you

had left,

And he said he would bring Lavinia back, tomorrow.

 

CELIA

But why should that man want to bring her back—

Unless he is the Devil! I could believe he was.

 

EDWARD

Because I asked him to.

 

CELIA

Because you asked him to!

Then he must be the Devil! He must have bewitched

you.

How did he persuade you to want her back?

[A popping noise is heard from the kitchen.]

 

EDWARD

What the devil’s that?

[Re-enter JULIA, in apron, with a tray and three glasses.]

 

JULIA

I’ve had an inspiration!

There’s nothing in the place fit to eat:

I’ve looked high and low. But I found some champagne—

Only a half bottle, to be sure,

And of course it isn’t chilled. But it’s so refreshing;

And I thought, we are all in need of a stimulant

After this disaster. Now I’ll propose a health.

Can you guess whose health I’m going to propose?

 

EDWARD

No, I can’t. But I won’t drink to Alex’s.

 

JULIA

Oh, it isn’t Alex’s. Come, I give you

Lavinia’s aunt! You might have guessed it.

 

EDWARD and CELIA

Lavinia’s aunt.

 

JULIA

Now, the next question

Is, what’s to be done. That’s very simple.

It’s too late, or too early, to go to a restaurant.

You must both come home with me.

 

EDWARD

No, I’m sorry, Julia.

I’m too tired to go out, and I’m not at all hungry.

I shall have a few biscuits.

 

JULIA

But you, Celia?

You must come and have a light supper with me—

Something very light.

 

CELIA

Thank you, Julia.

I think I will, if I may follow you

In about ten minutes? Before I go, there’s something

I want to say to Edward.

 

JULIA

About Lavinia?

Well, come on quickly. And take a taxi.

You know, you’re looking absolutely famished.

Good night, Edward.

[Exit JULIA.]

 

CELIA

Well, how did he persuade you?

 

EDWARD

How did he persuade me? Did he persuade me?

I have a very clear impression

That he tried to persuade me it was all for the best

That Lavinia had gone; that I ought to be thankful.

He talked as if he thought he knew all about it;

And yet, the effect of all his argument

Was to make me see that I wanted her back.

 

CELIA

That’s the Devil’s method! So you want Lavinia back!

Lavinia! So the one thing you care about

Is to avoid a break—anything unpleasant!

No, it can’t be that. I won’t think it’s that.

I think it is just a moment of surrender

To fatigue. And panic. You can’t face the trouble.

 

EDWARD

No, it is not that. It is not only that.

 

CELIA

It cannot be simply a question of vanity:

That you think the world will laugh at you

Because your wife has left you for another man?

I shall soon put that right, Edward,

When you are free.

 

EDWARD

No, it is not that.

And all these reasons were suggested to me

By the man I call Riley—though his name is not Riley;

It was just a name in a song he sang . . .

 

CELIA

He sang you a song about a man named Riley!

Really, Edward, I think you are mad—

I mean, you’re on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Edward, if I go away now

Will you promise me to see a very great doctor

Whom I have heard of—and his name is Reilly!

 

EDWARD

It would need someone greater than the greatest doctor

To cure this illness.

 

CELIA

Edward, if I go now,

Will you assure me that everything is right,

That you do not mean to have Lavinia back

And that you do mean to gain your freedom,

And that everything is all right between us?

That’s all that matters. Truly, Edward,

If that is right, everything else will be,

I promise you.

 

EDWARD

No, Celia.

It has been very wonderful, and I’m very grateful,

And I think you are a very rare person.

But it was too late. And I should have known

That it wasn’t fair to you.

 

CELIA

It wasn’t fair to me!

You can stand there and talk about being fair to me!

 

EDWARD

But for Lavinia leaving, this would never have arisen.

What future had you ever thought there could be?

 

CELIA

What had I thought that the future could be?

I abandoned the future before we began,

And after that I lived in a present

Where time was meaningless, a private world of ours,

Where the word ‘happiness’ had a different meaning

Or so it seemed.

 

EDWARD

I have heard of that experience.

 

CELIA

A dream. I was happy in it till today,

And then, when Julia asked about Lavinia

And it came to me that Lavinia had left you

And that you would be free—then I suddenly discovered

That the dream was not enough; that I wanted something

more

And I waited, and wanted to run to tell you.

Perhaps the dream was better. It seemed the real reality,

And if this is reality, it is very like a dream.

Perhaps it was I who betrayed my own dream

All the while; and to find I wanted

This world as well as that . . . well, it’s humiliating.

 

EDWARD

There is no reason why you should feel humiliated . . .

 

CELIA

Oh, don’t think that you can humiliate me!

Humiliation—it’s something I’ve done to myself.

I am not sure even that you seem real enough

To humiliate me. I suppose that most women

Would feel degraded to find that a man

With whom they thought they had shared something

wonderful

Had taken them only as a passing diversion.

Oh, I dare say that you deceived yourself;

But that’s what it was, no doubt.

 

EDWARD

I didn’t take you as a passing diversion!

If you want to speak of passing diversions

How did you take Peter?

 

CELIA

Peter? Peter who?

 

EDWARD

Peter Quilpe, who was here this evening. He was in a

dream

And now he is simply unhappy and bewildered.

 

CELIA

I simply don’t know what you are talking about.

Edward, this is really too crude a subterfuge

To justify yourself. There was never anything

Between me and Peter.

 

EDWARD

Wasn’t there? He thought so.

He came back this evening to talk to me about it.

 

CELIA

But this is ridiculous! I never gave Peter

Any reason to suppose I cared for him.

I thought he had talent; I saw that he was lonely;

I thought that I could help him. I took him to concerts.

But then, as he came to make more acquaintances,

I found him less interesting, and rather conceited.

But why should we talk about Peter? All that matters

Is, that you think you want Lavinia.

And if that is the sort of person you are—

Well, you had better have her.

 

EDWARD

It’s not like that.

It is not that I am in love with Lavinia.

I don’t think I was ever really in love with her.

If I have ever been in love—and I think that I have—

I have never been in love with anyone but you,

And perhaps I still am. But this can’t go on.

It never could have been . . . a permanent thing:

You should have a man . . . nearer your own age.

 

CELIA

I don’t think I care for advice from you, Edward.

You are not entitled to take any interest

Now, in my future. I only hope you’re competent

To manage your own. But if you are not in love

And never have been in love with Lavinia,

What is it that you want?

 

EDWARD

I am not sure.

The one thing of which I am relatively certain

Is, that only since this morning

I have met myself as a middle-aged man

Beginning to know what it is to feel old.

That is the worst moment, when you feel that you have

lost

The desire for all that was most desirable,

And before you are contented with what you can desire;

Before you know what is left to be desired;

And you go on wishing that you could desire

What desire has left behind. But you cannot understand.

How could you understand what it is to feel old?

 

CELIA

But I want to understand you. I could understand.

And, Edward, please believe that whatever happens

I shall not loathe you. I shall only feel sorry for you.

It’s only myself I am in danger of hating.

But what will your life be? I cannot bear to think of it.

Oh, Edward! Can you be happy with Lavinia?

 

EDWARD

No—not happy: or, if there is any happiness,

Only the happiness of knowing

That the misery does not feed on the ruin of loveliness,

That the tedium is not the residue of ecstasy.

I see that my life was determined long ago

And that the struggle to escape from it

Is only a make-believe, a pretence

That what is, is not, or could be changed.

The self that can say ‘I want this—or want that’—

The self that wills—he is a feeble creature;

He has to come to terms in the end

With the obstinate, the tougher self; who does not speak,

Who never talks, who cannot argue;

And who in some men may be the guardian—

But in men like me, the dull, the implacable,

The indomitable spirit of mediocrity.

The willing self can contrive the disaster

Of this unwilling partnership—but can only flourish

In submission to the rule of the stronger partner.

 

CELIA

I am not sure, Edward, that I understand you;

And yet I understand as I never did before.

I think—I believe—you are being yourself

As you never were before, with me.

Twice you have changed since I have been looking at

you.

I looked at your face: and I thought that I knew

And loved every contour; and as I looked

It withered, as if I had unwrapped a mummy.

I listened to your voice, that had always thrilled me,

And it became another voice—no, not a voice:

What I heard was only the noise of an insect,

Dry, endless, meaningless, inhuman—

You might have made it by scraping your legs together—

Or however grasshoppers do it. I looked,

And listened for your heart, your blood;

And saw only a beetle the size of a man

With nothing more inside it than what comes out

When you tread on a beetle.

 

EDWARD

Perhaps that is what I am.

Tread on me, if you like.

 

CELIA

No, I won’t tread on you.

That is not what you are. It is only what was left

Of what I had thought you were. I see another person,

I see you as a person whom I never saw before.

The man I saw before, he was only a projection—

I see that now—of something that I wanted—

No, not wanted—something I aspired to—

Something that I desperately wanted to exist.

It must happen somewhere—but what, and where is it?

And I ask you to forgive me.

 

EDWARD

You . . . ask me to forgive you!

 

CELIA

Yes, for two things. First . . .

[The telephone rings.]

 

EDWARD

Damn the telephone.

I suppose I had better answer it.

 

CELIA

Yes, better answer it.

 

EDWARD

Hello! . . . Oh, Julia: what is it now?

Your spectacles again . . . where did you leave them?

Or have we . . . have I got to hunt all over?

Have you looked in your bag? . . . Well, don’t snap

my head off . . .

You’re sure, in the kitchen? Beside the champagne

bottle?

You’re quite sure? . . . Very well, hold on if you like;

We . . . I’ll look for them.

 

CELIA

Yes, you look for them.

I shall never go into your kitchen again.

[Exit EDWARD. He returns with the spectacles and a bottle.]

 

EDWARD

She was right for once.

 

CELIA

She is always right.

But why bring an empty champagne bottle?

 

EDWARD

It isn’t empty. It may be a little flat—

But why did she say that it was a half bottle?

It’s one of my best: and I have no half bottles.

Well, I hoped that you would drink a final glass with

me.

 

CELIA

What should we drink to?

 

EDWARD

Whom shall we drink to?

 

CELIA

To the Guardians.

 

EDWARD

To the Guardians?

 

CELIA

To the Guardians. It was you who spoke of guardians.

[They drink.]

It may be that even Julia is a guardian.

Perhaps she is my guardian. Give me the spectacles.

Good night, Edward.

 

EDWARD

Good night . . . Celia.

[Exit CELIA.] Oh!

[He snatches up the receiver.]

Hello, Julia! are you there? . . .

Well, I’m awfully sorry to have kept you waiting;

But we . . . I had to hunt for them . . . No, I found

them.

. . . Yes, she’s bringing them now . . . Good night.

 

CURTAIN