A steamship. A bright sunny day. The sound of water lapping. FATHER and AMY are sitting in deckchairs on the deck. AMY is reading and FATHER is looking out to sea. It is a bright, hot day.
FATHER: Look at that sun boiling down. And not a breeze. The sea is like glass. (Licks his finger and holds it up.) Hardly a thing! In the days of the sailing ships, we would have been stuck here in the doldrums for weeks. Thank God for modern civilization. And then this of course, as I was saying, he had such a fair skin. I mean…would you go out in that? (Pointing out.) I told him to be careful. I told them both. And a doctor. He should have known better.
AMY: I agree, father. It seems…so unnecessary.
FATHER: In fact…I was against the whole thing from the beginning. You remember that don’t you? I’m not surprised that it ended in tragedy.
AMY: I do, father.
FATHER: But you rather supported him. Supported the whole foolish venture. I couldn’t understand that. It really disappointed me at the time.
AMY: You see, father…there was something in him. He seemed…not to fear martyrdom! I felt…so very sympathetic.
FATHER: Martyrdom! Look where that got him. It is not that I don’t sympathise with the idealism of philanthropists…but one should simply not take it too far. The prominence of his family…his excellent education…such a waste. Surely there are enough missionaries. They are the scourge of the colonies. Priggish men without distinction. Well…maybe he was one of them. He certainly had their particular brand of…narrow fanaticism. I said it then and I say it again. I don’t know what she saw in him. And almost twice her age. With her looks and vivacity…she could have made a brilliant marriage. Ah, but let me not dwell on that.
AMY: (Tearful.) Father…I must ask you not to speak of him in this way. I really don’t think it’s fitting. He died only…so recently…and then… I’m afraid… I cannot agree with you on this. I think…he was an exceptional…a gifted…sensitive…and giving person. (Getting more distressed.) And I think May was very fortunate to be his wife…even…for such a short time.
FATHER: Calm down my dear. Calm down. Since we started on this voyage…I’ve noticed that you are easily excited. It’s the seasickness, wearing you out, making you susceptible to these…uncharacteristic outbursts. Luckily I know about these things so I don’t blame you. (Suddenly noticing something in the sea.) And what is that? Over there? (Pointing.) Can you see it? It’s over there! There!
AMY: (Softly and tearfully.) No, father.
FATHER: Maybe it’s a porpoise. Or a dolphin. There it is again! (Watches.) Now it’s gone, I can’t see it anymore.
AMY: (Still distressed.) If only you could have heard him speaking, father, as he used to speak to me! He used to speak so freely! With such…passionate conviction! Because he knew…I was sympathetic. You made him feel…a little awkward. Even May…didn’t really understand. But I…brought out the best in him! If only you could have seen how…
FATHER: (Interrupting.) I’m sure my dear. I’m not denying he was a fine young man. One of the best families in Oxfordshire. Good breeding is the most important thing. Now why don’t you go below and lie down? You look quite pale. See if you can sleep a little. And I’ll stay up here and keep my eyes open. Who knows, I might even see it again. You know how interested I am in marine life. It really is something we don’t know enough about. (Pointedly.) Well now, run along.
AMY: Yes, father. (She closes her book. And gets up slowly. She lingers for a moment and then wanders listlessly towards the exit.)
FATHER: (Seeing something again. Extremely excited.) There it is! (He turns around and looks at AMY who is about to leave the stage.) I think it’s a porpoise!
AMY wanders off. FATHER gazes out to sea with rapt attention. The lights slowly go down.