A room in the Hôtel de Courtrai, Brussels; 10th July, 1873.
Rimbaud is packing. He looks tired and rather sad. The door bursts open and Verlaine enters. He is drunk, which in his case means overexcitement and a certain belligerence, rather than incoherence or physical unsteadiness.
Rimbaud Where have you been?
Verlaine Out. I went, I went to the Spanish Embassy again, to see if they would change their minds. But they wouldn’t, it’s ridiculous, it’s bloody ridiculous. I’m willing to fight, I said, and die for your cause, you can’t afford to turn away volunteers. But they said they weren’t taking on any foreigners. Then, I said, you deserve to lose the bloody war, and I hope you do.
Rimbaud And were you at the Spanish embassy all morning?
Verlaine No.
Rimbaud You’re drunk.
Verlaine I have yes had a few drinks.
Silence. Verlaine notices that Rimbaud is packing.
What are you doing?
Rimbaud I’m packing.
Rimbaud I’ve told you already, I’m going back to Paris. And if you’ll kindly give me some money for the fare, I shall leave this evening.
Verlaine No, listen, listen, we’re going back to London.
Rimbaud We are not going back to London.
Verlaine Yes, look, I’ve been thinking it over this morning, it’s by far the best idea.
Rimbaud Then why did you go to the Spanish Embassy?
Verlaine I didn’t.
Silence.
Rimbaud I am going back to Paris.
Verlaine It won’t happen again, look, I’ll never walk out on you again like that, I promise.
Rimbaud No you won’t, I’m not giving you the chance. What did you expect me to do on my own in London with no money? Mm? I ran along the quayside shouting for you not to leave me and you just turned your back on me.
Verlaine What was I supposed to do, jump overboard?
Rimbaud Now you want me to forgive and forget.
Verlaine I was very hurt.
Rimbaud I can’t think why. God knows, I’ve said far worse things to you than that. Anyway you really did look a cunt.
Verlaine bridles, then controls himself.
Verlaine Don’t go. Just wait another day or two and think it over.
Verlaine Or else, what about this, I had another idea this morning. I thought I might go to Paris.
Rimbaud What?
Verlaine I thought I might go to Paris and try to find Mathilde.
Rimbaud (after considering this) Well, all right, I don’t mind travelling with you.
Verlaine No, no, you would stay here in Brussels.
Rimbaud Are you mad?
Verlaine No, don’t you see, it would be absolutely fatal if you came back with me. She’d never take me back.
Rimbaud I doubt she will anyway.
Verlaine Well then, I’ll come back to Brussels, and we can go back to London.
Rimbaud You’re out of your mind.
Verlaine Do you realize what day it is tomorrow?
Rimbaud Friday.
Verlaine It’s my anniversary, it’s our third anniversary. And I haven’t seen her, my wife, for almost a year. A year ago, here in Brussels, we made love, and I haven’t seen her since. And I haven’t seen my son for more than a year. She won’t answer my letters. Do you know that I wrote to her last week, and told her if she didn’t come to Brussels within three days, I’d commit suicide? And she didn’t even answer.
Rimbaud Ah, but then you didn’t commit suicide.
Verlaine I suppose you think that’s funny.
Rimbaud No, it’s pitiful. How many people did you write and tell you were going to commit suicide? I’m surprised you didn’t send out invitations.
Verlaine How can you be so callous?
Rimbaud Callous? You abandon me in London and then summon me to Brussels and expect me to hang about while you decide whether you’re going to go back to your wife, join the army, or shoot yourself. Then, when you fail to achieve any of these aims, as you undoubtedly will, you want me to go back to London again.
I’m not going to. It’s all over. I’m leaving you.
Verlaine You can’t. You can’t. (Paces up and down for a moment.) Where’s mother?
Rimbaud Next door, I suppose, in her room. I asked her to let me have some money, but she wouldn’t give it to me until you came back. I’ll go and ask her again.
Verlaine No, no, wait a minute. Look, I’ll give you the money. I just want to talk to you a minute. (He paces up and down, smiles nervously at Rimbaud.) Hot, isn’t it?
I think we can start again. I don’t think it would be too difficult to go back to the beginning. I know it’s my fault, all the trouble we’ve had recently, but it’s only because of Mathilde, because I still loved Mathilde. It’s finished with her now, I know I shall never see her again. Look, it’s summer. Don’t you remember last summer, when we set out, how wonderful it was? I remember evenings … There’s no need to go back to London if you don’t want to. We could go south. Late summer on the Mediterranean, we could live more cheaply there, we wouldn’t need to work, we could dedicate ourselves to warmth. Or Africa, we could go to North Africa, I know you’ve always wanted to go to Africa. Just for a month and then make up your mind.
Look at the sun.
Long silence.
Rimbaud No.
Verlaine Why not?
Rimbaud (gently) I can’t. It’s no good. It’s too late.
Verlaine No, it’s not. I promise you it’s not. You know if you leave me, you’ll kill me. I can’t bear to be alone. I don’t exist without someone else. I don’t care if you stay with me out of pity, as long as you stay.
Rimbaud I can’t.
Verlaine Why not? What more can I say to make you stay? Don’t you care? Have you no idea of what this means to me?
Rimbaud Oh, for God’s sake, stop whining.
Silence. Verlaine goes over to look out of the window. He mops his brow with a handkerchief.
Verlaine It’s very hot.
Rimbaud I should take your coat off.
Verlaine I will. (He slips his coat off, walks over to the door, and hangs it up.) I did some shopping this morning. (He takes something out of his pocket, and turns towards Rimbaud.) I bought a gun. (He points a revolver at Rimbaud.)
Rimbaud What for?
Verlaine For you. And for me. For everybody.
Rimbaud I hope you bought plenty of ammunition.
Verlaine moves a chair in front of the door, and sits astride it, pointing the revolver at Rimbaud over the back of the chair. Rimbaud leans against the opposite wall, smiling.
Verlaine I’m not going to let you go, you know.
Rimbaud Well, this is rather an entertaining number. We haven’t seen this one before.
Verlaine (cries out) I’ll kill you!
Rimbaud Oh, pull yourself together.
Silence.
Verlaine Have you forgotten what you said in your letter?
Rimbaud What letter?
Verlaine The letter you wrote me last week, the day after I left you.
Rimbaud It’s of no relevance.
Verlaine Oh, yes it is. You apologized. You begged me to come back. You said it was all your fault. You said you loved me. You said it would be all right in the future. You said you were crying as you wrote. I could see your tears on the paper.
Rimbaud Well, I didn’t have any money, did I? That was before I thought of pawning your clothes.
Verlaine springs to his feet, shaking with rage. He raises the revolver and fires at Rimbaud, then, apparently stunned at the noise of the retort, fires again into the floor. Rimbaud is clutching at his left wrist, and staring at it in amazement and horror, as the blood pours down over his hand. He shies away, as Verlaine moves towards him.
Verlaine Oh, God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.
Rimbaud Look what you’ve done.
Verlaine I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.
Rimbaud Look.
Verlaine bursts into tears. He tries to give Rimbaud the revolver.
Verlaine Oh, for God’s sake, kill me, kill me, shoot me.
Rimbaud What?
Verlaine Shoot me.
Rimbaud How can I, you silly bugger, you’ve just blown a hole in my hand.
A furious banging at the door and a female voice shouting: ‘Paul, Paul’ … Verlaine drops the revolver. Rimbaud begins to laugh hysterically.
Verlaine Oh God, what have I done?
Rimbaud You missed.
Blackout.
Curtain.