If by Lord Dunsany
Part 1 out of 4
If
by Lord Dunsany [Edward John Plunkett]
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
JOHN BEAL
MARY BEAL
LIZA
ALI
BERT, BILL: two railway porters
THE MAN IN THE CORNER
MIRALDA CLEMENT
HAFIZ EL ALCOLAHN
DAOUD
ARCHIE BEAL
BAZZALOL, THOOTHOOBABA: two Nubian door-keepers
BEN HUSSEIN, Lord of the Pass
ZABNOOL, SHABEESH: two conjurers
OMAR, a singer
ZAGBOOLA, mother of Hafiz
THE SHEIK OF THE BISHAREENS
Notables, soldiers, Bishareens, dancers, etc.
IF
ACT I
SCENE 1
A small railway station near London.
Time: Ten years ago.
BERT
'Ow goes it, Bill?
BILL
Goes it? 'Ow d'yer think it goes?
BERT
I don't know, Bill. 'Ow is it?
BILL
Bloody.
BERT
Why? What's wrong?
BILL
Wrong? Nothing ain't wrong.
BERT
What's up then?
BILL
Nothing ain't right.
BERT
Why, wot's the worry?
BILL
Wot's the worry? They don't give you
better wages nor a dog, and then they thinks
they can talk at yer and talk at yer, and say
wot they likes, like.
BERT
Why? You been on the carpet, Bill?
BILL
Ain't I! Proper.
BERT
Why, wot about, Bill?
BILL
Wot about? I'll tell yer. Just coz I let
a lidy get into a train. That's wot about.
Said I ought to 'av stopped 'er. Thought the
train was moving. Thought it was dangerous.
Thought I tried to murder 'er, I suppose.
BERT
Wot? The other day?
BILL
Yes.
BERT
Tuesday?
BILL
Yes.
BERT
Why. The one that dropped her bag?
BILL
Yes. Drops 'er bag. Writes to the company.
They writes back she shouldn't 'av
got in. She writes back she should. Then
they gets on to me. Any more of it and
I'll...
BERT
I wouldn't, Bill; don't you.
BILL
I will.
BERT
Don't you, Bill. You've got your family
to consider.
BILL
Well, anyway, I won't let any more of
them passengers go jumping into trains any
more, not when they're moving, I won't.
When the train gets in, doors shut. That's
the rule. And they'll 'ave to abide by it.
BERT
Well, I wouldn't stop one, not if...
BILL
I don't care. They ain't going to 'ave me
on the mat again and talk all that stuff to
me. No, if someone 'as to suffer . . .
'Ere she is.
[Noise of approaching train heard.]
BERT
Ay, that's her.
BILL
And shut goes the door.
[Enter JOHN BEAL.]
BERT
Wait a moment, Bill.
BILL
Not if he's . . . Not if he was ever so.
JOHN [preparing to pass]
Good morning. . . .
BILL
Can't come through. Too late.
JOHN
Too late? Why, the train's only just in.
BILL
Don't care. It's the rule.
JOHN
O, nonsense. [He carries on.]
BILL
It's too late. I tell you you can't come.
JOHN
But that's absurd. I want to catch my
train.
BILL
It's too late.
BERT
Let him go, Bill.
BILL
I'm blowed if I let him go.
JOHN
I want to catch my train.
[JOHN is stopped by BILL and pushed
back by the face. JOHN advances towards
BILL looking like fighting. The train has
gone.]
BILL
Only doing my duty.
[JOHN stops and reflects at this, deciding
it isn't good enough. He shrugs his
shoulders, turns round and goes away.]
JOHN
I shouldn't be surprised if I didn't get even
with you one of these days, you . . . . . and
some way you won't expect.
Curtain
SCENE 2
Yesterday evening.
[Curtain rises on JOHN and MARY in
their suburban home.]
JOHN
I say, dear. Don't you think we ought to
plant an acacia?
MARY
An acacia, what's that, John?
JOHN
O, it's one of those trees that they have.
MARY
But why, John?
JOHN
Well, you see the house is called The Acacias,
and it seems rather silly not to have at
least one.
MARY
O, I don't think that matters. Lots of
places are called lots of things. Everyone
does.
JOHN
Yes, but it might help the postman.
MARY
O, no, it wouldn't, dear. He wouldn't
know an acacia if he saw it any more than I
should.
JOHN
Quite right, Mary, you're always right.
What a clever head you've got!
MARY
Have I, John? We'll plant an acacia if
you like. I'll ask about it at the grocer's.
JOHN
You can't get one there.
MARY
No, but he's sure to know where it can be
got.
JOHN
Where do they grow, Mary?
MARY
I don't know, John; but I am sure they do,
somewhere.
JOHN
Somehow I wish sometimes, I almost wish
I could have gone abroad for a week or so to
places like where acacias grow naturally.
MARY
O, would you really, John?
JOHN
No, not really. But I just think of it
sometimes.
MARY
Where would you have gone?
JOHN
O, I don't know. The East or some such
place. I've often heard people speak of it,
and somehow it seemed so. . .
MARY
The East, John? Not the East. I don't
think the East somehow is quite respectable.
JOHN
O well, it's all right, I never went, and
never shall go now. It doesn't matter.
MARY [the photographs catching her eye]
O, John, I meant to tell you. Such a dreadful
thing happened.
JOHN
What, Mary?
MARY
Well, Liza was dusting the photographs,
and when she came to Jane's she says she
hadn't really begun to dust it, only looked at
it, and it fell down, and that bit of glass is
broken right out of it.
JOHN
Ask her not to look at it so hard another
time.
MARY
O, what do you mean, John?
JOHN
Well, that's how she broke it; she said so,
and as I know you believe in Liza . . .
MARY
Well, I can't think she'd tell a lie, John.
JOHN
No, of course not. But she mustn't look
so hard another time.
MARY
And it's poor little Jane's photograph.
She will feel it so.
JOHN
O, that's all right, we'll get it mended.
MARY
Still, it's a dreadful thing to have happened.
JOHN
We'll get it mended, and if Jane is unhappy
about it she can have Alice's frame. Alice
is too young to notice it.
MARY
She isn't, John. She'd notice it quick.
JOHN
Well, George, then.
MARY [looking at photo thoughtfully]
Well, perhaps George might give up his
frame.
JOHN
Yes, tell Liza to change it. Why not make
her do it now?
MARY
Not to-day, John. Not on a Sunday.
She shall do it to-morrow by the time you get
back from the office.
JOHN
All right. It might have been worse.
MARY
It's bad enough. I wish it hadn't happened.
JOHN
It might have been worse. It might have
been Aunt Martha.
MARY
I'd sooner it had been her than poor little
Jane.
JOHN
If it had been Aunt Martha's photograph
she'd have walked in next day and seen it for
certain; I know Aunt Martha. Then there'd
have been trouble.
MARY
But, John, how could she have known?
JOHN
I don't know, but she would have; it's a
kind of devilish sense she has.
MARY
John!
JOHN
What's the matter?
MARY
John! What a dreadful word you used.
And on a Sunday too! Really!
JOHN
O, I'm sorry. It slipped out somehow.
I'm very sorry.
[Enter LIZA.]
LIZA
There's a gentleman to see you, sir, which
isn't, properly speaking, a gentleman at all.
Not what I should call one, that is, like.
MARY
Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza!
Whatever do you mean?
LIZA
He's black.
MARY
Black?
JOHN [reassuring]
O . . . yes, that would be Ali. A queer
old customer, Mary; perfectly harmless. Our
firm gets hundreds of carpets through him;
and then one day . . .
MARY
But what is he doing here, John?
JOHN
Well, one day he turned up in London;
broke, he said; and wanted the firm to give
him a little cash. Well, old Briggs was for
giving him ten shillings. But I said "here's
a man that's helped us in making thousands
of pounds. Let's give him fifty."
MARY
Fifty pounds!
JOHN
Yes, it seems a lot; but it seemed only fair.
Ten shillings would have been an insult to
the old fellow, and he'd have taken it as such.
You don't know what he'd have done.
MARY
Well, he doesn't want more?
JOHN
No, I expect he's come to thank me. He
seemed pretty keen on getting some cash.
Badly broke, you see. Don't know what he was
doing in London. Never can tell with these
fellows. East is East, and there's an end of it.
MARY
How did he trace you here?
JOHN
O, got the address at the office. Briggs
and Cater won't let theirs be known. Not
got such a smart little house, I expect.
MARY
I don't like letting people in that you don't
know where they come from.
JOHN
O, he comes from the East.
MARY
Yes, I--I know. But the East doesn't seem
quite to count, somehow, as the proper sort of
place to come from, does it, dear?
JOHN
No.
MARY
It's not like Sydenham or Bromley, some
place you can put your finger on.
JOHN
Perhaps just for once, I don't think there's
any harm in him.
MARY
Well, just for once. But we can't make a
practice of it. And you don't want to be
thinking of business on a Sunday, your only
day off.
JOHN
O, it isn't business, you know. He only
wants to say thank you.
MARY
I hope he won't say it in some queer
Eastern way. You don't know what these
people. . . .
JOHN
O, no. Show him up, Liza.
LIZA
As you like, mum.
[Exit.]
MARY
And you gave him fifty pounds?
JOHN
Well, old Briggs agreed to it. So I suppose
that's what he got. Cater paid him.
MARY
It seems a lot of money. But I think, as
the man is actually coming up the stairs,
I'm glad he's got something to be grateful
for.
[Enter ALI, shown in by LIZA.]
ALI
Protector of the Just.
JOHN
O, er--yes. Good evening.
ALI
My soul was parched and you bathed it
in rivers of gold.
JOHN
O, ah, yes.
ALI
Wherefore the name Briggs, Cater, and Beal
shall be magnified and called blessed.
JOHN
Ha, yes. Very good of you.
ALI [advancing, handing trinket]
Protector of the Just, my offering.
JOHN
Your offering?
ALI
Hush. It is beyond price. I am not
bidden to sell it. I was in my extremity, but
I was not bidden to sell it. It is a token of
gratitude, a gift, as it came to me.
JOHN
As it came to you?
ALI
Yes, it was given me.
JOHN
I see. Then you had given somebody what
you call rivers of gold?
ALI
Not gold; it was in Sahara.
JOHN
O, and what do you give in the Sahara
instead of gold?
ALI
Water.
JOHN
I see. You got it for a glass of water, like.
ALI
Even so.
JOHN
And--and what happened?
MARY
I wouldn't take his only crystal, dear.
It's a nice little thing, but [to ALI], but you
think a lot of it, don't you?
ALI
Even so.
JOHN
But look here, what does it do?
ALI
Much.
JOHN
Well, what?
ALI
He that taketh this crystal, so, in his hand,
at night, and wishes, saying "At a certain
hour let it be"; the hour comes and he will
go back eight, ten, even twelve years if he
will, into the past, and do a thing again, or
act otherwise than he did. The day passes;
the ten years are accomplished once again; he
is here once more; but he is what he might
have become had he done that one thing
otherwise.
MARY
John!
JOHN
I--I don't understand.
ALI
To-night you wish. All to-morrow you
live the last ten years; a new way, master, a
new way, how you please. To-morrow night
you are here, what those years have made you.
JOHN
By Jove!
MARY
Have nothing to do with it, John.
JOHN
All right, Mary, I'm not going to. But,
do you mean one could go back ten years?
ALI
Even so.
JOHN
Well, it seems odd, but I'll take your word
for it. But look here, you can't live ten years
in a day, you know.
ALI
My master has power over time.
MARY
John, don't have anything to do with him.
JOHN
All right, Mary. But who is your master?
ALI
He is carved of one piece of jade, a god in
the greenest mountains. The years are his
dreams. This crystal is his treasure. Guard
it safely, for his power is in this more than
in all the peaks of his native hills. See what
I give you, master.
JOHN
Well, really, it's very good of you.
MARY
Good night, Mr. Ali. We are very much
obliged for your kind offer, which we are so
sorry we can't avail ourselves of.
JOHN
One moment, Mary. Do you mean that
I can go back ten years, and live till--till now
again, and only be away a day?
ALI
Start early and you will be here before
midnight.
JOHN
Would eight o'clock do!
ALI
You could be back by eleven that evening.
JOHN
I don't quite see how ten years could go
in a single day.
ALI
They will go as dreams go.
JOHN
Even so, it seems rather unusual, doesn't
it?
ALI
Time is the slave of my master
MARY
John!
JOHN
All right, Mary. [In a lower voice.] I'm
only trying to see what he'll say.
MARY
All right, John, only . . .
ALI
Is there no step that you would wish
untrodden, nor stride that you would make
where once you faltered?
JOHN
I say, why don't you use it yourself?
ALI
I? I am afraid of the past. But you
Engleesh, and the great firm of Briggs, Cater,
and Beal; you are afraid of nothing.
JOHN
Ha, ha. Well--I wouldn't go quite as far
as that, but--well, give me the crystal.
MARY
Don't take it, John! Don't take it.
JOHN
Why, Mary? It won't hurt me.
MARY
If it can do all that--if it can do all that . . .
JOHN
Well?
MARY
Why, you might never have met me.
JOHN
Never have met you? I never thought of
that.
MARY
Leave the past alone, John.
JOHN
All right, Mary. I needn't use it. But I
want to hear about it, it's so odd, it's so
what-you-might-call queer; I don't think I
ever----- [To ALI.] You mean if I work
hard for ten years, which will only be all
to-morrow, I may be Governor of the Bank
of England to-morrow night.
ALI
Even so.
MARY
O, don't do it, John.
JOHN
But you said--I'll be back here before
midnight to-morrow.
ALI
It is so.
JOHN
But the Governor of the Bank of England
would live in the City, and he'd have a much
bigger house anyway. He wouldn't live in
Lewisham.
ALI
The crystal will bring you to this house
when the hour is accomplished, even
tomorrow night. If you be the great banker
you will perhaps come to chastise one of your
slaves who will dwell in this house. If you
be head of Briggs and Cater you will come to
give an edict to one of your firm. Perchance
this street will be yours and you will come to
show your power unto it. But you will come.
JOHN
And if the house is not mine?
MARY
John! John! Don't.
ALI
Still you will come.
JOHN
Shall I remember?
ALI
No.
JOHN
If I want to do anything different to what
I did, how shall I remember when I get back
there?
MARY
Don't. Don't do anything different, John.
JOHN
All right.
ALI
Choose just before the hour of the step
you desire to change. Memory lingers a little
at first, and fades away slowly.
JOHN
Five minutes?
ALI
Even ten.
JOHN
Then I can change one thing. After that I
forget.
ALI
Even so. One thing. And the rest follows.
JOHN
Well, it's very good of you to make me this
nice present, I'm sure.
ALI
Sell it not. Give it, as I gave it, if the heart
impels. So shall it come back one day to the
hills that are brighter than grass, made richer
by the gratitude of many men. And my
master shall smile thereat and the vale shall
be glad.
JOHN
It's very good of you, I'm sure.
MARY
I don't like it, John. I don't like tampering
with what's gone.
ALI
My master's power is in your hands.
Farewell.
[Exit.]
JOHN
I say, he's gone.
MARY
O, he's a dreadful man.
JOHN
I never really meant to take it.
MARY
O, John, I wish you hadn't
JOHN
Why? I'm not going to use it.
MARY
Not going to use it, John?
JOHN
No, no. Not if you don't want me to.
MARY
O, I'm so glad.
JOHN
And besides, I don't want things different.
I've got fond of this little house. And Briggs
is a good old sort, you know. Cater's a bit
of an ass, but there's no harm in him. In
fact, I'm contented, Mary. I wouldn't even
change Aunt Martha now.
[Points at frowning framed photograph
centrally hung.]
You remember when she first came and
you said "Where shall we hang her?" I said
the cellar. You said we couldn't. So she had
to go there. But I wouldn't change her now.
I suppose there are old watch-dogs like her in
every family. I wouldn't change anything.
MARY
O, John, wouldn't you really?
JOHN
No, I'm contented. Grim old soul, I
wouldn't even change Aunt Martha.
MARY
I'm glad of that, John. I was frightened.
I couldn't bear to tamper with the past.
You don't know what it is, it's what's gone.
But if it really isn't gone at all, if it can be dug
up like that, why you don't know what
mightn't happen! I don't mind the future,
but if the past can come back like that....
O, don't, don't, John. Don't think of it.
It isn't canny. There's the children, John.
JOHN
Yes, yes, that's all right. It's only a little
ornament. I won't use it. And I tell you
I'm content. [Happily] It's no use to me.
MARY
I'm so glad you're content, John. Are you
really? Is there nothing that you'd have had
different? I sometimes thought you'd rather
that Jane had been a boy.
JOHN
Not a bit of it. Well, I may have at the
time, but Arthur's good enough for me.
MARY
I'm so glad. And there's nothing you ever
regret at all?
JOHN
Nothing. And you? Is there nothing you
regret, Mary?
MARY
Me? Oh, no. I still think that sofa would
have been better green, but you would have
it red.
JOHN
Yes, so I would. No, there's nothing I
regret.
MARY
I don't suppose there's many men can say
that.
JOHN
No, I don't suppose they can. They're
not all married to you. I don't suppose
many of them can.
[MARY smiles.]
MARY
I should think that very few could say
that they regretted nothing . . . very few
in the whole world.
JOHN
Well, I won't say nothing.
MARY
What is it you regret, John?
JOHN
Well, there is one thing.
MARY
And what is that?
JOHN
One thing has rankled a bit.
MARY
Yes, John?
JOHN
O, it's nothing, it's nothing worth
mentioning. But it rankled for years.
MARY
What was it, John?
JOHN
O, it seems silly to mention it. It was
nothing.
MARY
But what?
JOHN
O, well, if you want to know, it was once
when I missed a train. I don't mind missing
a train, but it was the way the porter pushed
me out of the way. He pushed me by the
face. I couldn't hit back, because, well, you
know what lawyers make of it; I might have
been ruined. So it just rankled. It was years
ago before we married.
MARY
Pushed you by the face. Good gracious!
JOHN
Yes, I'd like to have caught that train in
spite of him. I sometimes think of it still.
Silly of me, isn't it?
MARY
What a brute of a man.
JOHN
O, I suppose he was doing his silly duty.
But it rankled.
MARY
He'd no right to do any such thing! He'd
no right to touch you!
JOHN
O, well, never mind.
MARY
I should like to have been there. . .
I'd have . . .
JOHN
O, well, it can't be helped now; but I'd
like to have caught it in sp . . .
[An idea seizes him.]
MARY
What is it?
JOHN
Can't be helped, I said. It's the very thing
that can be helped.
MARY
Can be helped, John? Whatever do you
mean?
JOHN
I mean he'd no right to stop me catching
that train. I've got the crystal, and I'll
catch it yet!
MARY
O, John, that's what you said you wouldn't
do.
JOHN
No. I said I'd do nothing to alter the past.
And I won't. I'm too content, Mary. But
this can't alter it. This is nothing.
MARY
What were you going to catch the train
for, John?
JOHN
For London. I wasn't at the office then.
It was a business appointment. There was a
man who had promised to get me a job, and
I was going up to . . .
MARY
John, it may alter your whole life!
JOHN
Now do listen, Mary, do listen. He never
turned up. I got a letter from him apologising
to me before I posted mine to him. It
turned out he never meant to help me, mere
meaningless affabilities. He never came to
London that day at all. I should have taken
the next train back. That can't affect the
future.
MARY
N-no, John. Still, I don't like it.
JOHN
What difference could it make?
MARY
N-n-no.
JOHN
Think how we met. We met at ARCHIE's
wedding. I take it one has to go to one's
brother's wedding. It would take a pretty
big change to alter that. And. you were her
bridesmaid. We were bound to meet. And
having once met, well, there you are. If we'd
met by chance, in a train, or anything like
that, well, then I admit some little change
might alter it. But when we met at ARCHIE's
wedding and you were her bridesmaid, why,
Mary, it's a cert. Besides, I believe in
predestination. It was our fate; we couldn't
have missed it.
MARY
No, I suppose not; still . .
JOHN
Well, what?
MARY
I don't like it.
JOHN
O, Mary, I have so longed to catch that
infernal train. Just think of it, annoyed on
and off for ten years by the eight-fifteen.
MARY
I'd rather you didn't, John.
JOHN
But why?
MARY
O, John, suppose there's a railway
accident? You might be killed, and we should
never meet.
JOHN
There wasn't.
MARY
There wasn't, John? What do you mean?
JOHN
There wasn't an accident to the eight-fifteen.
It got safely to London just ten years ago.
MARY
Why, nor there was.
JOHN
You see how groundless your fears are.
I shall catch that train, and all the rest will
happen the same as before. Just think
Mary, all those old days again. I wish I
could take you with me. But you soon will
be. But just think of the old days coming
back again. Hampton Court again and Kew,
and Richmond Park again with all the May.
And that bun you bought, and the corked
ginger-beer, and those birds singing and the
'bus past Isleworth. O, Mary, you wouldn't
grudge me that?
MARY
Well, well then all right, John.
JOHN
And you will remember there wasn't an
accident, won't you?
MARY [resignedly, sadly]
O, yes, John. And you won't try to get
rich or do anything silly, will you?
JOHN
No, Mary. I only want to catch that
train. I'm content with the rest. The same
things must happen, and they must lead me
the same way, to you, Mary. Good night,
now, dear.
MARY
Good night?
JOHN
I shall stay here on the sofa holding the
crystal and thinking. Then I'll have a
biscuit and start at seven.
MARY
Thinking, John? What about?
JOHN
Getting it clear in my mind what I want
to do. That one thing and the rest the same.
There must be no mistakes.
MARY [sadly]
Good night, John.
JOHN
Have supper ready at eleven.
MARY
Very well, John.
[Exit.]
JOHN [on the sofa, after a moment or two]
I'll catch that infernal train in spite of him.
[He takes the crystal and closes it up in
the palm of his left hand.]
I wish to go back ten years, two weeks and
a day, at, at--8.10 a.m. to-morrow; 8.10 a.m.
to-morrow, 8.10.
[Re-enter MARY in doorway.]
MARY
John! John! You are sure he did get
his fifty pounds?
JOHN
Yes. Didn't he come to thank me for the
money?
MARY
You are sure it wasn't ten shillings?
JOHN
Cater paid him, I didn't.
MARY
Are you sure that Cater didn't give him
ten shillings?
JOHN
It's the sort of silly thing Cater would have
done!
MARY
O, John!
JOHN
Hmm.
Curtain
SCENE 3
Scene: As in Act I, Scene 1.
Time. Ten years ago.
BERT
'Ow goes it, Bill?
BILL
Goes it? 'Ow d'yer think it goes?
BERT
I don't know, Bill. 'Ow is it?
BILL
Bloody.
BERT
Why, what's wrong?
BILL
Wrong? Nothing ain't wrong.
BERT
What's up, then?
BILL
Nothing ain't right.
BERT
Why, wot's the worry?
BILL
Wot's the worry? They don't give you
better wages nor a dog, and then they thinks
they can talk at yer and talk at yer, and say
wot they likes, like.
BERT
Why? You been on the carpet, Bill?
BILL
Ain't I! Proper.
BERT
Why? Wot about, Bill?
BILL
Wot about? I'll tell yer. Just coz I let
a lidy get into a train. That's wot about.
Said I ought to 'av stopped 'er. Thought the
train was moving. Thought it was dangerous.
Thought I tried to murder 'er, I suppose.
BERT
Wot? The other day?
BILL
Yes.
BERT?
Tuesday?
BILL
Yes.
BERT
Why? The one that dropped her bag?
BILL
Yes. Drops 'er bag. Writes to the
company. They writes back she shouldn't 'av
got in. She writes back she should. Then
they gets on to me. Any more of it and I'll. . .
BERT
I wouldn't, Bill; don't you.
BILL
I will.
BERT
Don't you, Bill. You've got your family
to consider.
BILL
Well, anyway, I won't let any more of
them passengers go jumping into trains any
more, not when they're moving, I won't.
When the train gets in, doors shut. That's
the rule, and they'll have to abide by it.
[Enter JOHN BEAL.]
BILL [touching his hat]
Good morning, sir.
[JOHN does not answer, but walks to the
door between them.]
Carry your bag, sir?
JOHN
Go to hell!
[Exit through door.]
BILL
Ullo.
BERT
Somebody's been getting at 'im.
BILL
Well, I never did. Why, I knows the young
feller.
BERT
Pleasant spoken, ain't 'e, as a rule?
BILL
Never knew 'im like this.
BERT
You ain't bin sayin' nothing to 'im, 'ave
yer?
BILL
Never in my life.
BERT
Well, I never.
BILL
'Ad some trouble o' some kind.
BERT
Must 'ave.
[Train is heard.]
BILL
Ah, 'ere she is. Well, as I was saying . . .
Curtain
SCENE 4
In a second-class railway carriage.
Time: Same morning as Scene 1, Act I.
Noise, and a scene drawn past the
windows. The scene, showing a
momentary glimpse of fair English hills, is
almost entirely placards, "GIVE HER
BOVRIL," "GIVE HER OXO,"
alternately, for ever.
Occupants, JOHN BEAL, a girl, a man.
All sit in stoical silence like the two
images near Luxor. The man has the
window seat, and therefore the right of
control over the window.
MIRALDA CLEMENT
Would you mind having the window open?
THE MAN IN THE CORNER [shrugging his
shoulders in a shivery way]
Er--certainly. [Meaning he does not mind.
He opens the window.]
MIRALDA CLEMENT
Thank you so much.
MAN IN THE CORNER
Not at all. [He does not mean to contradict
her. Stoical silence again.]
MIRALDA CLEMENT
Would you mind having it shut now? I
think it is rather cold.
MAN IN THE CORNER
Certainly.
[He shuts it. Silence again.]
MIRALDA CLEMENT
I think I'd like the window open again now
for a bit. It is rather stuffy, isn't it?
MAN IN THE CORNER
Well, I think it's very cold.
MIRALDA CLEMENT
O, do you? But would you mind opening
it for me?
MAN IN THE CORNER
I'd much rather it was shut, if you don't
mind.
[She sighs, moves her hands slightly, and
her pretty face expresses the resignation of
the Christian martyr in the presence of
lions. This for the benefit of John.]
JOHN
Allow me, madam.
[He leans across the window's rightful
owner, a bigger man than he, and opens his
window.
MAN IN THE CORNER shrugs his shoulders
and, quite sensibly, turns to his paper.]
MIRALDA
O, thank you so much.
JOHN
Don't mention it.
[Silence again.]
VOICES OF PORTERS [Off]
Fan Kar, Fan Kar.
[MAN IN THE CORNER gets out.]
MIRALDA
Could you tell me where this is?
JOHN
Yes. Elephant and Castle.
MIRALDA
Thank you so much. It was kind of you to
protect me from that horrid man. He wanted
to suffocate me.
JOHN
O, very glad to assist you, I'm sure. Very
glad.
MIRALDA
I should have been afraid to have done it in
spite of him. It was splendid of you.
JOHN
O, that was nothing.
MIRALDA
O, it was, really.
JOHN
Only too glad to help you in any little way.
MIRALDA
It was so kind of you.
JOHN
O, not at all.
[Silence for a bit.]
MIRALDA
I've nobody to help me.
JOHN
Er, er, haven't you really?
MIRALDA
No, nobody.
JOHN
I'd be very glad to help you in any little
way.
MIRALDA
I wonder if you could advise me.
JOHN
I--I'd do my best.
MIRALDA
You see, I have nobody to advise me.
JOHN
No, of course not.
MIRALDA
I live with my aunt, and she doesn't
understand. I've no father or mother.
JOHN
O, er, er, really?
MIRALDA
No. And an uncle died and he left me a
hundred thousand pounds.
JOHN
Really?
MIRALDA
Yes. He didn't like me. I think he did it
out of contrariness as much as anything.
He was always like that to me.
JOHN
Was he? Was he really?
MIRALDA
Yes. It was invested at twenty-five per
cent. He never liked me. Thought I was
too--I don't know what.
JOHN
No.
MIRALDA
That was five years ago, and I've never got
a penny of it.
JOHN
Really. But, but that's not right.
MIRALDA [sadly]
No.
JOHN
Where's it invested?
MIRALDA
In Al Shaldomir.
JOHN
Where's that?
MIRALDA
I don't quite know. I never was good at
geography. I never quite knew where Persia
ends.
JOHN
And what kind of an investment was it?
MIRALDA
There's a pass in some mountains that they
can get camels over, and a huge toll is levied
on everything that goes by; that is the custom
of the tribe that lives there, and I believe
the toll is regularly collected.
JOHN
And who gets it?
MIRALDA
The chief of the tribe. He is called Ben
Hussein. But my uncle lent him all this
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