If
By Lord Dunsany
[Dunsany, Edward John Moreton Drax Plunkett, Baron]
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.
Contents
|
[ IF ]
[ ACT I ] [ ACT II ] [ ACT III ] [ ACT IV ] |
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 money, and the toll on the camels was what they call the security. They always carry gold and turquoise, you know.
JOHN
Do they?
MIRALDA
Yes, they get it from the rivers.
JOHN
I see.
MIRALDA
It does seem a shame his not paying, doesn't it?
JOHN
A shame? I should think it is. An awful shame. Why, it's a crying shame. He ought to go to prison.
MIRALDA
Yes, he ought. But you see it's so hard to find him. It isn't as if it was this side of Persia. It's being on the other side that is such a pity. If only it was in a country like, like...
JOHN
I'd soon find him. I'd... Why, a man like that deserves anything.
MIRALDA
It is good of you to say that.
JOHN
Why, I'd... And you say you never got a penny?
MIRALDA
No.
JOHN
Well, that is a shame. I call that a downright shame.
MIRALDA
Now, what ought I to do?
JOHN
Do? Well, now, you know in business there's nothing like being on the spot. When you're on the spot you can—but then, of course, it's so far.
MIRALDA
It is, isn't it?
JOHN
Still, I think you should go if you could. If only I could offer to help you in any way, I would gladly, but of course...
MIRALDA
What would you do?
JOHN
I'd go and find that Hussein fellow; and then...
MIRALDA
Yes?
JOHN
Why, I'd tell him a bit about the law, and make him see that you didn't keep all that money that belonged to someone else.
MIRALDA
Would you really?
JOHN
Nothing would please me better.
MIRALDA
Would you really? Would you go all that way?
JOHN
It's just the sort of thing that I should like, apart from the crying shame. The man ought to be...
MIRALDA
We're getting into Holborn. Would you come and lunch somewhere with me and talk it over?
JOHN
Gladly. I'd be glad to help. I've got to see a man on business first. I've come up to see him. And then after that, after that there was something I wanted to do after that. I can't think what it was. But something I wanted to do after that. O, heavens, what was it?
[Pause.]
MIRALDA
Can't you think?
JOHN
No. O, well, it can't have been so very important. And yet... Well, where shall we lunch?
MIRALDA
Gratzenheim's.
JOHN
Right. What time?
MIRALDA
One-thirty. Would that suit?
JOHN
Perfectly. I'd like to get a man like Hussein in prison. I'd like... O, I beg your pardon.
[He hurries to open the door. Exit MIRALDA.]
Now what was it I wanted to do afterwards?
[Throws hand to forehead.] O, never mind.
Curtain
ACT II
SCENE
JOHN's tent in Al Shaldomir. There are two heaps of idols, left and right, lying upon the ground inside the tent. DAOUD carries another idol in his arms. JOHN looks at its face.
Six months have elapsed since the scene in the second-class railway carriage.
JOHN BEAL
This god is holy.
[He points to the left heap. DAOUD carries it there and lays it on the heap.]
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
You are in no wise to call me great master. Have not I said so? I am not your master. I am helping you people. I know better than you what you ought to do, because I am English. But that's all. I'm not your master, See?
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
O, go and get some more idols. Hurry.
DAOUD
Great master, I go. [Exit.]
JOHN BEAL
I can't make these people out.
DAOUD [returning]
I have three gods.
JOHN BEAL [looking at their faces, pointing to the two smaller idols first] These two are holy. This one is unholy.
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
Put them on the heap.
[DAOUD does so, two left, one right.]
Get some more.
[DAOUD salaams. Exit.]
[Looking at right heap.] What a—what a filthy people
[Enter DAOUD with two idols.]
JOHN BEAL [after scrutiny]
This god is holy, this is unholy.
[Enter ARCHIE BEAL, wearing a "Bowler" hat.]
Why, ARCHIE, this is splendid of you! You've come! Why, that's splendid! All that way!
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I've come. Whatever are you doing?
JOHN BEAL
ARCHIE, it's grand of you to come! I never ought to have asked it of you, only...
ARCHIE BEAL
O, that's all right. But what in the world are you doing?
JOHN BEAL
ARCHIE, it's splendid of you.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, cut it. That's all right. But what's all this?
JOHN BEAL
O, this. Well, well they're the very oddest people here. It's a long story. But I wanted to tell you first how enormously grateful I am to you for coming.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, that's all right. But I want to know what you're doing with all these genuine antiques.
JOHN BEAL
Well, ARCHIE, the fact of it is they're a real odd lot of people here. I've learnt their language, more or less, but I don't think I quite understand them yet. A lot of them are Mahommedans; they worship Mahommed, you know. He's dead. But a lot of them worship these things, and...
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, what have you got 'em all in here for?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, that's just it. I hate interfering with them, but, well, I simply had to. You see there's two sorts of idols here; they offer fruit and rats to some of them; they lay them on their hands or their laps.
ARCHIE BEAL
Why do they offer them rats?
JOHN BEAL
O, I don't know. They don't know either. It's the right thing to do out here, it's been the right thing for hundreds of years; nobody exactly knows why. It's like the bows we have on evening shoes, or anything else. But it's all right.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, what are you putting them in heaps for?
JOHN BEAL
Because there's the other kind, the ones with wide mouths and rust round them.
ARCHIE BEAL
Rust? Yes, so there is. What do they do?
JOHN BEAL
They offer blood to them, ARCHIE. They pour it down their throats. Sometimes they kill people, sometimes they only bleed them. It depends how much blood the idol wants.
ARCHIE BEAL
How much blood it wants? Good Lord! How do they know?
JOHN BEAL
The priests tell them. Sometimes they fill them up to their necks—they're all hollow, you know. In spring it's awful.
ARCHIE BEAL
Why are they worse in spring?
JOHN BEAL
I don't know. The priests ask for more blood then. Much more. They say it always was so.
ARCHIE BEAL
And you're stopping it?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, I'm stopping these. One must. I'm letting them worship those. Of course, it's idolatry and all that kind of thing, but I don't like interfering short of actual murder.
ARCHIE BEAL
And they're obeying you?
JOHN BEAL
'M, y-yes. I think so.
ARCHIE BEAL
You must have got a great hold over them.
JOHN BEAL
Well, I don't know about that. It's the pass that counts.
ARCHIE BEAL
The pass?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, that place you came over. It's the only way anyone can get here.
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I suppose it is. But how does the pass affect these idols?
JOHN BEAL
It affects everything here. If that pass were closed no living man would ever enter or leave, or even hear of, this country. It's absolutely cut off except for that one pass. Why, ARCHIE, it isn't even on the map.
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I know.
JOHN BEAL
Well, whoever owns that pass is everybody. No one else counts.
ARCHIE BEAL
And who does own it?
JOHN BEAL
Well, it's actually owned by a fellow called Hussein, but Miss Clement's uncle, a man called Hinnard, a kind of lonely explorer, seems to have come this way; and I think he understood what this pass is worth. Anyhow, he lent Hussein a big sum of money and got an acknowledgment from Hussein. Old Hinnard must have been a wonderfully shrewd man. For that acknowledgment is no more legal than an I.O.U., and Hussein is simply a brigand.
ARCHIE BEAL
Not very good security.
JOHN BEAL
Well, you're wrong there. Hussein himself respects that piece of parchment he signed. There's the name of some god or other written on it Hussein is frightened of. Now you see how things are. That pass is as holy as all the gods that there are in Al Shaldomir. Hussein possesses it. But he owes an enormous sum to Miss Miralda Clement, and I am here as her agent; and you've come to help me like a great sportsman.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, never mind that. Well, it all seems pretty simple.
JOHN BEAL
Well, I don't know, ARCHIE. Hussein admits the debt, but...
ARCHIE BEAL
But what?
JOHN BEAL
I don't know what he'll do.
ARCHIE BEAL
Wants watching, does he?
JOHN BEAL