by Virginia Woolf.
Dramatised for Radio 4, Classic Serial, in two episodes
by Michelene Wandor.
♦
Clarissa Dalloway
Richard Dalloway
Elizabeth Dalloway
Lucrezia Warren-Smith
Septimus Warren-Smith
Peter Walsh
Sally Seton
Lucy
Miss Kilman
Hugh Whitbread
Lady Bruton
Dr Holmes
Sir William Bradshaw
Miss Brush
Mrs Walker
Miss Pym
Dubonnet
Stephens
Shop Assistant
Waitress
Receptionist
MORNING
(Music: Erik Satie: Gymnopedies)
SCENE ONE
CLARISSA (over) A June morning in London. Soft blue grey air. I build my London around me, creating it every moment afresh. I am at peace in the midst of carriages and motor cars, omnibuses and vans. I am at ease among the triumph and the jingle, the shops and parks. In this moment of summer, there is a solemnity, a suspense, a hushed moment just before Big Ben strikes.
(Music continues, and Big Ben begins to strike eight o’clock.)
CLARISSA (over) Big Ben strikes, on a June morning in London. The leaden circles dissolve in the air
(Music fades, and Big Ben mixes into a silvery clock in dining room. Breakfast)
SCENE TWO
CLARISSA Richard.
(Newspaper rustle.)
RICHARD Yes, Clarissa?
CLARISSA I want to ask you something.
RICHARD What, my dear?
CLARISSA Do you think we should have ices?
RICHARD For breakfast?
CLARISSA No, no. Shall we have ices tonight?
RICHARD Oh, I see. Tonight. Well, why not. Yes. By all means, let us have ices.
CLARISSA Everything else is ordered. Chairs, flowers. Cloakroom tickets.
RICHARD Cloakroom tickets?
CLARISSA The party, Richard. My party. I was thinking of lemon and vanilla.
RICHARD Lemon and vanilla cloakroom tickets?
CLARISSA Oh, really. Ices. Lemon and vanilla ices.
(Door opens over the last speech. Hurried footsteps.)
ELIZABETH Mother – have you seen my green jacket?
CLARISSA Lucy will find it for you.
RICHARD ‘Morning, Elizabeth.
CLARISSA Toast?
ELIZABETH No, thank you. I’m late. I’m meeting Miss Kilman. We’re going to the Army and Navy Stores.
CLARISSA Good heavens.
ELIZABETH We’re going to do some shopping.
CLARISSA I don’t understand why you spend so much time with her.
ELIZABETH Oh, Mother. Miss Kilman knows so much about history. She is wonderfully enthusiastic. Inspiring, even.
RICHARD I believe she does some University Extension Lecturing.
ELIZABETH Yes. And she is very devout. I admire her for that.
CLARISSA In my experience, religious ecstasy makes people callous.
ELIZABETH Miss Kilman believes in causes. Surely you approve of that?
CLARISSA I’m sure she is a paragon of compassion. But she doesn’t care in the least how she dresses. She inflicts positive torture with that green mackintosh coat.
ELIZABETH It’s the only coat she owns.
CLARISSA Exactly. She is never in the room for five minutes without making you feel her superiority and your inferiority. How poor she is. How rich you are. How she lives in a slum without a cushion or a bed –
ELIZABETH Of course she has a bed.
CLARISSA Well, a rug, or whatever it might be. Her soul is rusted with grievances.
ELIZABETH Why do you hate her so much, Mother?
CLARISSA It isn’t her one hates, but the idea of her. She is one of those spectres with whom one battles during the night. Elizabeth. I have to order flowers. You could help me choose. And I must have a new pair of gloves. Why not come shopping with me?
(Chair scraping back.)
ELIZABETH Another day, Mother.
(Door closes.)
CLARISSA Oh, Richard, I wish she was more – graceful. More ladylike.
RICHARD Elizabeth is lovely just as she is.
SCENE THREE
(Breakfast room fades into Satie.)
REZIA (over) A June morning in London. Another day with carriages, motor cars, omnibuses. So much noise. So many people. I wish I could shout for help so loudly that my sisters will hear me and come from Milan to London, to be with me.
SEPTIMUS Rezia? What are you looking at?
REZIA Just the street, Septimus. Come and see. It’s a beautiful day.
SEPTIMUS Close the window, please.
(Casement window closes.)
REZIA I wonder if it’s hot in Milan?
(Satie fades into a slightly discordant mantelpiece clock, striking the half hour.)
SEPTIMUS Are we going to Milan?
REZIA Not today. We have an appointment to see Dr Holmes today. Remember?
SEPTIMUS Yes. I remember. I like Holmes.
REZIA And he likes you. Then, this afternoon, we’re going to see Sir William Bradshaw.
SEPTIMUS Do I know him?
REZIA No. He has consulting rooms in Harley Street.
SEPTIMUS Why are we going to see another doctor?
REZIA Just to get a second opinion. Two appointments in one day. We’ll be busy.
(Wardrobe door opens.)
SEPTIMUS What are you doing now?
REZIA I’m looking for my new hat. Ah. What do you think?
SEPTIMUS Why do you need a hat, if we’re going to see a doctor?
REZIA You can tell everything about a woman by the hat she wears. I want to wear my new hat. I finished it yesterday, after supper.
(SEPTIMUS laughs.)
Is that funny? Good. I’m glad it’s funny. Shall we go for a walk In Regent’s Park?
SEPTIMUS Yes. I’d like a walk.
REZIA When you are quite well, Septimus, we shall go back to Italy and walk in the parks in Milan. Come.
((Over door closing and footsteps on stairs.)
REZIA (over) Milan is so far away. White houses. Streets, crowded every evening with people walking, laughing out loud. I miss everything. I feel as if I am fading in London, like the last sparks of a rocket surrendering to the night.
SCENE FOUR
(Breakfast room. Big Ben in the distance striking three-quarters of an hour. Letters being opened.)
CLARISSA What time will you be home for luncheon, Richard?
RICHARD I’m lunching with Lady Bruton today.
CLARISSA Oh, dear. Today of all days. I have far too much to do. Could you ask her to invite us another day?
RICHARD Well, actually, Clarissa –
CLARISSA I see. I’m not invited.
RICHARD It’s a business lunch, my dear. You would be terribly bored. You don’t mind, do you?
CLARISSA Of course I don’t mind.
RICHARD I’m pleased to hear it. You have no need to be jealous of one lunch with Lady Bruton.
CLARISSA Jealousy, Richard, is vulgar. Millicent Bruton may give amusing lunch parties, but she shows the passage of time on her face. Last time I saw her I thought how much she had aged. (Letter rustles.) Well, I never.
RICHARD What is it?
CLARISSA Peter Walsh. He’s on his way back from India. After all this time. You remember Peter, don’t you?
RICHARD How could I forget the man who followed you round like a mournful spaniel every summer. He was always at Bourton.
CLARISSA Richard. I do believe you are still jealous of him. Peter always said I would marry a Prime Minister and stand at the top of a staircase.
RICHARD I am never jealous of dull people. And he was wrong about my becoming Prime Minister. Though we do, indeed have a number of staircases, and you often stand at the top of them . He was madly in love with you.
CLARISSA Yes, that’s quite true. But I didn’t marry him, Richard. I married you.
RICHARD So you did, my dear. (Kisses her on the cheek. She receives it gracefully.) You showed great taste.
CLARISSA You know, sometimes I wish I was more like you. One of those people who do things for themselves. Half the time I do things in order to make other people think this or that of me. I want people to be pleased, when I walk into a room.
RICHARD Clarissa. You know you have a gift for people.
CLARISSA I do. I understand people by instinct. If you put me in a room with someone, my back goes up like a cat’s. Or I purr.
RICHARD There you are. That’s your special gift.
CLARISSA Even so, if I could have my life all over again, I think I would want to be interested in politics, like a man.
RICHARD Why should you want to be interested in politics?
CLARISSA Oh, I don’t know. Fear no more the heat o’the sun.
RICHARD I don’t think it will be hot today. We are hardly into June.
CLARISSA Fear no more the heat o’the sun is Shakespeare. I expect that’s why I married you. Because you had never read Shakespeare.
RICHARD And I still haven’t. No decent man ought to read Shakespeare’s sonnets. It’s like listening at keyholes.
(Silvery clock begins to strike the hour.)
RICHARD (scrape of chair) Good Lord. I must be off. (Kiss on cheek.) Goodbye, my dear.
(Door opens. RICHARD and LUCY overlap, one leaving, one arriving.)
LUCY Shall I clear breakfast, Madam?
CLARISSA Please. (Dishes.) What time are the men coming?
LUCY About eleven.
CLARISSA Make sure they don’t scratch the furniture or mark the wallpaper. Oh, and could you find Miss Elizabeth’s green jacket?
LUCY Yes, Madam.
CLARISSA I shall need you later to help with the flowers and arrange the drawing room.
LUCY Yes, Madam.
(Dining room mixes with front door closing.)
SCENE FIVE
(Street.)
CLARISSA (over footsteps The air at Bourton was always calmer and more still than in London. Here, in Westminster, the air is like the flap of a wave. Chill and sharp, like the kiss of a wave. (Beat.) What a lark. What a plunge. Here I am. Mrs Dalloway. Not even Clarissa Dalloway, but Mrs Richard Dalloway. I am invisible. Unseen. Unknown. There is no more marrying, no more having children. The soft mesh of the grey-blue morning unwinds in the streets. Whirling young men and laughing young girls in their transparent muslins float along the pacements. And Peter Walsh is coming home from India.
SCENE SIX
(Satie mixes with hotel clock, striking nine. Soft breakfast sounds.)
WAITER Your post, Mr Walsh.
PETER Thank you, Stephens.
WAITER It’s good to see you again, sir.
PETER And you, Stephens. (Over envelope opening.) Still the same furniture in the hotel. Shabby white tablecloths. Red leather chairs and sofas. The same plants. Spiked, tired leaves. (Loud.) It’s a pleasure to be back.
SALLY (bright, over, in letter) Darling Peter. I have been the most frightfully bad correspondent. How long is it now? I am coming up to London for Clarissa’s party this evening, and I hope I shall see you.
(Satie.)
PETER (over). Clarissa at Bourton. Standing on the top of the hill, above the river Severn, her hands clapped to her hair, her cloak blowing out. Clarissa, kneeling down and boiling a kettle on a little fire. Smoke blowing in our faces.
SALLY (over) How about meeting me for tea before the party. By the red pillar box opposite the British Museum, at three o’clock.
PETER (over) Bourton in the dusk. Walking through stubble fields. Clarissa, always striding ahead. Finding a flower. Laughing. Talking about poetry, people, politics.
SALLY (over) I’m looking forward so much to seeing you again. Sally.
(Dining room fades into Satie, mixes into street.)
SCENE SEVEN
PETER (over footsteps) London is still as splendid as ever. Doctors, men of business, capable women, punctual, alert, wholly admirable, good fellows to whom one would entrust one’s life, companions in the art of living, who would see one through. There are moments when civilisation of this sort is as dear to me as a personal possession.
SCENE EIGHT
(Single set of footsteps mixes into two sets. Noisier street.)
SEPTIMUS Look, Rezia. Streamers.
REZIA Where?
SEPTIMUS Up there. On the trees.
REZIA Those aren’t streamers. It’s just the branches.
SEPTIMUS Hold my hand. I might fall into the flames.
REZIA It’s just a street, Septimus, with people, cars, children. The world is beautiful today. There are no flames.
(Footsteps mixes into single set, in Bond Street.)
SCENE NINE
(Smart heels.)
CLARISSA (over) Bond Street. Hat shops. A roll of tweed in the tailor’s shop, where my father bought his suits for fifty years. A string of pearls in the jeweller’s window. Salmon on an ice block in the fishmonger’s. Gloves. I must buy gloves. (Clatter of wheels, mixing with a slow car.) Here in the streets of London, on the ebb and flow of things, here I survive.
HUGH (from across the road) Clarissa. I say, Clarissa.
CLARISSA Why, Hugh Whitbread, of all people.
HUGH (breathless) What a pleasure to run into you. And looking so well.
(Big Ben begins to strike eleven.)
CLARISSA I didn’t know the admirable Hugh Whitbread shopped in Bond Street. What have you bought?
HUGH What? Oh, that’s my despatch box. I’m on my way to the office. And you? Where are you off to?
CLARISSA Final shopping for the party tonight. Walking in London is so much better than walking in the country. Have you and Evelyn come up for this evening?
HUGH Well, yes and no. We came up this morning. For your party – and not for your party. We’re here to see doctors again.
CLARISSA I am sorry. What is it this time?
HUGH Evelyn is a little out of sorts, I’m afraid.
CLARISSA Oh, dear. Look, I should very much like to buy something for her. What shall it be?
HUGH I don’t know. Something to read. Some sort of book, perhaps? I leave it up to you.
CLARISSA Very well. What about – ‘Cranford’? If only people had that sort of humour now. Yes. I think Evelyn would appreciate ‘Cranford’.
HUGH It’s a frightful bore, you know. Others come up to London to see pictures; to go to the opera, to take their daughters out. We come up to see doctors. That is how it is.
CLARISSA What a nuisance. One does age, though.
HUGH You never age, Clarissa.
CLARISSA Sweet of you to say so. Even if Evelyn is indisposed, will you still come to my party?
HUGH Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Evelyn will insist on my going.
CLARISSA Richard will be so pleased to see you.
HUGH Actually, I shall see old Richard before tonight. We’re both lunching at Millicent Bruton’s.
CLARISSA Indeed? Is Evelyn invited to luncheon?
HUGH Good lord, no. It’s business and politics.
CLARISSA How long have you known Millicent, Hugh?
HUGH Longer than I care to remember. Twenty years at least.
CLARISSA I have known her for longer than that, and she still does not invite me to lunch.
HUGH For Millicent, everything is politics and business. That’s the only reason.
CLARISSA Well, actually, it is a relief not to be invited. One is so busy. I have flowers to order.
HUGH Flowers. What a good idea. Perhaps I should take flowers to Millicent. What do you think about carnations?
CLARISSA I have no idea what Millicent likes. Don’t be late tonight, Hugh. I must dash. ‘Bye.(Walking, over.) Dear old Hugh. So shy, like a brother. One would rather die than speak honestly to one’s brother. How old is Evelyn now? About my age? Fifty-two? Ah. It is probably that. Well. Gloves and flowers. Flowers and gloves.
(Street mixes into Regent’s Park. Birds. Children. Traffic in distance.)
SCENE TEN
(Footsteps on Broad Walk.)
PETER (over) What a splendid morning. Like the pulse of a perfect heart. Regent’s Park in the sun: a long, straight walk, going on for ever. London is enchanting. The softness. The distances. The greenness. The civilisation.
Why does my childhood keep coming back to me? A leaf brings it back in an instant. (He sits down. Yawns.)
SCENE ELEVEN
(Park mixes with Big Ben striking the half hour, fading to give way to traffic.)
SEPTIMUS Rezia, you must write down everything.
REZIA I can’t write anything down in the street, my dear.
SEPTIMUS You can, if you want to.
REZIA I’ll write it down when we get home. You know I always do.
(Penny whistle.)
SEPTIMUS Write it on the sky, like the streamers.
REZIA If I was tall enough I would.
SEPTIMUS I like it here. High, on the back of the world. The earth thrills beneath me.
REZIA Shall we look in the shop windows?
SEPTIMUS What’s that music?
REZIA It’s a pipe – a – what do you call it – a penny whistle. Look. Over there, across the road.
SEPTIMUS The music rises in smooth columns. I never knew you could see music.
(Large car drowns the faint penny whistle.)
SCENE TWELVE
(Car mixes into the delicate tinkle of shop bell. Hushed shop. Soft click of heels.)
ASSISTANT Good morning, Madam. May I help you?
CLARISSA Yes. I’d like to see some white gloves. They must come above the elbow.
ASSISTANT Certainly. (Drawer opens.) Would you like to try these, Madam?
CLARISSA These are grey.
ASSISTANT They are actually off-white. Do try them. They should be long enough for you.
CLARISSA Perhaps you are right. (Tissue rustling.) I do like the pearl buttons.
ASSISTANT Madam’s hands are so slender, The gloves will slide easily over the rings. There. What do you think?
CLARISSA Oh, no. They won’t do. The gloves hardly come to my elbows. I need at least another inch.
ASSISTANT Do look at them in the daylight. By the door.
(Footsteps to door.)
CLARISSA How interesting. Perhaps you’re right after all. They might do. Do you remember, before the war, you sold gloves with pearl buttons?
ASSISTANT French gloves, Madam?
CLARISSA I think they were French.
ASSISTANT I’m afraid we don’t stock them any more.
CLARISSA I’ll take this pair, then.
ASSISTANT Thank you, Madam. Shall I wrap them for you?
CLARISSA Yes, please. I’ll collect them later.
(Aeroplane outside the shop. Shop door opens, and aeroplane is louder.)
SCENE THIRTEEN
CLARISSA (out in the street over) An aeroplane, swooping like a dancer. Like a seagull over London. (Walking, beat.) Next, flowers.
(Satie.)
SCENE FOURTEEN
(More vigorous bell, into flower shop.)
CLARISSA (over) Roses, like frilled linen, clean from the laundry. Dark and prim red carnations hold their heads up, next to sweet peas spreading in their bowls, as if it is the evening and girls in muslin frocks have come out on a summer day. The perfume of a moment between six and seven in the evening, when every flower glows. Evening in the garden. Bourton. My lovely Bourton.
CLARISSA (loud) Good morning, Miss Pym.
MISS PYM Good morning, Mrs Dalloway. Isn’t it a lovely day?
CLARISSA It is, indeed.
MISS PYM Your flowers are ready. We can deliver them any time this afternoon..
CLARISSA Thank you. I love the scent in here. You have such variety. Delphiniums, sweet peas, bunches of lilac. What are your favourites?
MISS PYM The sweet peas are especially beautiful at the moment.
CLARISSA So they are. I’ll carry a bunch of sweet peas with me now, if I may.
MISS PYM Certainly, Mrs Dalloway.
(Violent backfiring outside.)
Good heavens. What on earth was that?
(More backfiring.)
MISS PYM Those motor cars are far too loud.
(Commotion outside. Rapid footsteps to the door.)
CLARISSA What’s happened?
MISS PYM Oh, my Lord. Someone is lying on the pavement
(Shop door opens.)
CLARISSA (in the street, running across the road.) Excuse me. Is there anything I can do? Are you hurt, sir?
REZIA (we are with her) I don’t think so, Madam. Septimus – let me help you up.
SEPTIMUS Why has everything stopped?
REZIA You tripped over. That is all.
CLARISSA Are you quite sure you’re alright?
REZIA Yes, yes, we are fine, thank you. My husband was startled by the car.
CLARISSA He’s quite pale.
SEPTIMUS Why is she they looking at me?
REZIA No-one is looking at you, dear. Everyone is looking at the motor car.
CLARISSA Please forgive me for asking – are you Italian?
SEPTIMUS The world has raised its whip. Where will it descend?
REZIA Yes, I am. I’m afraid my accent is not always good.
CLARISSA No, no. It is very good. Would you like these flowers? Perhaps they will cheer your husband. I love sweet peas.
REZIA They are beautiful. I can’t possibly take them.
CLARISSA I can easily buy more. I would like you to have them. Really.
REZIA Thank you. Thank you so much. Mille grazie.
(Car begins to go leave, backfiring a little. A cheer from everyone in the street.)
CLARISSA Do you like living in London?
REZIA Very much.
CLARISSA Have you seen Buckingham Palace? Where the King and Queen live?
REZIA Not yet. I hope my husband will take me one day.
(Aeroplane is passing above the traffic.)
SEPTIMUS Rezia. That aeroplane. It’s Evans flying over us.
REZIA Thank you so much for your help, Madam. Come along, Septimus.
(Traffic and plane mix into Satie.)
SCENE FOURTEEN
(Satie mixes back into plane over park and birds. Small baby crying, being comforted. Aeroplane zooms over.)
PETER (over) An aeroplane, swooping like a dancer. Flying over the countryside, over the sea. Over London
SALLY (over) Don’t forget, Peter. By the red pillar box opposite the British Museum. Three o’clock?
PETER (over) Sally Seton. Clarissa. Bourton. Lunch in the garden. (Yawns.)
SCENE FIFTEEN
(Satie mixes with PETER’s breathing, into Bourton. )
CLARISSA Peter, would you like some more apple pie?
PETER What? Oh. Yes, please.
CLARISSA Then hurry up and finish what you’ve got on your plate. (General amusement.)
RICHARD I say, Clarissa. I want to tell you something.
CLARISSA What is it, Richard?
RICHARD It’s a secret. Come over here.
CLARISSA Alright.
(Whispering and giggles.)
CLARISSA (burst of laughter) Oh, Richard. You are so funny.
SALLY (whispering) Peter, look. Clarissa is blushing.
PETER (close) What is she laughing at?
CLARISSA Peter – may I introduce my new friend, Mr Wickham.
(She and RICHARD burst out laughing again.)
PETER Oh. Do you know, I never knew your surname, Richard. How do you do, Mr Wickham.
CLARISSA He’s not really called Wickham, silly.
PETER But you just said he is.
CLARISSA Don’t you remember? Wickham was the dashing young soldier in ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Jane Austen, you know.
PETER Yes, actually, I do know.
RICHARD I’m no soldier, Clarissa dear. Far from it.
CLARISSA Ah, but you are very dashing, Mr Wickham.
RICHARD I’m not at all dashing. I walk very slowly.
PETER Flattering, though, to be compared to a soldier, don’t you think?
RICHARD I don’t know. Actually, Peter, my name is Dalloway.
(SALLY stifles a giggle.)
CLARISSA Sally Seton. Behave. Richard. From now on I shall call you Wickham Dalloway. Or shall it be Dalloway Wickham?
SALLY No, no. I think it must be ‘My name is Dalloway’. How do you do, my name is Dalloway?
(More laughter. Bourton mixess back into street, aeroplane and traffic.)
SCENE SIXTEEN
(Aeroplane fades, mixing with traffic and Big Ben.)
CLARISSA (over her footsteps) Victoria Street. The leaden circles of Big Ben dissolving in the air. Heaven knows only knows why one loves everything so, making it, building it, tumbling it, creating every moment in other people’s eyes, in the swing, tramp and trudge. In the bellow and the uproar. The carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging; brass bands; barrel organs; the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane over London. This is what I love. I know it must end, but while it is here – I love it all.
(Footsteps fade. Aeroplane mixes with the park.)
SCENE SEVENTEEN
REZIA Look. Septimus. Now there are letters in the sky. No more streamers. Just letters. They’re trailing from the aeroplane.
SEPTIMUS Tell them to stop.
REZIA Let’s sit down. Is this bench taken, sir?
PETER No, no. There’s plenty of room. It’s remarkable, isn’t it? Those letters.
REZIA What do they say? I can’t work it out.
(Aeroplane above.)
PETER T…O… It’s – I think they must be advertising toffee.
REZIA K… R…E…what does that spell?
PETER It’s – Kreemo. That must be the name of the toffee.
SEPTIMUS You mustn’t talk to strangers, Rezia. Your voice has thrown the trees into the air. Now the leaves are burning.
PETER Is the gentleman ill, my dear?
SEPTIMUS I don’t want to go mad.
REZIA My darling, you are not going mad.
SEPTIMUS But the trees are alive.
REZIA Of course they are. Trees and flowers grow. Just like people.
SEPTIMUS The leaves are in my body. Sparrows, fluttering, rising, falling in jagged fountains. I must tell you something, sir. It’s a secret.
PETER I can keep a secret. I’m very discreet.
REZIA (Over.) How much longer can I stand this? He makes everything so terrible. Loving someone is so lonely.
SEPTIMUS Listen. I am thinking of killing myself.
REZIA I do apologise, sir.
PETER There is no need to apologise.
SEPTIMUS I told this nice gentleman that I am going to kill myself. He understands.
REZIA You are not going to kill yourself, Septimus. He fought in the war, you see. You’re not a coward, Septimus. You are brave.
SEPTIMUS Do you think I am mad, sir?
PETER Certainly not. You seem to be – preoccupied. Thinking about things, that’s all.
SEPTIMUS There. This gentleman does not think I am mad. There is a God. No one kills from hatred. But – he is still there.
PETER Indeed. God is always there.
SEPTIMUS I mean that sparrow. It’s calling my name. Septimus, Septimus. It’s singing in Greek.
REZIA It could be singing in English, or even Italian.
PETER Are you from Italy?
REZIA Yes. I am from Milan.
PETER How interesting. Actually, I’ve just returned from India.
REZIA Oh? Do you live there?
PETER I’ve been there for the past five years. My family is Anglo-Indian. They’ve always been in colonial administration. So I simply followed in their footsteps. Which is a little odd, since I rather dislike empire and the army and all that.
SEPTIMUS I don’t think Evans has ever been to India.
PETER Who is Evans? Is he a friend of yours?
REZIA Sir, I should explain. He is not my Septimus any more. He says hard, cruel, strange things. He talks to a dead man.
PETER Is that – Evans?
SEPTIMUS Yes. Evans is a great friend.
REZIA He was a great friend to Septimus. You were very lucky to have such a friend.
SEPTIMUS Were?
REZIA He was killed, my darling. In the war. Remember?
PETER I had friends who were killed in the war.
SEPTIMUS But Evans is still there. I can see him. Behind those railings.
PETER I’ve always loved Regent’s Park. Do you like coming here?
REZIA Very much. It is peaceful.
PETER Have you visited Hampton Court? The flowers there are wonderful; red and yellow, like floating lamps. At least, that’s how I remember it. It may not be the same now. After all, London is different now in some ways.
REZIA How?
PETER People look – more content, somehow. Freer. I can’t explain it properly.
SEPTIMUS (getting up and walking off) It’s time to go, Rezia.
REZIA Septimus – where are you going?
SEPTIMUS Evans, you are being stupid. Don’t worry, Rezia. I am perfectly rational. People are wicked. They make up lies. I know how their minds work. I know the meaning of the world.
REZIA Thank you for talking to us, Mr – ?
PETER Walsh. Peter Walsh.
REZIA I am Lucrezia. My husband is Septimus Warren-Smith.
PETER Well, goodbye. Best of luck to you both.
SEPTIMUS Goodbye, Evans.
REZIA Wait for me, Septimus.
SCENE EIGHTEEN
(Park mixes into busy street. Front door opens. Men banging, moving doors. A racket of preparation.)
CLARISSA Lucy. Lucy.
LUCY (running upstairs from kitchen )They’ve nearly finished, Mrs Dalloway. Careful. (Sharper.) Please watch what you’re doing with them doors. Sorry, Madam.
(Front door closes. We are in the hall. Sound of men retreats.)
CLARISSA Is everything alright?
LUCY Oh, yes, Madam. Sorry I had to raise me voice to the men. It’s the only way to get them to take notice.
CLARISSA That’s quite understandable. Has anyone telephoned?
LUCY Yes, Madam. There is a message for you.
CLARISSA Thank you. Would you take these gloves upstairs? And put the sweet peas in water. I’ll have them in my bedroom. The rest of the flowers will be delivered later.
LUCY Very well, Madam. We’ve cleaned all the silver for the party. The giant candlesticks came up a treat.
CLARISSA Thank you, Lucy. (Footsteps up stairs. Over.) The hall is so cool. I’m a nun who has left the world and feels the familiar veils of her sanctuary fold round her. (Piece of paper.) Well, well, well.
SALLY (over) My dear Clarissa. I am so looking forward to your party this evening.
CLARISSA (over) Sally Seton. A moment like this is a bud on the tree of life. Darling, lovely Sally Seton. (Loud.) Oh, good heavens. (Calls.) Lucy, someone has left the landing window open.
LUCY (from downstairs) I’m sorry, Madam. I’ll come up and close it.
(Footsteps running up. Sash window bangs closed.)
LUCY Have you decided what to wear tonight, Madam?
CLARISSA Come and help me choose.
(Bedroom door closes. House noise has gone.)
LUCY It’s hard to think the house will be full of people in no time. They’ll all talk like this: oh, how de do and where you bin of recent times?
CLARISSA That’s rather good, Lucy. You have quite a gift.
LUCY I know, Madam. Ladies and gentlemen, I can imitate them all.
(Cupboard open, rustling of silk and taffeta and satin.)
CLARISSA Now then.
LUCY Oh, Madam. How can you possibly choose between them?
CLARISSA I shall wear – (dresses shifted on rail ) – how about this one?
LUCY Perfect.
CLARISSA Good. Could you iron it?
LUCY Certainly.
CLARISSA Thank you. By the way, have you found Elizabeth’s jacket?
LUCY Yes. It’s hanging in her room.
CLARISSA I wore this dress at Hatfield. And at Buckingham Palace
LUCY Oh, dear. The hem is torn. Look. On one side.
CLARISSA Torn? Where? Let me see. Oh, yes.
LUCY How could that have happened?
CLARISSA Someone must have trodden on it at the Embassy party last month. I didn’t notice anything.
LUCY Shall I mend it, Madam?
CLARISSA No, no. You have far too much to do. I’ll mend it myself. Take my silks, scissors and thimble into the drawing room.
LUCY You will look like a queen, Mrs Dalloway.
CLARISSA Thank you, Lucy. How would you like to be Princess Mary?
LUCY What? Oh. Beg pardon, Madam, I didn’t mean to make fun of the ladies and gentlemen.
CLARISSA Imagine that you are Princess Mary. You arrive at my party. You sail through the front door, into the drawing room. You are surrounded by flowers.
LUCY Alright then. (Door opens.) Like this?
CLARISSA Bravo. Just like that.
LUCY No-one would ever know I first seen service in a baker’s shop, in Caterham.
CLARISSA Lucy, please. Princess Mary doesn’t speak like that.
LUCY Yes. Sorry, Madam. Shall I do the voice an’ all?
CLARISSA Well, why not? And how did you enjoy the play last night, Princess Mary?
(Door closes.)
LUCY I’m afraid we had to leave before ten.
CLARISSA So you don’t know how the play ended?
LUCY No. We missed the – what do you call the end in smart words?
CLARISSA The denouement.
LUCY Yes. The denurement. We missed that, because we left too soon.
CLARISSA What a frightful shame.
LUCY Oh, offally bad luck, yes. Oh, Mrs Dalloway, I do like being a Princess.
(Huge bang downstairs.)
CLARISSA What on earth is that?
LUCY I’ll go down and see what’s happened.
(Footsteps hurrying downstairs mix into quiet smart street.)
SCENE NINETEEN
(Ring at front door bell. Door opens.)
RECEPTIONIST May I help you?
REZIA Mr Septimus Warren Smith to see Dr Holmes, please.
RECEPTIONIST Certainly. Do come in. Please take a seat in the waiting room. First door on the right.
REZIA Thank you.
(Door closes.)
SCENE TWENTY
(Door closing above mixes into CLARISSA’s drawing room. Rustle of taffeta. Scissors cuts silk. Sewing.)
CLARISSA (over) Green silk folds. The needle draws the silk smoothly to a gentle pause. Fear no more, says the heart, as a summer’s day’s waves collect, overbalance and fall. The body listens to the wave breaking.
(Front door bell. Knock, and drawing room door opens.)
LUCY (tentative) Mrs Dalloway – you have a visitor – will you see him?
PETER (behind her) It’s alright, my dear. Clarissa. May I come in?
CLARISSA What? Peter Walsh. Good heavens. Thank you, Lucy.
(Door closes.)
What a surprise.
PETER I wrote to you. I said I was coming back. Did you get my letter?
CLARISSA Oh, yes. You didn’t say exactly when you were arriving.
PETER Didn’t I? (Kiss.)
CLARISSA Never mind. It’s delightful to see you. You’re looking awfully well.
PETER So do you, Clarissa.
CLARISSA Nonsense. I’ve lost weight.
PETER Well, it suits you.
CLARISSA Thank you. When did you get back?
PETER I landed last night. What are you doing with that green, shiny thing?
CLARISSA This green shiny thing, as you put it, is my dress for tonight. (Rustle of dress.) I’ve nearly finished mending it.
(Beat.)
PETER How is the admirable Richard?
CLARISSA The very admirable Richard is very well.
PETER Does he approve of the hall being demolished?
CLARISSA It’s not being demolished. You exaggerate, as usual, Peter. The hall has been cleared for my party tonight. You are coming, aren’t you?
PETER I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I gather Sally Seton will be there. I had a note from her, at my hotel.
CLARISSA You mean, of course, Lady Rosseter. Now living in an enormous mansion in Manchester. What brings you back to London, Peter?
PETER I’ve come to see solicitors. Messrs Hooper and Grately. Lincoln’s Inn. Do you know them?
CLARISSA No. Why are you seeing them?
PETER Clarissa. I have a million things to tell you. The most important is that I am in love, with a girl in India. A married woman, unfortunately. The wife of a major in the Indian army. She has two small children. A boy and a girl. (Fishes in his pocket.) The photograph doesn’t really do Daisy justice. I’ve come over to see my lawyers about the divorce.
CLARISSA The children look lovely. But the wife of an army Major? Really, Peter. Isn’t that a little foolish?
PETER Of course it’s foolish. I know what I’m up against. (He bursts into tears,)
CLARISSA Peter. Peter my dear. Come here. (Close, kiss.)
(Satie softly in background.)
PETER It is so good to hold you again. Sometimes I wish you had married me instead of Richard. But then, we would have argued all the time, wouldn’t we?
CLARISSA Yes. And then made up and held hands again. Oh, well. All that is over for me now. I am a pale woman, up in a tower, leaving real lovers blackberrying in the sun.
PETER Daisy looks so ordinary beside you, Clarissa. Do you remember how you made the moon rise, on the terrace at Bourton?
CLARISSA I didn’t make the moon rise. Anyway, you hated the moon! You preferred darkness and shadows, and talking about the death of the soul. Whenever I think of you, I think mostly of our quarrels. Now why is that?
PETER Attraction, I should think.
CLARISSA I really did want your good opinion so much. You taught me the meaning of two very important words. Sentimental and civilised. Perhaps I am being sentimental, thinking of the past?
PETER I don’t know whether it’s sentimental, thinking of the past. I certainly remember that last awful summer at Bourton.
CLARISSA Yes. Do you remember the lake? We used to throw bread to the ducks. I suppose that’s not enough for a marriage. ow is everything? How is everybody? How is Richard? Elizabeth?
PETER Well, you married your Richard. My life has been a failure.
CLARISSA Nonsense. Tell me about India. Adventures. Bridge parties. Love affairs.
PETER Not much of any of those. It’s been mainly work. I invented a plough in my district, and ordered wheelbarrows from England. The men refused to use them, because they were unfamiliar. That was a failure too. Are you happy, Clarissa?
(Satie mixes into consulting rooms.)
SCENE TWENTY-ONE
(Consulting rooms.)
HOLMES Now then, Mr Warren Smith. How are you today?
SEPTIMUS Very well, thank you, except that my wife has taken off her wedding ring. She’s lost it.
REZIA My hand has grown quite thin. The ring was slipping off. So I put it in my bag. Look, Septimus. It’s here. I haven’t lost it.
SEPTIMUS My wife has thrown away her wedding ring. My wife has left me.
HOLMES No, no. She has the ring. She’s taken it off for safekeeping.
SEPTIMUS I, Septimus, the lord of men, am free to talk to you, Dr Holmes. I am called forth to hear the truth, to learn the meaning of all the toils of civilisation, Romans, Shakespeare, Darwin.
HOLMES You are a philosopher, Mr Warren-Smith.
SEPTIMUS The truth must be given.
HOLMES To whom is the truth to be given?
SEPTIMUS To you. To the Prime Minister. To anyone who will listen.
HOLMES What exactly will you tell the Prime Minister, Mr Warren-Smith?
SEPTIMUS I will tell him that the trees are alive, and that there is no crime. There is only love, universal love. I will tell him that I have seen a dog turn into a man. It was horrible.
HOLMES Was the dog standing on its hind legs?
SEPTIMUS I don’t remember. But then it trotted away. It was only snuffling my trousers.
HOLMES Good, good.
(Satie softly in background.)
SEPTIMUS I know that heaven is divinely merciful, infinitely benign. It spares me and pardons my weakness. But what, doctor, is the scientific explanation for the fact that I can see through bodies, see into the future, and notice when dogs become men?
HOLMES It may be the heat wave, sir. And you must remember that you have been through a very difficult, traumatic experience. The war has affected so many people this way.
REZIA My husband isn’t sleeping.
SEPTIMUS The trouble is that when I sleep, I dream.
REZIA He has headaches. He is full of fears.
HOLMES These are only nervous symptoms. Nothing more.
SEPTIMUS I suppose you are saying that, scientifically speaking, the flesh has melted off the world.
HOLMES It may feel like that now. But it will heal. You will heal. I am quite certain of it.
SEPTIMUS So I am all nerve fibres, spread like a veil upon a rock. Well, you know, that makes me feel a lot better. I am lying high, on the back of the world. The earth thrills beneath me. Red flowers grow through my body. I can hear their leaves rustling.
REZIA I don’t understand why he says these things. What am I to do, Dr Holmes?
HOLMES Well, if my spirits are a little low, I ask my wife for another plate of porridge at breakfast. Do you cook porridge, Mrs Warren Smith?
REZIA No. But I can learn.
HOLMES Health is largely a matter in our own control. Your husband should take up a hobby.
REZIA He used to love Shakespeare. Didn’t you, Septimus?
HOLMES No, no. Shakespeare is not the cure for someone who is out of sorts. I work as hard as any man in London, and I owe my health to the fact that I can always switch off from my patients onto old furniture. There is nothing the matter with him, you know. Nothing really, seriously the matter.
(Motor horn outside.)
SEPTIMUS I can see music clanging against the rocks.
REZIA It is only a motor horn in the street.
SEPTIMUS I know.
HOLMES Perhaps you could think about writing poetry. Or a novel, perhaps.
SEPTIMUS I know.
HOLMES You see, Mrs Warren-Smith? There is nothing wrong with him really. He is quite a special man. I know it must be very worrying for you. Sometimes, Mr Warren-Smith, you must not hurry so much. Wait for your wife to catch up with you.
SEPTIMUS I leaned over the edge of the boat and fell down. I went under the sea. I have been dead, and now I am alive, a drowned sailor on a rock. I am still high on my rock. I am so terribly tired, and yet I’m still drawn to the shores of life, the sun growing hotter.
HOLMES You should get down from the rock, sir. The sun may be too hot.
SEPTIMUS Yes, yes, You are right. I should get down.
HOLMES Come to the window. What do you see?
SEPTIMUS Long streamers of sunlight. Birds swooping and swerving. Always with perfect control, as if held by elastic. Flies rising and falling.
HOLMES That is wonderful. It is poetry. You should concentrate on everyday, ordinary things now. The war is over.
SEPTIMUS The dead are still waiting.
REZIA He makes me so unhappy, Dr Holmes. I don’t know what to do.
SEPTIMUS You fear the death of the soul, Rezia. Fear no more the heat o’ the sun. That’s Shakespeare.
HOLMES Go to a music hall. Play cricket. A nice out of doors game.
REZIA You like cricket, don’t you, Septimus?
SEPTIMUS Evans liked cricket. He was killed in Italy, just before the Armistice. It was remarkable. At the time, when it happened, I felt very little. I was proud of feeling very little.
REZIA And yet it was the end of an important friendship.
SEPTIMUS The war taught me everything, you see. It was sublime. I went through the whole show. Friendship. Death. Promotion. I was charmed. The shells missed me. I watched them explode with indifference.
HOLMES What happened after the war?
SEPTIMUS I was in Milan. I was billeted in the house of an innkeeper.
REZIA My father.
SEPTIMUS There was a courtyard. Flowers in tubs. Daughters making hats. Lucrezia was making a hat.
HOLMES I will say it again. There really is nothing seriously wrong with you, Mr Warren Smith.
REZIA Please listen to Dr Holmes, Septimus.
HOLMES I suggest you try two tabloids of bromide dissolved in a glass of water at bedtime.
SEPTIMUS I didn’t care when Evans was killed. That is the worst crime. I have committed a sin for which human nature has condemned me to death. But then all the other crimes raise their heads and sneer at me as I lie in bed. I married my wife without loving her.
REZIA Septimus, that isn’t true.
SEPTIMUS What if I still want to kill myself?
REZIA Dr Holmes – should we see another doctor – get a second opinion?
HOLMES If you are rich people, then by all means go to Harley Street. I can give you a letter, if you like. Well, thank you both for coming to see me, Mr and Mrs Warren Smith. I’ll drop in to visit you. See how you’re getting on. Goodbye, now.
SCENE TWENTY-TWO
(CLARISSA’s drawing room.)
PETER Seriously, Clarissa. Are you happy?
CLARISSA Of course I am. You shall see when you come to my party tonight.
PETER I suppose you spend all your time giving and running to parties. You know, there is nothing in the world so bad for some women as marriage, and politics. And having a Conservative husband like Richard.
CLARISSA Why is it that you always made me feel frivolous? Empty minded. A mere silly chatterbox. Why is that, Peter?
(Door bursts open.)
ELIZABETH Mother – you will never guess – oh. Excuse me. I didn’t know you had a visitor.
CLARISSA Elizabeth, my darling. Do you remember Peter Walsh?
ELIZABETH Why, of course I do. Hello. How are you?
PETER Hullo, Elizabeth. Good to see you again.
ELIZABETH Mother, Lucy has found my green jacket.
CLARISSA I knew she would.
(Big Ben strikes the half hour.)
PETER Clarissa, I must go. I’m sure you’re frightfully busy.
CLARISSA Would you like to stay to lunch? I’m afraid Richard has another engagement.
PETER No, thank you.
CLARISSA Then we’ll look forward to seeing you tonight.
(Door closes.)
ELIZABETH What a strange man. Why does he looks so sad? What on earth did you say to him?
CLARISSA Nothing, my dear. That is Peter Walsh all over. Everything is the matter with him. (Yawns.) I shall rest for a little while after lunch.
(Satie mixes into street, and one set of footsteps.)
SCENE TWENTY-THREE
PETER (over) Dear Clarissa. A great brush smooths my mind, sweeping away children’s voices, the shuffle of feet and people passing, the hum and rise and fall of the traffic. I have seen Clarissa again. India is behind me now.
(Satie continues, mixing into…)
SCENE TWENTY-FOUR
(Street, outside MILLICENT’s house.)
HUGH (calling) Richard. I say, Richard.
RICHARD Hugh. Good to see you, old chap. Nice flowers. What are they?
HUGH Carnations, I’m told. Can’t tell one flower from another. I hope Millicent likes them.
RICHARD Shall we?
(Doorbell rings. Front door opens almost immediately.)
MISS BRUSH Mr Whitbread. And Mr Dalloway. Do come in. Lady Bruton is expecting you.
HUGH The estimable Miss Brush. How are you?
MISS BRUSH Very well, Mr Whitbread. Lovely carnations. I’ll put them in water. Do come in.
(Front door closes.)
MISS BRUSH May I take your coats?
RICHARD Thank you.
(Coats divested, etc.)
How is your brother, Miss Brush? South Africa, isn’t it?
MISS BRUSH Thank you. He’s doing very well. Lady Bruton is in the drawing room.
(Drawing room door opens, and overlaps with CLARISSA’s bedroom door closing.)
SCENE TWENTY-FIVE
CLARISSA (putting jewellery on dressing table. Over) Peter Walsh. A little older. A little thinner. But still – Peter. (Lies down. Sighs.)This question of love and marriage. Are they the same? What were we all doing, at Bourton?
(CLARISSA yawns, turns over; the bed creaks, mixing into a lively party at Bourton. Jazz.)
PETER Clarissa darling. Come and dance with me.
CLARISSA Love to, Peter. (Music up, as they dance.) I say. Who is that girl? Over there, in the corner.
PETER That, my dear, is Sally Seton.
CLARISSA I do admire that kind of beauty, Peter. Dark, large-eyed – she’s everything I am not.
PETER She’s rather strange. Her parents don’t get on at all.
CLARISSA Really? How very shocking. That one’s parents should quarrel. Do introduce me. She looks most unEnglish.
(Music fades back.)
PETER Sally – I say, Sally. Come and meet Clarissa. She says you look unEnglish.
SALLY But how clever! I do have French blood in my veins.
CLARISSA Just a lucky guess.
SALLY One of my ancestors knew Marie Antoinette. He had his head cut off.
CLARISSA How gruesome.
SALLY Not at all. Quite glamorous, actually. He left a ruby ring. It’s somewhere in the family. Or pawned. I don’t know.
CLARISSA I’d love to know more.
SALLY Come to my room tonight. I’ll tell you the whole story.
(Party mixes into LADY BRUTON’s dining room.)
SCENE TWENTY-SIX
LADY B Lovely carnations. Delighted you could get up to town, Hugh.
HUGH Well, Evelyn, you know.
LADY B Indeed, yes.
(General movement across the parquet flooring.)
Miss Brush will be joining us for luncheon. Marvellous
secretary, though otherwise deficient in every attribute of female charm. I need you both to help me write a letter.
(Door open. Rustle of maids and dishes.)
We’ll eat first.
(Smart luncheon sounds mix into Lyons Corner House.)
SCENE TWENTY-SEVEN
(Lyons Corner House.)
REZIA I’m starving. Let’s have egg and chips.
SEPTIMUS What a good idea.
REZIA I really think things are going to be alright. We’ll still keep our appointment with Sir William Bradshaw this afternoon. Between the two doctors, they will cure you completely.
SEPTIMUS I am the happiest man in the whole world, Rezia. I have been taken from death to life. And then, at any moment, I might be the most miserable.
REZIA Not today.
WAITRESS Can I take your order now?
REZIA We’ll have scrambled eggs on toast, some chips and a big pot of tea.
WAITRESS Thank you, Madam.
REZIA How old were you when you first came to London, Septimus?
SEPTIMUS Quite young, I think. I left home because my mother shouted at me when I came down to tea without washing my hands. There was no future for a poet in Stroud. I gave my sister a note for my mother, and got on the train. One day someone will read that note and remember how the great man lived.
REZIA That was very brave.
SEPTIMUS I rented a room not far from here, off the Euston Road. I went to classes in the evening. I wanted to improve myself. Miss Isabel Pole lectured in the Waterloo Road upon Shakespeare. I fell in love with Miss Isabel Pole. She lent me a copy of Antony and Cleopatra.
REZIA Why haven’t you told me this before?
SEPTIMUS I don’t know. Miss Pole lit in me a fire such as burns only once in a lifetime. Without heat. A red gold flame, infinitely ethereal and insubstantial. I wrote poems to her.
REZIA How wonderful.
SEPTIMUS And when I can stop them all talking to me, I will write poems to you too, my darling Lucrezia.
REZIA You did once write me a poem, Septimus.
SEPTIMUS Did I?
REZUA Yes. But you tore it up before you read it to me.
SEPTIMUS I sent Miss Pole my poems, and she corrected them in red ink.
REZIA I wouldn’t correct your poems.
SEPTIMUS One evening I saw her walking, in a green dress, with a man in a square. I wrote three poems to her that night, and tore them all up in the morning. I walked the streets and went into churches, and fasted all the next day. I read Shakespeare, Darwin, and Bernard Shaw. When war broke out, I was one of the first to volunteer.
REZIA Because you cared about your country.
SEPTIMUS No. I went to France to save an England which consisted almost entirely of Shakespeare’s plays and Miss Isabel Pole in a green dress walking in a square.
WAITRESS Here we are. (Dishes down.)
REZIA and SEPTIMUS Thank you.
(They begin to eat. Tea poured.)
SEPTIMUS In the trenches, I developed manliness. I drew the attention and affection of myofficer, Evans.
REZIA Yes.
SEPTIMUS We were like two dogs on a hearthrug. Playing, jumping, the younger dog snapping at the older dog’s ear. The older dog lying somnolent, blinking at the fire, raising a paw, turning and growling good-temperedly. We were together. We had to be together. We fought with each other. We quarrelled with each other.
REZIA That is a poem in itself.
SEPTIMUS And then. Lucrezia.
REZIA Yes?
SEPTIMUS I can’t feel anything, Rezia.
REZIA And then the war was over.
SEPTIMUS Yes. The dreadful war was over. The truce was signed. One day, one day in Italy – I came into the room where you were working, making hats. In an innkeeper’s house. Your father’s house.
REZIA We saw you. All the sisters. We giggled. You were so handsome.
SEPTMUS You were turning buckram shapes this way and that. Threading coloured beads on wires. You had saucers full of coloured beads.
REZIA Feathers, spangles, silks, ribbons.
SEPTIMUS Scissors rapped on the table. Girls laughed.
REZIA I miss my family. I miss Milan.
SEPTIMUS Scissors, lamplight, you, smiling, your little artist’s fingers. Silk feathers. All alive in your hands. Rezia, Lucrezia, will you marry me?
REZIA Oh, Septimus. It is such a silly dream, being unhappy. We will have children. We shall go to the tower of London. To the Victoria and Albert Museum and Hampton Court. We shall read Shakespeare together.
SEPTIMUS And Dante. And Aeschylus. I do love you, Lucrezia.
(Lyons Corner House mixes into LADY BRUTON’s dining room.)
SCENE TWENTY-EIGHT
(Pouring and chinks of sugar stirring with silver spoons.)
RICHARD That was a delicious lunch, Lady Bruton.
LADY B Thank you. And how is dear Clarissa?
RICHARD Very well indeed.
LADY B Quite recovered from her illness?
RICHARD Oh, yes.
LADY B Good. Miss Brush – have you got your notebook?
MISS BRUSH Of course, Lady Bruton.
LADY B You may already know something of my new project. (Polite, inquiring murmurs.) It is a project for respectable young people of both sexes to emigrate and settle with the prospect of doing well in Canada.
RICHARD Do you really think this is the best solution to our employment problem? I am not certain that emigration is the obvious remedy.
LADY B I have given it a great deal of consideration. For me, it is a cause worth pursuing, and I have become closely identified with it. I am convinced it is right.
(Polite murmurs of acknowledgement.)
I have begun a letter to The Times newspaper countless times. I have torn it up and begun again and torn it up again. Miss Brush will vouch for that. (MISS BRUSH murmurs modest agreement.) Hugh, you possess, no one can doubt it – the art of writing letters to the Times.
HUGH You flatter me, Lady Bruton.
LADY B You have such a command of language. You can put things as editors like them to be put. If you, Richard, advise me, and Hugh writes for me, I am sure of getting it right. I already have a selection of choice phrases use – such ‘we are of the opinion that the times are ripe’. Something about ‘the superfluous youth of our ever-increasing population’. A phrase about ‘what we owe to the dead’. That sort of thing.
RICHARD Yes, yes. All worthy of consideration.
LADY BRUTON Miss Brush?
MISS BRUSH Here, Lady Bruton.
LADY BRUTON These are my notes and drafts. I am in your hands.
HUGH I shall be honoured to help, Lady Bruton. I can let you have something tomorrow.
LADY B You will come up with a masterpiece, I am sure. I don’t know what I should do without you both. You must excuse me now.
HUGH Of course. Goodbye, Lady Bruton.
(Chairs scrape.)
SCENE TWENTY-NINE
(Satie mixes into CLARISSA’s bedroom. Soft breathing, mixing into SALLY’s Bourton bedroom.)
SALLY I have the most unreliable family in the world, you know.
CLARISSA I think it is hugely exciting. Mine is so dull. So ordinary.
SALLY So reassuring. (Beat.) Actually, I’ve run away from home.
CLARISSA How romantic!
SALLY Not really. I haven’t a penny.
CLARISSA What happened?
SALLY There was the most awful quarrel at home. I couldn’t bear it any more. Can I stay here?
CLARISSA Of course you can. We’ve plenty of room. You can sleep in my room.
SALLY It’s frightfully rude of me.
CLARISSA It’s a pleasure to have you here. You’re great fun, you know.
SALLY I had to pawn a pearl brooch to come down. I rushed off in such a passion. Oh, I nearly forgot. I brought you a book. It’s William Morris. I love William Morris. I mean to found a society to abolish private property. Will you join?
CLARISSA I don’t know. What’s it for?
SALLY To reform the world. Have you read Plato? I can read him all day. Clarissa, you are so kind. Come here.
(A soft kiss.)
CLARISSA Oh, Sally, my dear.
SALLY Thank you, Clarissa. For everything.
(Bedroom and soft breathing comes up.)
CLARISSA (waking, over) A soft kiss. Full on the lips. Sally Seton. A match burning in a crocus. It was the most exquisite moment of my whole life. The whole world turned upside down. I was given a present. Not something to look at it, like a diamond, but something infinitely more precious. An inner meaning almost expressed. Was I in love with Sally? Am I still in love with Sally? Perhaps I felt what men feel.
(Big Ben, beginning to strike the half hour.)
It is over. It was just a moment. Everything must end.
Everything must die.
(Big Ben and bedroom mix into street.)
SCENE THIRTY
(RICHARD and HUGH’s footsteps. Footsteps stop.)
HUGH I say, Richard. Evelyn might like that Spanish necklace. Shall we go in?
RICHARD What a good idea. I could buy something for Clarissa.
HUGH Is it Clarissa’s birthday?
RICHARD No, no. I never give Clarissa presents, except a bracelet last year. She never wears it.
(Shop door bell.)
DUBONNET Good day, Mr Whitbread.
HUGH Good day. You have a Spanish necklace in the window. May I see it?
DUBONNET Certainly, sir.
RICHARD I would like to see some brooches. Perhaps with a stone or two?
DUBONNET Certainly, sir. I’ll bring you a selection. Excuse me.
HUGH Always a good thing, jewellery. Oh, Lord. We have to write that letter for Millicent by tomorrow.
RICHARD Frankly, I don’t care a straw what becomes of emigration.
HUGH No. But one must keep in with Millicent. She is very influential.
RICHARD Indeed.
HUGH How is your Elizabeth these days, Richard?
RICHARD If I had had a boy, I would have said work, work. But I adore Elizabeth. I don’t mind what she does with her life. By the way, did you know that Peter Walsh has come back from India?
HUGH Odd. He can’t have been a success there. Otherwise why come back? Wasn’t he rather sweet on Clarissa?
RICHARD Yes. Such a bore.
DUBONNET Here we are, gentlemen.
(Trays on glass table. Gems.)
RICHARD Oh, this is impossible. Hugh. Help me decide.
HUGH I haven’t a clue, my dear chap.
DUBONNET This one is tasteful, sir. The brooch has a rather fine single ruby. It can be worn with anything.
HUGH After thirty-five years, you can trust Mr Dubonnet’s judgement.
DUBONNET (clears throat) And for Mrs Whitbread. Simplicity is best, I always think. (Jingle of silver necklace.)
RICHARD Thank you so much.
DUBONNET Excuse me, gentlemen.
(Wrapping paper in the background.)
HUGH How do you think Clarissa will take it – seeing Peter Walsh again?
RICHARD No idea, old chap. We’ve not spoken of him until this morning. Probably a mistake. After not speaking and not speaking, the time comes when it is hard to say anything at all.
HUGH Buy her a bunch of roses, old chap. Jewellery and roses. That’s what women really like.
RICHARD Good idea. Thank you, Hugh.
(Satie. Street. Footsteps.)
SCENE THIRTY-ONE
RICHARD (over) I must admit that I was terribly jealous of Peter Walsh and Clarissa. It’s a miracle, thinking of the war and thousands of poor chaps, already half forgotten. It’s a miracle that I was lucky enough to marry Clarissa. Perhaps I don’t tell her enough that I love her.
Partly one’s lazy. Partly one’s just shy. I shall buy Clarissa some flowers and tell her that I love her.
(Over.)
The wind is getting up. In Norfolk a soft, warm wind blows back the petals. Confuses the waters. Ruffles the grasses. Haymakers have pitched beneath hedges to sleep away the morning toil. They move globes of cow parsley to see the blue, steadfast, blazing summer sky. I wish I were in Norfolk now.
I will go home and tell Clarissa that I love her.
(Satie, and closing Announcements.)
END OF EPISODE ONE.
♦
Michelene Wandor: Dramatising Mrs Dalloway.
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