Collected Novels and Plays (70 page)
Read Collected Novels and Plays Online
Authors: James Merrill
(
He scatters the destroyed photograph.
)
Forgive me. If I talk as I have, senselessly, you must understand that I had glimpsed in your face something, a darkness, a mortality. Olga Vassilyevna, whoever you are, break the spell!
(
Softly.
)
Oh, in my heart I feel you have already done so! Have you already done so? I dare not look. Am I free? Will it end?
(
He turns. OLGA has risen and stands swaying, one handover her eyes.
)
You
are
ill! Good God!
OLGA:
Yes, I am ill. The doctors say I am dying. I want so much not to.
(
Too late, TITHONUS makes a move towards her.
)
Stay where you are. It will pass.
(
She goes out.
)
TITHONUS (
spent and bewildered, mechanically tastes his tea).
Cold … disgusting …
(
He puts down his glass, crosses to the easel and begins to dismount it. Enter FANYA and KONSTANTIN, dreamily oblivious of him.
)
FANYA:
But shan’t we perhaps one day go to Sorrento?
KONSTANTIN:
No.
FANYA:
To China? To California?
KONSTANTIN:
Never.
FANYA (
scattering leaves
):
Not even if I should wish it?
KONSTANTIN:
There will be no need to travel. My heart is so full. Fanya! All of life will be wherever we are!
FANYA:
But Italy won’t.
KONSTANTIN:
So much bad painting!
FANYA:
Not even when we’re rich?
KONSTANTIN:
We shall never be richer than we are now.
FANYA:
My dearest …. Look at the village! How short the days are now ….
KONSTANTIN (
suddenly
):
Fanya, do you see?
FANYA:
What?
KONSTANTIN (
pointing
):
A woman—down there! It’s not the path we came by …. No, right below us!
FANYA:
Oh! Isn’t she wonderfully pretty! I’ve never seen such hair—and her clothes! Who could she be?
(
Half-serious.
)
On second thought, Kostya, I don’t think it’s at all nice of you to look. She’s
too
pretty!
(
TITHONUS looks down, rises, waves his hand.
)
KONSTANTIN:
She sees us, look! she’s smiling! She’s waving her hand!
FANYA:
Do you
know
her?
(
OLGA enters. KONSTANTIN waves to the approaching figure.
)
Kostya!
KONSTANTIN:
It’s so silly of you to be jealous. Look, she’s out of sight.
FANYA:
Who
is
she? You waved to her!
TITHONUS:
You have just seen my wife, who has charmingly taken it upon herself to join us here.
FANYA (
turning
):
Oh, it’s our friend! We keep not seeing you!
KONSTANTIN:
Your wife, truly?
TITHONUS:
Why should you notice an old man? Yes, Sir, my wife.
OLGA:
Children, our excursion is over, come!
KONSTANTIN:
But we mustn’t leave now!
OLGA:
Indeed we must. The carriage will be waiting. Put those things in the basket.
FANYA:
Olga Vassilyevna, what is wrong?
OLGA:
Nothing, I assure you.
(
To TITHONUS.
)
What devotion to come this distance on foot, in her condition! One sees that you are a good husband, a happy man …. Hurry, Fanya!
(
To KONSTANTIN.
)
Help her, why don’t you?
(
To TITHONUS.
)
You’re pouting, aren’t you?—because I would not receive your confidences. Well, I forgive you.
TITHONUS:
To forgive is to forget.
OLGA:
As you wish. I don’t forgive you, then.
TITHONUS:
Nor I you.
(
Offering the serpent ring.
)
But would you accept, as a remembrance, this?
OLGA:
How could I rob you of your only—I meant to say, your most unusual treasure?
TITHONUS:
One likes to offer something with associations.
OLGA:
Then keep it. I don’t doubt there’s a story behind it.
(
Turning.
)
Are we ready, Fanya?
FANYA:
Nearly.
KONSTANTIN:
I don’t see that we have to hurry away.
AURORA (
offstage, calling
):
Where are you, darling?
FANYA (
closing the basket
):
There!
TITHONUS (
calling
):
This way!
(
To OLGA.
)
I should be most happy to present you to my wife.
OLGA:
Pray, make her our excuses.
(
To FANYA.
)
Lead the way down the mountainside,
chérie.
FANYA:
I think we have everything ….
(
To TITHONUS, sweetly.
)
Perhaps we’ll meet again. Mamma lets me have
my
friends to tea on Tuesdays. If you’re staying nearby—
OLGA (
warningly
):
Fanya!
FANYA (
to OLGA
):
Oh, shouldn’t I have …? I’m sorry.
(
Giving TITHONUS her hand.
)
Goodbye.
(
To KONSTANTIN.
)
Don’t leave the basket, Kostya!
(
She goes out, carrying the rug.
)
KONSTANTIN:
Olga Vassilyevna, I suspect you of a discourtesy!
OLGA:
How they talk, these young people! Take care of your own manners, Konstantin, and offer a sick old woman your arm. I must have the eyes of a cat, I can see nothing in this light.
(
She gives TITHONUS her hand. He kisses it.
)
Au revoir, Monsieur.
(
Turning.
)
Now where is Fanya, gone on ahead? Well, we shall have many things to tell the others, safe in the parlor, tonight ….
(
OLGA and KONSTANTIN go, leaving the basket.
)
AURORA (
offstage, closer
):
Tithonus!
TITHONUS:
I’m here! Are you all right?
AURORA:
Of course! I just wanted to see you!
TITHONUS:
I’ll pack my paints and join you down there!
AURORA:
Stay where you are! I’m not a bit out of breath!
TITHONUS:
You shouldn’t be climbing about!
AURORA:
What?
TITHONUS:
Nothing!
AURORA:
Who are you with?
TITHONUS:
Nobody!
AURORA:
I saw them!
TITHONUS:
I don’t know who they were! They’ve gone, anyhow!
AURORA (
very close
):
Why? They were charming! They waved to me!
KONSTANTIN (
re-entering
):
I left the basket after all. I hope I’m not—
(
He stops. AURORA enters, visibly pregnant and flushed.
)
TITHONUS (
to KONSTANTIN
):
She tries to do too much. It’s not right.
KONSTANTIN:
No, it’s not right …
AURORA (
to TITHONUS
):
Oh, what a climb! But here I am!
TITHONUS (
kissing her hand
):
Yes, here you are, at last.
AURORA:
But what a pretty spot! And you told me your friends had left!
(
To KONSTANTIN.
)
Good afternoon.
(
To TITHONUS.
)
I believe I have not met this gentleman.
TITHONUS:
I must confess, I—
KONSTANTIN:
Konstantin Stepanovitch Tschudin, at your service.
AURORA (
giving him her hand
):
I’m delighted. You’ll excuse my appearance. I was ordered—
TITHONUS:
You were ordered to confine yourself to the morning room.
AURORA (
in high spirits
):
Quite so, the morning room, where I belong, if I may have my little joke. But there were too many plants, the air was damp and green with
them, and before I knew it I was out of doors. As I walked through the village, a dozen wise old women with rosy wrinkled cheeks pressed round me, stroking me, kissing me, showing me the way ….
(
Her tone changes.
)
I’m all at once extraordinarily tired.
KONSTANTIN (
opening the basket
):
I’m certain we have a drop of cognac here.
TITHONUS:
I trust it’s not the sight of me that has tired you.
AURORA:
Darling, you’re peevish—why?
(
She picks up one or two bits of the torn photograph, vaguely puzzled?
)
Tell me what you’ve done today.
TITHONUS:
Oh, nothing, you know ….
KONSTANTIN:
A very interesting picture.
AURORA:
I’m so glad! May I see it?
TITHONUS (
coldly
):
I’d rather you didn’t. It’s unfinished, and I don’t know if I care enough to make the necessary changes.
(
Taking up his easel, paintbox, etc
)
Shall we be on our way?
AURORA (
accepting a glass from KONSTANTIN
):
Yes, I feel—oh, thank you, you’re very kind—quite at the end of my strength. It is a new feeling—
TITHONUS (
petulant
):
Aurora!
AURORA:
—and a curiously pleasant one …
(
She drinks, returns the glass, and picks up TITHONUS’s campstool.
)
… part of the great human adventure ….
(
She follows TITHONUS out.
)
(
America, 1954. A garden adjoining the house of AURORA and TITHONUS. There is a reclining lawn chair among other pieces of garden furniture, a trellis and a neglected plot of geraniums. One feels that no other houses are nearby. It is early morning.
)
(
AURORA sits smoking. She is carelessly and unbecomingly dressed, without make-up. Within reach are gardening tools. After a moment MARK enters. He wears slacks and a white polo shirt.
)
MARK:
Lovely morning, isn’t it?
AURORA (
squinting
):
Who’s that? Oh. No, it isn’t lovely, since you ask.
MARK:
Perhaps you haven’t had your coffee.
AURORA:
I have, though. And a filthy egg. And don’t expect me to talk about it. My mind is a Black Hole.
(
He touches her neck.
)
And don’t make love to me!
MARK:
In that case I’ll help you with the flowers.
AURORA:
Flowers! They’re a simple scandal. I don’t want to weed them, I want to wring their necks. Get away from them, do, they’ll smear you from head to foot. I know.
MARK (
laughing
):
All right. What has happened?
AURORA:
Nothing that hasn’t happened for the last hundred years. It’s like the water-drop torture, it keeps accumulating. I ought at least to be thankful that the boy has come. The boy! He’s three times your age. Old enough to give his poor mother some advice. It’s clear that I can’t think any more.
MARK:
But that’s wonderful news! I thought I saw a strange car in the drive. When did he come?
AURORA:
At the crack of dawn. For his father’s birthday.
MARK:
You should be tremendously relieved.
AURORA:
How so?
MARK:
Why, just that he’ll take his share of the responsibility. He’s retired, he’s come home, hasn’t he? You’ll have a certain freedom to lead your own life, after these years of strain.
AURORA:
I don’t believe he’s staying.
MARK:
He’s not staying?
AURORA:
I can’t blame him. What did Tithonus and I ever do for him? That’s what he said to me, his own mother, who cooked his breakfast! But he was right.
MARK:
I don’t think I’m going to like Memnon.
AURORA:
He is awfully pompous to be one’s son. I suppose it’s the result of a military career. His father’s father was the same way.
MARK:
It wouldn’t hurt him to take over for a little while.
AURORA:
No, it wouldn’t. Oh, I never dreamed I’d feel so worn, so old—!
MARK:
You
will never be old.
AURORA:
Don’t tell me, my sweet. Hand me the shears. No, I meant the trowel. I may
look
the same, but listen to me. I sound like Madeleine Usher.
MARK:
I get angry hearing you make fun of yourself. The beautiful way you bear this situation—