You’re not required to spare us distress. (He is fighting back tears) Don’t spare us distress. I think you deserve to outlive us all. You only have to want to.
ALICE
Ah. Wanting. I’ve been told that before.
HARRY
A matter of self-respect.
ALICE
Which is wanting.
HARRY
You play with words dear heart.
ALICE
It is an answer. I didn’t mean anything so hand-wringing.
HARRY
Were you ever happy as a child. I mean up to when. You must have been. Nobody starts out in despair from the very beginning. You must have been. Why don’t I remember. (Tearful) I’ve known you all my life.
ALICE
No. I’ve known you all my life. You’re older. Harry please don’t weep.
HARRY
(Dries eyes) I know I cannot make you like to live, or regard death with less indiscreet familiarity.
ALICE
Stop. Tell me about yourself.
HARRY
Now who is comforting whom.
ALICE
Well I am a woman and that is a woman’s job, to comfort and reassure men, even from the bed, sickbed deathbed birthbed, to which the man has come, on tiptoe, to visit and comfort, is it not.
HARRY
How bitter you are my sister. Father always said you were bitter.
ALICE
Not so bitter as not to be able to laugh at myself. At you. Even at Father …
(HARRY signals for another mattress.)
Yes I was cold.
HARRY
You look more comfortable now. You can’t go off.
ALICE
Why are you so fat Harry. Oh. Who said that.
HARRY
Sleep, sleep dear heart.
ALICE
Not yet. Lean closer Harry. Tell me a story. Bring me the world. I want to laugh with you, covet with you, be cast down with you, feel superior with you. My swan.
HARRY
My own darling girl.
(He leans forward. Music up. Lights dim very slowly.)
SCENE 5
Veranda or sun room. Large tree-like plant. Long table with full white tablecloth, teapot, tray, cups and saucers. White-painted wicker chairs grouped at one end of the table. MARGARET in one of the chairs, holding a cup and saucer, reading. She has on a hat and is robust, homely, appealing. In another chair KUNDRY, head down, asleep. EMILY—frail, in a shift—enters.
EMILY
Margaret. Don’t get up.
MARGARET
Are we early.
EMILY
Tenderness is always timely.
MARGARET
I think I’m early. Perhaps you are punctual.
EMILY
Waiting is a long hello.
MARGARET
She should drink lemon tea. Mine is with milk. Am I supposed to offer you something. But I do not consider myself the hostess.
EMILY
(Looking at KUNDRY) Will she wake up.
MARGARET
It depends on us. On the need.
EMILY
I’d like there to be others.
MARGARET
I mean to be of help. I think I can be helpful.
EMILY
The need is like a flower, and I have prepared my flower smile.
(MARGARET, sipping her tea, has put the book on her knee. It falls to the floor; EMILY leans over and returns it to her.)
MARGARET
Grazie.
EMILY
Who else then.
MARGARET
Why do you want there to be others. I should think we’re more than enough.
EMILY
I shall always defer to you.
MARGARET
Oh please. Don’t tell me that you find me intimidating.
EMILY
Yes. But what pleasure I get from defying my fears!
MARGARET
Our fears our griefs are not the point here as far as I understand.
(ALICE is carried in by M I and M II.)
Ah. Here’s our girl.
(ALICE is set down in the chair at the end of the table; her legs are covered with a paisley shawl. MARGARET draws her chair closer.)
Alice, Emily was saying she found it intimidating to be alone with me. Don’t you hate it when someone says that to you.
ALICE
I’m sure Emily meant it as a compliment.
EMILY
I didn’t say it. I admitted it. Which is another season.
MARGARET
(To ALICE) Don’t you cringe when someone says that to you?
ALICE
What a beautiful day. It would be preposterous for anyone to say such a thing to me.
MARGARET
Nonsense. Of course it has been said to and of you. You’re ambushed. Either you take it as a compliment, and then you’re straddling your flatterer whether you want to or not. Or you start reassuring, groveling really, to put the other at ease.
(EMILY moves toward the door.)
Emily where are you going.
ALICE
Emily.
EMILY
I brought flowers. I did bring them. Wait.
(She exits.)
MARGARET
Do you think I offended her. I’m truly sorry. Sometimes I have acted on a strong impulse and could not analyze what passed in my mind. I acted what was in my character. It is a terrible world. It was hard to be a woman known, among other attributes, for her homeliness.
ALICE
You may complain to me. Do.
MARGARET
I’m sorry if I offended her.
ALICE
She’ll return, she promised. Let’s take this moment alone. I do admire that you had the courage to live to write to be enthusiastic, to walk about the world. I do admire you.
MARGARET
I was an embarrassment to others. And then to the relief of many I died.
ALICE
I’m an embarrassment to myself. (Laughs) And you wanted to live. Look what it took to subdue you. Those were mighty waters.
(MARGARET sighs.)
I’m sorry. I don’t mean to remind you so light-heartedly. I think about death so much, death is such a familiar consoling thought, I forget how weighty it is when you’re out in the world. (Pauses) I live so lightly I need to be held down.
MARGARET
It was a terrible ending. I tried to save my baby. We drowned within a hundred yards of the land.
ALICE
Forgive me. I shouldn’t make personal remarks.
MARGARET
I do, whenever I can.
(She looks at KUNDRY.)
I do think it’s rude of her to go on sleeping. But I’m trying to sympathize.
ALICE
Let’s not wake her. Two is my favorite size for a party. And let’s not be sad. I want to arrive at a more buoyant conclusion.
MARGARET
Would you like some tea. I think I am the only one here with any manners.
ALICE
Lemon tea.
MARGARET
I knew that’s what you would ask for. I said to Emily that while I prefer tea with milk you would—
(Looks in teapot.)
But there isn’t any and I shouldn’t have offered because I am not and do not want to be the hostess.
(KUNDRY raises her head—she is disheveled, has wild hair, etc.—and speaks as if still sleeping.)
KUNDRY
You might as well say I sleep because I am suffering as that I am suffering because I am asleep.
Kundry.
KUNDRY
Who has called.
ALICE
No one who means you harm.
KUNDRY
Why have I been awakened. I want to sleep.
(She lays her head down again on the table; sleeps.)
MARGARET
&nb
sp; I don’t mean to frustrate you.
ALICE
What.
MARGARET
The tea. I wish there were tea. But I think it is not for me to regret or to provide. Then shall we have a pipe.
ALICE
Yes. Yes. Exactly what I was thinking.
(Rings bell. M I and M II wheel in a dozen or so mattresses and a tray-table with paraphernalia for smoking opium: two large hookahs, etc. Faint Parsifal music from off-stage.)
Let’s not wait for Emily. Are we being naughty. I don’t think this particular pleasure would be good for Emily.
(They laugh.)
Most imprudent.
(ALICE leans toward MARGARET, then pulls away abruptly.)
Oh I think I am siding with mediocrity. I am betraying her or myself or someone. Oh. Is this whom I want to talk to.
MARGARET
Yes. Me.
(M I and M II have set two stacks of three mattresses on the floor, keeping the rest to the side.)
It does not I think require genius to live.
ALICE
(Still agitated) I am betraying myself.
MARGARET
(Dryly) How inconvenient to be two people. The possibility of betrayal does in that case I fear suggest itself.
(She pauses, looks at ALICE expectantly.)
ALICE
(Suddenly relaxing) You are right of course. I am taking myself much too seriously. Oh. (Laughs) I’m still two am I not. I’m afraid I have never been gifted for having or even attending a party.
(M II drops something, making a loud noise.)
KUNDRY
(Raising her head, eyes closed) Why have I been awakened.
(MARGARET taps KUNDRY On the shoulder, looks at ALICE, shakes her head.)
MARGARET
Oh this lost soul.
ALICE
From my limited experience of parties—
MARGARET
Don’t denigrate yourself. The first rule.
ALICE
I was going to say that I’m not prepared to say she’s being rude. I’m so sorry for her.
MARGARET
She will eventually find us interesting I wager.
(M I and M II install MARGARET and ALICE or the mattresses with their hookahs. Music up. Lights lower.)
ALICE
I do love lying down don’t you.
MARGARET
(Languid voice) I was very active. (Inhales) But now I’m not myself.
ALICE
(Laughs) You see. You too. Two of you. It’s always like that when you think.
MARGARET
(Dreamily) Not myself. I’m adapting to my environment.
ALICE
(Sighing) I’ve never seen Rome. And now I never shall.
MARGARET
It’s just as you imagine. That beautiful. Are you imagining it.
ALICE
I suppose you are against suicide.
MARGARET
Never seen the point. We die too soon anyway.
ALICE
(Sitting up) We’ve abandoned Kundry too. Who I’m sure would be more comfortable lying down with us.
Even Kundry you will note does not kill herself.
(ALICE settles back on the mattress; inhales smoke.)
ALICE
I wanted advice. From a woman I could respect. I’ve always sought advice from men.
MARGARET
People were always giving me advice, for my own good. Truth was, they did not want me to embarrass them.
ALICE
Exactly.
(They laugh.)
I don’t have a sister.
MARGARET
Women despair differently. I’ve observed that. We can be very stoical.
ALICE
I don’t know whether to feel more or less.
(She sits, refills hookah.)
I’m at a turning. (Inhales) Do you think Emily will return. Do you think Kundry will wake up. I realize I rather liked the idea of a party. Feeling less perhaps.
MARGARET
Thinking doesn’t help? I always found it helped.
ALICE
Thinking.
MARGARET
Unhappiness may be only a mistake. A mental mistake, that you could still undo.
ALICE
Retrace my steps. Oh. But I can’t walk. (Becoming agitated) You see I can’t walk.
(Knocks over her hookah.)
I’m feeling very strange. Is it this? Don’t you feel strange.
(Sound of waves.)
MARGARET
I’m not susceptible. Wish I were. (Sighs) But I’m too practical.
(Stands.)
Always have my feet on the ground. (Laughs) When they’re not in the water.
ALICE
I have to be calm. Help me.
MARGARET
Good. You’re becoming excited.
ALICE
I must be calm. When I crossed the Atlantic it was November. The sea was calm. But I never left my cabin. Shortly after the ship sailed I had what Father called one of my nervous attacks. I never left my cabin. Miss Loring was with me. Harry met the boat at Liverpool. Two stout sailors carried me ashore and I spent a week recuperating in a Liverpool hotel, attended by a maid Harry had brought and a nurse and Miss Loring. Then Harry took me to London and installed me in lodgings near Piccadilly near his own rooms.
MARGARET
You crossed the Atlantic and never left your cabin?
ALICE
Recumbent.
MARGARET
The sea was, there was no, the sea—
ALICE
Calm.
MARGARET
You didn’t want to see anything.
ALICE
Don’t reproach me.
(Light change. EMILY enters with flowers. She distributes them.)
You left us Emily. We waited for you. That doesn’t seem fair.
EMILY
The pain deserved a blank.
ALICE
I did think this was a party you were giving for me. And so I thought no doubt mistakenly that I could count on a minimum of—
(She sees EMILY at the table reaching for the teapot.)
You know there isn’t any tea.
(EMILY pours herself tea, stands sipping it.)
MARGARET
(To ALICE) I’m beginning to worry about you. Truly worry.
ALICE
What do you mean.
(EMILY sits demurely on a mattress.)
MARGARET
I do question the need, I suppose I mean the wisdom, but of course it’s in the end a matter of common sense, when, by asking Emily as well, you—