The Complete Works of   JAMES JOYCE

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The Complete Works of   JAMES JOYCE Page 230

by James Joyce


  BERTHA

  (Looking at him.) But you never...

  ROBERT

  No. Because you had chosen him. I saw that. I saw it on the first night we met, we three together. Why did you choose him?

  BERTHA

  (Bends her head.) Is that not love?

  598

  ROBERT

  (Continuing.) And every night when we two — he and I — came to that corner to meet you I saw it and felt it. You remember the corner, Bertha?

  BERTHA

  (As before.) Yes.

  ROBERT

  And when you and he went away for your walk and I went along the street alone I felt it. And when he spoke to me about you and told me he was going away — then most of all.

  BERTHA

  Why then most of all?

  ROBERT

  Because it was then that I was guilty of my first treason towards him.

  BERTHA

  Robert, what are you saying? Your first treason against Dick?

  ROBERT

  (Nods.) And not my last. He spoke of you and himself. Of how your life would be together — free and all that. Free, yes! He would not even ask you to go with him. (Bitterly.) He did not. And you went all the same.

  BERTHA

  I wanted to be with him. You know... (Raising her head and looking at him.) You know how we were then — Dick and I.

  ROBERT

  (Unheeding.) I advised him to go alone — not to take you with him — to live alone in order to see if what he felt for you was a passing thing which might ruin your happiness and his career.

  599

  BERTHA

  Well, Robert. It was unkind of you towards me. But I forgive you because you were thinking of his happiness and mine.

  ROBERT

  (Bending closer to her.) No, Bertha. I was not. And that was my treason. I was thinking of myself — that you might turn from him when he had gone and he from you. Then I would have offered you my gift. You know what it was now. The simple common gift that men offer to women. Not the best perhaps. Best or worst — it would have been yours.

  BERTHA

  (Turning away from him.) He did not take your advice.

  ROBERT

  (As before.) No. And the night you ran away together — O, how happy I was!

  BERTHA

  (Pressing his hands.) Keep calm, Robert. I know you liked me always. Why did you not forget me?

  ROBERT

  (Smiles bitterly.) How happy I felt as I came back along the quays and saw in the distance the boat lit up, going down the black river, taking you away from me! (In a calmer tone.) But why did you choose him? Did you not like me at all?

  BERTHA

  Yes. I liked you because you were his friend. We often spoke about you. Often and often. Every time you wrote or sent papers or books to Dick. And I like you still, Robert. (Looking into his eyes.) I never forgot you.

  ROBERT

  Nor I you. I knew I would see you again. I knew it the night you went away — that you would come back. And that was why I wrote and worked to see you again — here.

  600

  BERTHA

  And here I am. You were right.

  ROBERT

  (Slowly.) Nine years. Nine times more beautiful!

  BERTHA

  (Smiling.) But am I? What do you see in me?

  ROBERT

  (Gazing at her.) A strange and beautiful lady.

  BERTHA

  (Almost disgusted.) O, please don’t call me such a thing!

  ROBERT

  (Earnestly.) You are more. A young and beautiful queen.

  BERTHA

  (With a sudden laugh.) O, Robert!

  ROBERT

  (Lowering his voice and bending nearer to her.) But do you not know that you are a beautiful human being? Do you not know that you have a beautiful body? Beautiful and young?

  BERTHA

  (Gravely.) Some day I will be old.

  ROBERT

  (Shakes his head.) I cannot imagine it. Tonight you are young and beautiful. Tonight you have come back to me. (With passion.) Who knows what will be tomorrow? I may never see you again or never see you as I do now.

  BERTHA

  Would you suffer?

  ROBERT

  (Looks round the room, without answering.) This room and this hour were made for your coming. When you have gone — all is gone.

  BERTHA

  (Anxiously.) But you will see me again, Robert... as before.

  ROBERT

  (Looks full at her.) To make him — Richard — suffer.

  BERTHA

  He does not suffer.

  ROBERT

  (Bowing his head.) Yes, yes. He does.

  BERTHA

  He knows we like each other. Is there any harm, then?

  ROBERT

  (Raising his head.) No there is no harm. Why should we not? He does not know yet what I feel. He has left us alone here at night, at this hour, because he longs to know it — he longs to be delivered.

  601

  BERTHA

  From what?

  ROBERT

  (Moves closer to her and presses her arm as he speaks.) From every law, Bertha, from every bond. All his life he has sought to deliver himself. Every chain but one he has broken and that one we are to break. Bertha — you and I.

  BERTHA

  (Almost inaudibly.) Are you sure?

  ROBERT

  (Still more warmly.) I am sure that no law made by man is sacred before the impulse of passion. (Almost fiercely.) Who made us for one only? It is a crime against our own being if we are so. There is no law before impulse. Laws are for slaves. Bertha, say my name! Let me hear your voice say it. Softly!

  BERTHA

  (Softly.) Robert!

  ROBERT

  (Puts his arm about her shoulder.) Only the impulse towards youth and beauty does not die. (He points towards the porch.) Listen!

  BERTHA

  (In alarm.) What?

  ROBERT

  The rain falling. Summer rain on the earth. Night rain. The darkness and warmth and flood of passion. Tonight the earth is loved — loved and possessed. Her lover’s arms around her; and she is silent. Speak, dearest!

  BERTHA

  (Suddenly leans forward and listens intently.) Hush!

  ROBERT

  (Listening, smiles.) Nothing. Nobody. We are alone.

  (A gust of wind blows in through the porch, with a sound of shaken leaves. The flame of the lamp leaps.)

  BERTHA

  (Pointing to the lamp.) Look!

  ROBERT

  Only the wind. We have light enough from the other room.

  602

  (He stretches his hand across the table and puts out the lamp. The light from the doorway of the bedroom crosses the place where they sit. The room is quite dark.)

  ROBERT

  Are you happy? Tell me.

  BERTHA

  I am going now, Robert. It is very late. Be satisfied.

  ROBERT

  (Caressing her hair.) Not yet, not yet. Tell me, do you love me a little?

  BERTHA

  I like you, Robert. I think you are good. (Half rising.) Are you satisfied?

  ROBERT

  (Detaining her, kisses her hair.) Do not go, Bertha! There is time still. Do you love me too? I have waited a long time. Do you love us both — him and also me? Do you, Bertha? The truth! Tell me. Tell me with your eyes. Or speak!

  (She does not answer. In the silence the rain is heard falling.)

  Third Act

  (The drawingroom of Richard Rowan’s house at Merrion. The folding doors at the right are closed and also the double doors leading to the garden. The green plush curtains are drawn across the window on the left. The room is half dark. It is early in the morning of the next day. Bertha sits beside the window looking out between the curtains. She wears a loose saffron dressing gown. Her hair is combed loosely over the ears and knotted at the neck. Her hands are folded in her lap. Her face is p
ale and drawn.)

  (Brigid comes in through the folding doors on the right with a featherbroom and duster. She is about to cross but, seeing Bertha, she halts suddenly and blesses herself instinctively.)

  603

  BRIGID

  Merciful hour, ma’am. You put the heart across me. Why did you get up so early?

  BERTHA

  What time is it?

  BRIGID

  After seven, ma’am. Are you long up?

  BERTHA

  Some time.

  BRIGID

  (Approaching her.) Had you a bad dream that woke you?

  BERTHA

  I didn’t sleep all night. So I got up to see the sun rise.

  BRIGID

  (Opens the double doors.) It’s a lovely morning now after all the rain we had. (Turns round.) But you must be dead tired, ma’am. What will the master say at your doing a thing like that? (She goes to the door of the study and knocks.) Master Richard!

  BERTHA

  (Looks round.) He is not there. He went out an hour ago.

  BRIGID

  Out there, on the strand, is it?

  BERTHA

  Yes.

  BRIGID

  (Comes towards her and leans over the back of a chair.) Are you fretting yourself, ma’am, about anything?

  BERTHA

  No, Brigid.

  BRIGID

  Don’t be. He was always like that, meandering off by himself somewhere. He is a curious bird, Master Richard, and always was. Sure there isn’t a turn in him I don’t know. Are you fretting now maybe because he does be in there (pointing to the study) half the night at his books? Leave him alone. He’ll come back to you again. Sure he thinks the sun shines out of your face, ma’am.

  BERTHA

  (Sadly.) That time is gone.

  BRIGID

  (Confidentially.) And good cause I have to remember it — that time when he was paying his addresses to you. (She sits down beside Bertha. In a lower voice.) Do you know that he used to tell me all about you and nothing to his mother, God rest her soul? Your letters and all.

  604

  BERTHA

  What? My letters to him?

  BRIGID

  (Delighted.) Yes. I can see him sitting on the kitchen table, swinging his legs and spinning out of him yards of talk about you and him and Ireland and all kinds of devilment — to an ignorant old woman like me. But that was always his way. But if he had to meet a grand highup person he’d be twice as grand himself. (Suddenly looks at Bertha.) Is it crying you are now? Ah, sure, don’t cry. There’s good times coming still.

  BERTHA

  No, Brigid, that time comes only once in a lifetime. The rest of life is good for nothing except to remember that time.

  BRIGID

  (Is silent for a moment: then says kindly:) Would you like a cup of tea, ma’am? That would make you all right.

  BERTHA

  Yes, I would. But the milkman has not come yet.

  BRIGID

  No. Master Archie told me to wake him before he came. He’s going out for a jaunt in the car. But I’ve a cup left overnight. I’ll have the kettle boiling in a jiffy. Would you like a nice egg with it?

  BERTHA

  No, thanks.

  BRIGID

  Or a nice bit of toast?

  BERTHA

  No, Brigid, thanks. Just a cup of tea.

  BRIGID

  (Crossing to the folding doors.) I won’t be a moment. (She stops, turns back and goes towards the door on the left.) But first I must waken Master Archie or there’ll be ructions.

  (She goes out by the door on the left. After a few moments Bertha rises and goes over to the study. She opens the door wide and looks in. One can see a small untidy room with many bookshelves and a large writingtable with papers and an extinguished lamp and before it a padded chair. She remains standing for some time in the doorway, then closes the door again without entering the room. She returns to her chair by the window and sits down. Archie, dressed as before, comes in by the door on the right, followed by Brigid.)

  605

  ARCHIE

  (Comes to her and, putting up his face to be kissed, says:) Buon giorno, mamma!

  BERTHA

  (Kissing him.) Buon giorno, Archie! (To Brigid.) Did you put another vest on him under that one?

  BRIGID

  He wouldn’t let me, ma’am.

  ARCHIE

  I’m not cold, mamma.

  BERTHA

  I said you were to put it on, didn’t I?

  ARCHIE

  But where is the cold?

  BERTHA

  (Takes a comb from her head and combs his hair back at both sides.) And the sleep is in your eyes still.

  BRIGID

  He went to bed immediately after you went out last night, ma’am.

  ARCHIE

  You know he’s going to let me drive, mamma.

  BERTHA

  (Replacing the comb in her hair, embraces him suddenly.) O, what a big man to drive a horse!

  BRIGID

  Well, he’s daft on horses, anyhow.

  ARCHIE

  (Releasing himself.) I’ll make him go quick. You will see from the window, mamma. With the whip. (He makes the gesture of cracking a whip and shouts at the top of his voice.) Avanti!

  BRIGID

  Beat the poor horse, is it?

  BERTHA

  Come here till I clean your mouth. (She takes her handkerchief from the pocket of her gown, wets it with her tongue and cleans his mouth.) You’re all smudges or something, dirty little creature you are.

  606

  ARCHIE

  (Repeats, laughing.) Smudges! What is smudges?

  (The noise is heard of a milkcan rattled on the railings before the window.)

  BRIGID

  (Draws aside the curtains and looks out.) Here he is!

  ARCHIE

  (Rapidly.) Wait. I’m ready. Goodbye, mamma! (He kisses her hastily and turns to go.) Is pappie up?

  BRIGID

  (Takes him by the arm.) Come on with you now.

  BERTHA

  Mind yourself, Archie, and don’t be long or I won’t let you go any more.

  ARCHIE

  All right. Look out of the window and you’ll see me. Goodbye.

  (Brigid and Archie go out by the door on the left. Bertha stands up and, drawing aside the curtains still more, stands in the embrasure of the window looking out. The hall door is heard opening: then a slight noise of voices and cans is heard. The door is closed. After a moment or two Bertha is seen waving her hand gaily in a salute. Brigid enters and stands behind her, looking over her shoulder.)

  BRIGID

  Look at the sit of him! As serious as you like.

  BERTHA

  (Suddenly withdrawing from her post.) Stand out of the window. I don’t want to be seen.

  BRIGID

  Why, ma’am, what is it?

  BERTHA

  (Crossing towards the folding doors.) Say I’m not up, that I’m not well. I can’t see anyone.

  BRIGID

  (Follows her.) Who is it, ma’am?

  BERTHA

  (Halting.) Wait a moment.

  (She listens. A knock is heard at the hall door.)

  BERTHA

  (Stands a moment in doubt, then.) No, say I’m in.

  607

  BRIGID

  (In doubt.) Here?

  BERTHA

  (Hurriedly.) Yes. Say I have just got up.

  (Brigid goes out on the left. Bertha goes towards the double doors and fingers the curtains nervously, as if settling them. The hall door is heard to open. Then Beatrice Justice enters and, as Bertha does not turn at once, stands in hesitation near the door on the left. She is dressed as before and has a newspaper in her hand.)

  BEATRICE

  (Advances rapidly.) Mrs Rowan, excuse me for coming at such an hour.

  BERTHA

  (Turns.) Good morning, Miss Justice. (She comes towards her.) Is anything th
e matter?

  BEATRICE

  (Nervously.) I don’t know. That is what I wanted to ask you.

  BERTHA

  (Looks curiously at her.) You are out of breath. Won’t you sit down?

  BEATRICE

  (Sitting down.) Thank you.

  BERTHA

  (Sits opposite her, pointing to her paper.) Is there something in the paper?

  BEATRICE

  (Laughs nervously: opens the paper.) Yes.

  BERTHA

  About Dick?

  BEATRICE

  Yes. Here it is. A long article, a leading article, by my cousin. All his life is here. Do you wish to see it?

  BERTHA

  (Takes the paper, and opens it.) Where is it?

  BEATRICE

  In the middle. It is headed: A Distinguished Irishman.

  BERTHA

  Is it... for Dick or against him?

  BEATRICE

  (Warmly.) O, for him! You can read what he says about Mr Rowan. And I know that Robert stayed in town very late last night to write it.

  BERTHA

  (Nervously.) Yes. Are you sure?

  BEATRICE

  Yes. Very late. I heard him come home. It was long after two.

  608

  BERTHA

  (Watching her.) It alarmed you? I mean to be awakened at that hour of the morning.

  BEATRICE

  I am a light sleeper. But I knew he had come from the office and then... I suspected he had written an article about Mr Rowan and that was why he came so late.

  BERTHA

  How quick you were to think of that!

  BEATRICE

  Well, after what took place here yesterday afternoon — I mean what Robert said, that Mr Rowan had accepted this position. It was only natural I should think...

  BERTHA

  Ah, yes. Naturally.

  BEATRICE

  (Hastily.) But that is not what alarmed me. But immediately after I heard a noise in my cousin’s room.

  BERTHA

  (Crumples together the paper in her hands, breathlessly.) My God! What is it? Tell me.

  BEATRICE

  (Observing her.) Why does that upset you so much?

  BERTHA

  (Sinking back, with a forced laugh.) Yes, of course, it is very foolish of me. My nerves are all upset. I slept very badly, too. That is why I got up so early. But tell me what was it then?

  BEATRICE

  Only the noise of his valise being pulled along the floor. Then I heard him walking about his room, whistling softly. And then locking it and strapping it.

  BERTHA

  He is going away!

  BEATRICE

  That was what alarmed me. I feared he had had a quarrel with Mr Rowan and that his article was an attack.

 

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