Barker, Plays Eight

by Howard Barker

  MORE: SHUDDUP. (Long pause.)

  ALICE: How long do you intend to –

  MORE: (Fixed in a position.) Hours. (She goes to cross to him.) Don’t wade into my sea. (She stops. MEG appears, BERTRAND, SERVANTS, like bathers on the edge of a pool.) Oh, I soil your memory, oh, I soil your pity, I soil it with my dead man’s mischief, NO APOLOGY! (Pause.)

  ALICE: Oh, how you wreck the greatness of your character.

  MORE: My greatness… how essential mankind should own the mould of More to jam its clumsy limbs into… BE MORE LIKE MORE. He was so. He met his fate like. What a supreme example of. Oh, flawless, oh immaculate – (He detects BERTRAND, moving.) DON’T ENTER MY WATER! (He stops.) I do this for you, so that you may be ashamed… and see terrible aches in perfect men… (As if by mute agreement, they surge over the snow and enclose him.)

  SCENE 12

  Part of the garden. BERTRAND intercepts CECILIA.

  BERTRAND: (Dropping to her feet and embracing her pregnant belly.) The genius dies… new genius! (He covers her belly with kisses.) Birth on his death day! Can you manage it? As the axe comes, so you burst! Their souls brush wings in passing!

  (He stumbles away.)

  SCENE 13

  The maze, Brutopia. Snow, and a thin, cruel wind. CECILIA enters. In the centre, HENRY, cloaked and hooded like a monk. His LOUTS play draughts. She comes to where he is seated. He looks at her.

  CECILIA: How beautiful you are.

  KING HENRY: I’ve been called it often, but it was never meant.

  CECILIA: Beautiful because you live the thought…

  KING HENRY: And the thought, what is that now?

  CECILIA: The thought is you would see me naked. That is the thought now. And later, the thought might be, she should be dead. (Pause.) Shall I undress myself, or will you?

  KING HENRY: My fingers are too cold for buttons, I –

  (She goes to unbutton herself.) Wait!

  CECILIA: I can’t wait –

  KING HENRY: No pleasure in too hasty –

  CECILIA: Oh, quick, the thought’s the action, quick! (He seizes her hand, holds her firmly, a long time.)

  KING HENRY: There is some – unity among men – which – some fellowship which – and your father is not dead –

  CECILIA: Fellowship?

  KING HENRY: Not dead and I –

  CECILIA: What fellowship? (He falters.) Oh, God… you… even you…are goodness-stricken… WHAT UNITY AMONG MEN, WHAT! (HENRY jumps to his feet and calls to the draughts players.)

  KING HENRY: Beat her!

  CECILIA: Beat me –

  KING HENRY: Beat, I said! (The LOUTS, abandoning their game, pull CECILIA away. The sound of struggle from the maze. HENRY sits at the draught board. The LOUTS return without CECILIA.) I could talk to More of many things. How I shall miss More! But not all things. (They wait.) Tell her husband, or her nurse. Yobs beats her, say. Say Yobs climbed in. (They go off. THE COMMON MAN appears.)

  THE COMMON

  MAN: Sir Tom loves me. (HENRY looks up,

  judging him at a glance.)

  KING HENRY: Why?

  THE COMMON

  MAN: I laugh at all he says.

  KING HENRY: Not all he says is funny. (THE COMMON MAN smiles. HENRY moves a piece. He does not look up.) Listen, I hate the poor…

  THE COMMON

  MAN: We can’t be trusted, certainly…

  KING HENRY: No, worse than that. Someone said God loves you, and it’s made you vain. (He moves a piece.) Behind your abject eye lies some vanity you will inherit the earth. DON’T PUT YOUR HAND ON MY BOARD. (THE COMMON MAN’s hand hovers.) Only the rich have humility, for they know they are condemned… (His eyes rise to meet THE COMMON MAN’s.)

  SCENE 14

  The assembled FAMILY and SERVANTS of THOMAS MORE, arranged on the terrace according to rank. A wind tugs their garments. At last MORE appears, grey. They look to him, expectantly. He addresses them.

  MORE: I was happy here. But that was a prison. I was loved here. But that was a cell. Your kindness was a barred window, and your respect a manacle. (He smiles, He goes down, addressing the SERVANTS individually, warmly shaking their hands.) Thank you. There is five pounds in the kitchen. Thank you. There is something for you in the kitchen. Thank you. Thank you. Look in the kitchen. Thank you. The kitchen for you, too. Thank you. I shall miss your sponges. Thank you. (He stops at the end of the row of SERVANTS. He is level with ALICE.) Oh, God… (He looks into her face.) Oh God, what am I to say to you? All I rehearsed is rubbish… (She looks at him.)

  ALICE: Look in the kitchen…? (Pause. He seizes her to himself with a terrible fastness.) What…? What…? Give me a word…give me a word… (He shakes his head. He moves on. He embraces his son. He moves on, to MEG.)

  MORE: How you will be maimed. How you will find a whole half of your being gone, like some rough butcher cleaved you down as well as me… (She looks into him. He frees himself from her hand, and speaks to ROPER, who is next.) Give her your little comfort… plug her wounds with little waddings of old husband love… (He looks for CECILIA, who is absent. BERTRAND, next, speaks for her.)

  BERTRAND: She –

  MORE: (Silencing him with a finger.) She.

  BERTRAND: She –

  MORE: She. (He smiles. He places himself at an angle to the entire company, and with supreme calculation, bows. As he does so, a familiar cry is heard.)

  BONCHOPE: Hey…! (MORE pulls his cloak around him, and walks smartly away towards the river, over the lawn. A FIGURE is seen hurtling towards him.) I preach heresy! I preach! I preach the proper word of God and death so what I preach! (BONCHOPE catches up with MORE and dogs his heels.) I deny denial! I recant the recantation! God’s honest arguments and death so what! (MORE strides on.) I speak Him, Lord, I am thy gob and death so what! I wag the Christ tongue in my mouth, His message lives so long as I, and death so what! (He falls behind, onto his knees. The FAMILY are a small group in the distance. MORE stops. Pause. He goes back to BONCHOPE.)

  MORE: You could not resist, then? It pulled you, did it, from nest and loving marriage? DEATH’S TIT? (BONCHOPE stares into MORE.) We are so… We are so… Kiss me, enemy… (BONCHOPE stares.) My boat’s waiting. Quick! (BONCHOPE climbs to his feet, goes to MORE. They embrace. They go off.)

  ALICE: (To THE SERVANT.) You don’t sob…

  THE SERVANT: I shall if you require it. To keep my post I’ll sob buckets…

  ALICE: No, sob for proper or forget it. (She turns to go to the house.)

  THE SERVANT: Nor you neither, I observe… (ALICE stops. She looks over the garden.)

  ALICE: This will be a dead house, now.

  THE SERVANT: Or mad, maybe…

  ALICE: Grief-stricken and all gloom…

  THE SERVANT: Or giggle, maybe…

  ALICE: The garden slips… and old walls heave… moss in the unused bedrooms… LIFE WITHOUT THE MASTER. (She looks at THE SERVANT.) Preserve his things as if he were about to come back any minute. A clean shirt daily by his bed. And change his books around, the order of them. His inkwell, do not let it dry, and ask the postman in, whether or not he has letters. Give him brandy, as my husband did. LIFE WITHOUT THE MASTER. (She holds the eye of THE SERVANT, then hurries away.)

  SCENE 15

  A quiet place in the garden. BERTRAND sedulously attends to CECILIA’s bruises with a bowl of balsam and a lint.

  BERTRAND: I like this… (He dabs.) I do like this…!

  CECILIA: Why do you?

  BERTRAND: Because you are in need of me. Because you’re still. And for one shred of a moment – weak! (He dabs.) They found the louts, and they were thrashed.

  CECILIA: What louts? I identified no one.

  BERTRAND: No need. They confessed.

  CECILIA: To what?

  BERTRAND: Beating. Trespass. I forget. Is that enough?

  CECILIA: (Smiling at him.) Yes.

  BERTRAND: (Putting down the bowl.) I am so full of delight! I am childish with the thought of the child! (He lo
oks at her, moved.) Hold my head.

  Do place an affectionate paw on my head. Though we conceived it crudely I aspire to your kindness.

  CECILIA: Yes. I can do that. (She puts a hand on his head.) I can because I think so slightly of you. I can massage you like a dog… (ALICE appears, smiling at them.)

  ALICE: He missed you, did Bertrand say? Or not missed. It is so hard to tell the actual feeling of a genius. Perhaps he merely registered your absence. May I sit? (She sits on the wall.) And it’s ours. (She swings her ankle to and fro.) The whole damned thing. (She laughs lightly, bites her lip.) I have this absurd feeling! Of course, I shall be ill, of course at some stage I shall utterly disintegrate, but at this moment I feel… A RUSH OF INFANTILE DELIRIUM. (She laughs. Pause. She swings her foot.) I can tell you. I can tell you because you aren’t at all censorious. I could not tell Meg. Who could tell Meg anything? She is so censorious. I shudder at the march of Meg! Shall I go? (She hops up.) I am forever interrupting, which is the function of the widow, I suspect? I’ll go. (She does not move. CECILIA rises, holds her close.) How wonderful to have a baby. How I hate and envy you… (She smiles, and goes. CECILIA watches her departure.)

  CECILIA: She loves you. You have done something with her.

  BERTRAND: Me? What?

  CECILIA: No, you have.

  BERTRAND: Me?

  CECILIA: Words, or something. You have set her on.

  BERTRAND: I –

  CECILIA: (Briskly.) It must be time you visited the Commons, the committees will be frothing, and you have horribly neglected the Russia trade.

  BERTRAND: It proceeds without…

  CECILIA: It proceeds without? Then what are you for? No, you must get on, and I will harvest the baby when its hour comes, all this rurality ruins you. YOU ARE NOTHING LIKE THE BASTARD YOU WERE ONCE.

  (She smiles, the smile fades.) I am certain there is goodness in me. But this goodness cannot emerge in the company of the good, who sicken me. (Pause. He walks, stops, turns.)

  BERTRAND: MY CHILD ALSO.

  CECILIA: I know that. (He walks, stops again.)

  BERTRAND: MY TINY PROPERTY.

  CECILIA: Yes. (He goes.)

  THE CAPTION

  Sir Thomas More was executed on 6 July 1535. His final joke was made with his executioner.

  SCENE 16

  The garden in a neglected state. CECILIA is standing with HENRY, whose arms are wrapped about her.

  CECILIA: These rare visits. These expeditions in dark clothes. And great anger in your act. I don’t criticize. (He kisses her passionately.) These nocturnal raids. These depradations in me.

  I don’t criticize. But the book’s not printed.

  KING HENRY: A king might lavish so much on a woman…!

  CECILIA: No castles, thanks…

  KING HENRY: Might deck her out in such – (He nuzzles her.)

  CECILIA: The book, though…

  KING HENRY: Shh…down now… (He explores her.) I suffer you… I squirm in aches which arch over the skies…

  CECILIA: Me, too…but where’s the book, I –

  KING HENRY: (Freezing.) NO BOOK. (She stares at him.)

  CECILIA: No book?

  KING HENRY: It’s too much gloom.

  CECILIA: Gloom?

  KING HENRY: Yes. Mankind is fouled in it. (She smiles, disbelieving him. She reaches out an exploratory, seductive finger. He slaps it away.)

  NO.

  YOU.

  GRIM.

  HAG.

  (She is horrified. He runs his hand through his hair, anxiously.)

  Can’t print it though you can cut me off from cunt for ever more. Can’t license it though you shut me out of all your little doors. It can’t be done.

  CECILIA: You licensed More. Utopia swamps all the bookstalls, and in new editions since you murdered him. Why him, and why not me? (He looks at her with cross irritation.) They are sweating at the printers, fanning themselves with inky paws, everywhere Utopia, where is mine? (Pause.)

  KING HENRY: Literature must make us love ourselves.

  That is its function. And yours don’t.

  (She stares, bitterly.)

  CECILIA: No, that’s false. (She shuts her eyes, desperately.) I wish I could – scoop up the arguments, but – it’s false…!

  KING HENRY: Sir Tom praised Man. Oh, good Sir Tom…! (She is speechless for some seconds, aghast.)

  CECILIA: No, listen – listen, THAT’S PREPOSTEROUS, YOU HAD HIM –

  KING HENRY: His democracy is luminous before our weary eyes –

  CECILIA: LISTEN!

  KING HENRY: Is not Utopia wonderful, for us base killers to see hovering like a mirage on the stinking draught? (As if disintegrating, CECILIA sinks to the ground.) No, don’t splay like that, it’s not womanly. (She is like a fallen doll.)

  Up, I said, you look like a scrubber. (She does not move.) It’s possible to cease requiring you, it must be said, I – (He turns to go.)

  CECILIA: Don’t go! (She struggles to recover, brushing her skirt. He waits, his back to her.) How could you want me so, how could you show such greatness in wanting…and yet… hold such mundane and shallow beliefs…?

  KING HENRY: (Turning on her.) WON’T PERMIT THE BOOK! (He stamps and shouts.) YOU USE ME! WON’T LICENSE THE BOOK!

  (The sound of an alarmed hunting dog.)

  CECILIA: Now you’ve done it. (It barks, it approaches. An expression of unease crosses HENRY’s features.) Perhaps dogs lick your palms. I would.

  (It comes nearer.) Let me be your bitch, all teeth in abeyance, fawning up your hip… (The bark comes nearer. THE COMMON MAN appears from cover.)

  KING HENRY: Call off that thing.

  THE COMMON

  MAN: I’ve no authority.

  KING HENRY: Then find some, quick.

  THE COMMON

  MAN: I stoop. I wheedle, only.

  KING HENRY: Then get on dog level and plead. (The barking becomes a low running growl. THE COMMON MAN and HENRY regard each other tensely.) Christ help you if it marks me, you’re for the block… (A moment of recognition. THE COMMON MAN plunges to all fours.)

  THE COMMON

  MAN: Dog! Dog! Gnaw me! Hound, rip!

  (The animal trots into sight, is placated by the spectacle of THE COMMON MAN on all fours, and licks him.)

  CECILIA: So I’ll be with you, when I am wild… (HENRY goes to leave.)

  THE COMMON

  MAN: Drink, sir! Tom did! Sandwich, sir! Tom did! (HENRY leans intimately to him.)

  KING HENRY: If you knew me, forget me, lout. (THE COMMON MAN makes a button of his lips. HENRY goes. CECILIA turns to go to the house.)

  THE COMMON

  MAN: Room for another? (She stops.) Room for another?

  SCENE 17

  The maze in a high wind. CECILIA enters in a shift, as if prepared for birth. A cacophony of street carnival and laughter.

  CECILIA: (Aside.) The sound of Brutopia was roaring. Day and night it roared, and things were falling, things were breaking constantly, which was a sort of anthem in the unkind air…

  (She looks for THE SERVANT through a mob.) JANET!

  THE SERVANT: (Appearing beside her.) Childbirth here’s a spectacle, and hundreds have to witness it, not only husbands but whole factories, whole regiments and schools!

  CECILIA: (Grasping her.) Support me, I’m the queen –

  THE SERVANT: (Leading her.) You see, what everybody hates is privacy, all acts must be seen! (She assists her to a bench. Whistles and raucous applause.)

  CECILIA: Protect me, I’m the queen! (An immediate silence. The CROWD disappears. CECILIA sees a WOMAN coming towards her. They are alone.

  The WOMAN stops, smiles.)

  BOLEYN: Everybody nowadays has a maze. I knew this one would be different, since a genius designed it. But genius abhors the arbitrary, so I found in a short time, it had its rules. It’s a right turn after every three. Why three? His daughters? Or the Trinity? (Long pause. She smiles, her eyes fixed on CECILIA, not unkindly.) />
  It is not simple for me, this. Whilst I am forever doing it, each time it burns. (Pause.) Do you know me? I am Ann Boleyn. I made the last queen’s bed, and then I simply entered it. So might you, with mine, and I am here to threaten you, is that his baby you have there? I am the final queen I state categorically. Speak if you want to. (Long pause.) I don’t accuse, I merely threaten, whilst perfectly aware endangered love affairs are the most clinging, I found it so myself we also were a risk and probably you aren’t the only one, whose is this child?

  Do speak. (Pause.)

  CECILIA: Not his.

  BOLEYN: Whose, then? You are not married I know, I investigate before these missions, and so would you. It helps to face the enemy to know their night time tricks.

  CECILIA: Bert Caldwell.

  BOLEYN: Him!

  CECILIA: Him, yes!

  BOLEYN: It is a small world!

  CECILIA: Small? It’s microscopic, listen, obviously you frighten me –

  BOLEYN: That’s my intent –

  CECILIA: I promise you I’ve no designs upon your place –

  BOLEYN: They all say that –

  CECILIA: No, but proof, I’m queen already, thanks –

  BOLEYN: Of what, his heart?

  CECILIA: Brutopia. (Pause.)

  BOLEYN: Where’s that? (Pause. CECILIA smiles.) You’re not sane.

  CECILIA: I’m certain that is my whole attraction. (Pause.)

  BOLEYN: Try to be sensible, your father was.

  I immensely liked him, and though he was

  a snob he never leered.

  CECILIA: He did leer. It was himself he leered at.

  BOLEYN: He paid me many compliments, and sweetly put –

  CECILIA: He did so many things with a straight face – (BOLEYN lashes a slap. CECILIA reels. Pause.)

  BOLEYN: The times I’ve done this and always said on setting out, Ann Boleyn, no violence! And yet no sooner do I set foot on the property I see red swimming in the bottom of my eyes! Do let’s be sensible I hate to strike the pregnant.

  CECILIA: Oh, don’t be kind for – (BOLEYN lashes her again. CECILIA holds her face. Pause.) Don’t hit me again, I will give up your husband. (Pause.)