(GINEVRA enters Right and stands listening.)
You won’t be able to get me certified. (She looks at NADINE and laughs.) There’s someone else who’s likely to be certified before me.
NADINE. (Catching her breath) You mean—Jinny?
MRS. BOYNTON. (Smoothly) Poor child.
(GINEVRA runs off Right.)
NADINE. Doctor Gerard is very interested in Jinny’s case.
MRS. BOYNTON. (Almost with a snarl) It’s nothing to do with him.
NADINE. He assures me that with treatment Jinny would become perfectly normal. I think we ought to get his advice.
MRS. BOYNTON. Jinny is under age—and what you think or don’t think, Nadine, doesn’t matter. I’m the one who decides.
NADINE. Yes—we’re all in your power—but if Jinny gets worse . . .
MRS. BOYNTON. If Jinny gets violent—(Smoothly) she will have, of course, to be restrained.
NADINE. Certified. Shut up. (She shivers) That’s what you want to happen. I’m beginning to understand you—at last.
MRS. BOYNTON. My poor dear admirable daughter-in-law. And you don’t know what to do about it.
NADINE. (In a low voice) Perhaps I do.
MRS. BOYNTON. Still going to remain devoted to Lennox however little he notices the fact? Jefferson Cope won’t wait for ever, you know.
NADINE. (Crossing below the table to Left) As long as Lennox wants me I shall stay with him.
MRS. BOYNTON. Does Lennox want you very much?
(NADINE winces.)
You must face facts, you know.
NADINE. What will you do if Raymond—escapes? (She turns to her.)
MRS. BOYNTON. I can manage Raymond.
NADINE. Perhaps you won’t be able to manage Sarah King. You may find that she’s stronger than you are.
MRS. BOYNTON. She’s a fool!
NADINE. Not Sarah.
MRS. BOYNTON. Have you been asking Lennox to go away with you lately? You haven’t had much success with that idea of yours, have you?
(NADINE turns away.)
Dear Lennox. He’s always been such an obedient, devoted son. (She laughs.)
(COPE enters Right.)
COPE. (Moving Right Centre) You sound in good spirits, Mrs. Boynton. That’s fine. I was afraid, you know, that the journey here might knock you up completely.
MRS. BOYNTON. I’m enjoying myself here. I’m enjoying myself a good deal.
COPE. It’s a wonderful place, it certainly is. (To NADINE) Are we going to have our walk? (He looks at MRS. BOYNTON) But perhaps . . .
MRS. BOYNTON. Oh, don’t mind leaving me. Nadine didn’t go on the expedition this morning. She ought to have a little exercise.
COPE. You’re always so considerate, Mrs. Boynton. (To NADINE) Shall we start? (He crosses to the slope Left.)
MRS. BOYNTON. (To NADINE) Just give me my medicine first, dear.
(NADINE exits to the marquee.)
MRS. BOYNTON. A tired heart, you know. A tired heart. It has to be constantly stimulated. Never any good making a fuss. One must think of others—not oneself.
(NADINE enters from the marquee, carrying a glass of medicine.)
NADINE (Moving to MRS. BOYNTON) Here it is.
(MRS. BOYNTON takes the glass and drinks the medicine.)
MRS. BOYNTON. Isn’t it rather stronger than usual? (She puts the glass on the table.)
NADINE. I don’t think so.
COPE. Shall we go now?
NADINE. (Moving to the slope Left) Yes, we’ll go now.
(COPE exits up the slope.)
(She goes up the slope a few steps, then stops.) Good-bye, Mother.
MRS. BOYNTON. Good-bye.
(NADINE exits up the slope. MRS. BOYNTON chuckles a little as she is left to herself. She examines the contents of GERARD’s case, takes out a bottle or two and looks at them. LENNOX enters Right and crosses towards the marquee. He has a book in his hand but walks like one in a dream.)
Lennox.
(LENNOX does not hear.)
(Louder) Lennox. Come here.
(LENNOX moves to Right of MRS. BOYNTON.)
What have you been doing, son?
(LENNOX acts throughout as though it took a long time for words to reach him.)
LENNOX. I’ve been reading.
MRS. BOYNTON. What have you been reading?
LENNOX. I can’t remember. Was Nadine here?
MRS. BOYNTON. Yes, she’s gone for a walk with Mr. Cope.
LENNOX. Oh.
(MRS. BOYNTON looks at LENNOX for a moment or two.)
MRS. BOYNTON. Has it ever occurred to you that your wife’s in love with Jefferson Cope?
LENNOX. (Rather quicker) Nadine—in love with Cope?
MRS. BOYNTON. He’s certainly in love with her. I think you ought to be prepared, son, for the possibility that Nadine might—leave you.
LENNOX. Leave me—Nadine?
MRS. BOYNTON. He’s a very charming man, you know, and they’ve always been great friends—and it’s been a dull life for Nadine. I’m afraid you haven’t been able to be much of a companion to her.
LENNOX. Nadine. I—I couldn’t live without Nadine. (He crosses down Left.)
MRS. BOYNTON. I’m afraid you may have to live without her—whether you want to or not.
LENNOX. She said she might go . . . (He breaks off.) She asked me . . . What did she ask me?
MRS. BOYNTON. How should I know?
LENNOX. I couldn’t do it, though, could I? I mean—where should I go? How should I live?
MRS. BOYNTON. I’m afraid you could never support yourself, my poor boy.
(LENNOX moves to Left of the table. His manner is now definitely odd.)
LENNOX. It’s you who are stopping me, isn’t it? Can’t you let me go? Please let me go.
MRS. BOYNTON. You can’t go. (She watches him closely.) You can’t go, Lennox. You’re no good. I’m afraid you’re going to be very unhappy.
LENNOX. (Muttering) Unhappy. (He sits Left of the table, his foot stepping on the bottle dropped by RAYMOND.)
MRS. BOYNTON. Pick that up.
(LENNOX picks up the bottle and stares at it.)
It will be very quiet without Nadine—very quiet and very lonely.
LENNOX. There’s something I could do—if I could only remember. (He rises and looks at the bottle.) Something quite easy. (He looks suddenly at MRS. BOYNTON.) Are you my enemy?
MRS. BOYNTON. What a very odd thing to say, dear boy.
(Voices are heard off Right.)
Give me that bottle, it belongs in here.
(LENNOX hands the bottle to MRS. BOYNTON, then exits to the marquee. MRS. BOYNTON looks at the bottle and puts it on the table. HIGGS enters Right. MISS PRYCE follows him on, catches her scarf on something and is held.)
MISS PRYCE. Oh dear.
HIGGS. Are ye fast? I mean, are yer stuck? (He moves to MISS PRYCE and detaches her.)
MISS PRYCE. Thank you so much. I’m quite loose now. (She moves Right Centre.)
(LADY WESTHOLME enters Right.)
LADY WESTHOLME. Now where is Mahommed? (She crosses to the marquee.) That man is never about when one wants him.
(LADY WESTHOLME exits to the marquee.)
HIGGS. (Crossing to Centre) What is that lad’s name? Mahommed or Abraham?
MISS PRYCE. Lady Westholme says she always calls her dragoman Mahommed.
HIGGS. What, even when it isn’t ’is name?
MISS PRYCE. Apparently.
HIGGS. Well! I wonder they stand for it. Ah wouldn’t.
MISS PRYCE. But then you’re such a masterful man, Mr. Higgs.
HIGGS. Ay. Ah know my rights and I stands oop for ’em.
MISS PRYCE. I can see that.
HIGGS. And them as doan’t is neither fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red ’errin’.
MISS PRYCE. And he’s such a nice man—and so clean. (Confidentially) He changes his shirt every day.
HIGGS. ’E needs to in this climate. Eh, I wasn’t ’alf in a muck sweat meself thi
s morning.
MISS PRYCE. (Reprovingly) Mr. Higgs!
HIGGS. Ah doan’t ’old much with foreigners. I shared a cabin with one comin’ over and one mornin’ I caught ’im usin’ my toothbrush.
MISS PRYCE. How revolting.
HIGGS. And d’yer know what ’e said? He said, “Ah thought it was a ship’s toothbrush—for us all like.” (He laughs uproariously.)
(MISS PRYCE winces.)
LADY WESTHOLME. (Off; calling) Mahommed.
HIGGS. (Calling) P’raps ’e’s oop on second floor, Lady Breastbone.
(LADY WESTHOLME appears at the entrance to the marquee.)
LADY WESTHOLME. (Furiously) What did you say, Mr. Higgs?
HIGGS. Ah said p’raps ’e’s oop on second floor, Lady Fishbone.
LADY WESTHOLME. You may find out to your cost, my good man, that my name is Westholme.
HIGGS. Ay. An’ ’is isn’t Mahommed.
(LADY WESTHOLME flounces back into the marquee and is heard again calling defiantly.)
LADY WESTHOLME. (Off; calling) Ma-hom-med.
HIGGS. (Chuckling) Eh! That’s a grand voice for electioneering. She wouldn’t need loudspeaker van.
MISS PRYCE. You know, I think all the servants must be asleep.
LADY WESTHOLME. (Off; calling) Mahommed.
HIGGS. (Chuckling) Not after that.
MISS PRYCE. (Getting confidential again) I do hope we’re safe here. Those servants look so wild and fierce. Suppose they were to murder us all one night.
HIGGS. Ah could understand ’em murderin’ ’er ladyship—but what ’ave we done?
MISS PRYCE. They might rob us.
HIGGS. Well, they’re doin’ that already without murderin’ us. (With maliciously assumed apprehension) Of course, they could kidnap us and ’old us to ransom.
(The DRAGOMAN enters quietly Right.)
MISS PRYCE. Kidnap us! How dreadful.
DRAGOMAN. (Moving suddenly between MISS PRYCE and HIGGS; with a beaming smile) You ready go nice walk, ladies and gentlemen?
MISS PRYCE. (Startled) Oh!
LADY WESTHOLME. (Off; calling) Mahommed.
(LADY WESTHOLME enters from the marquee.)
There you are. (She moves below the table.) Didn’t you hear me calling?
DRAGOMAN. Abraham hear someone call Mahommed.
HIGGS. (Moving Left Centre; to LADY WESTHOLME) And ’e put ’is telescope to ’is blind ear.
(SARAH and RAYMOND enter Right and stand down Right. LADY WESTHOLME ignores HIGGS and crosses below him to Centre.)
LADY WESTHOLME. And where are all the servants?
DRAGOMAN. (Moving to Right of LADY WESTHOLME) Bedouin all sleep now. Later wake up, make dinner. But Abraham Christian. Abraham understand Christian ladies and gentlemen like afternoon instructive walk and then drink afternoon tea. You come now?
HIGGS. Ay, we’re coomin’. Coom on, ladies, and be kidnapped.
MISS PRYCE. Mr. Higgs. Don’t say such dreadful things.
LADY WESTHOLME. (Crossing to Right) If you intend to accompany us, Mr. Higgs, I trust that you will curb your facetiousness and allow those better educated than yourself to enjoy the archaeological and historical interests of this place.
(LADY WESTHOLME stalks out Right. MISS PRYCE follows her off. HIGGS stands for a moment, nonplussed, scratching his head. He can think of no riposte. He chuckles and shakes his head.)
HIGGS. Nay—she got me that time.
(HIGGS exits Right. The DRAGOMAN follows him off.)
SARAH. What a circus! Oof! I want a drink. (To RAYMOND) Do you think you can find one?
(RAYMOND crosses and exits to the marquee. There is a silence during which SARAH crosses to Right of MRS. BOYNTON.)
This really is a fantastic place.
(MRS. BOYNTON does not answer.)
(She looks at MRS. BOYNTON, smiles and shrugs her shoulders.) Your son and I have had a very pleasant walk.
(MRS. BOYNTON taps with her stick and does not answer. RAYMOND enters from the marquee carrying a glass of lime juice, which he hands to SARAH.)
Thank you.
(SARAH crosses and exits with the drink Right. RAYMOND moves a step or two after her.)
MRS. BOYNTON. Ray, my dear, it won’t do.
RAYMOND. (Stopping Centre and turning) What won’t do?
MRS. BOYNTON. That girl. I encouraged you to go for a walk with her this afternoon against my better judgement—but I don’t like her. I don’t like the way she runs after you. I should just be barely civil to her and nothing more in future, if I were you.
RAYMOND. That’s impossible.
MRS. BOYNTON. Oh, no, Raymond. You’ll do what I say.
RAYMOND. (Moving Right Centre) I tell you it’s impossible. Sarah and I are friends.
MRS. BOYNTON. (Moving a little and fixing him with her eye) You won’t be friends if I don’t want you to be.
RAYMOND. But I shall—I must.
MRS. BOYNTON. You won’t be friends if I don’t want you to be.
RAYMOND. (Crossing down Left) You—you can’t make me do things like that.
MRS. BOYNTON. Nonsense! You’ve always done what I wanted. (Firmly) You always will. You can’t help yourself.
RAYMOND. But Sarah—it’s different . . .
MRS. BOYNTON. It isn’t different, son. You’ve got to give up Sarah.
RAYMOND. No.
MRS. BOYNTON. You are going to give up Sarah.
RAYMOND. (Moving to Left of the table; his voice high and hysterical) No—no—I won’t do it.
MRS. BOYNTON. I always know what’s best for you. (Forcefully) You’ll keep out of her way in future.
RAYMOND. No. I . . .
MRS. BOYNTON. You’ll keep out of her way. You’ll be rude to her.
RAYMOND. No . . .
MRS. BOYNTON. (With force) You’ll do what I want.
RAYMOND. I—I . . .
MRS. BOYNTON. You’ll do what I tell you.
RAYMOND. (After a pause; dully) Yes. Yes, I suppose so. (He sits Left of the table.)
(SARAH enters Right.)
MRS. BOYNTON. You’ll avoid Sarah King.
RAYMOND. I’ll avoid Sarah King.
MRS. BOYNTON. So that’s settled. You understand? You’re giving up Sarah King.
RAYMOND. I’m giving up Sarah King. (He buries his face in his hands.)
SARAH. (Crossing and standing above the table) Extraordinarily interesting. I’m glad I heard it. Cheer up, Ray—I’m not giving you up.
MRS. BOYNTON. Tell her to go away.
RAYMOND. I . . . Please go away.
SARAH. I’m not going.
MRS. BOYNTON. Tell her to leave you alone.
RAYMOND. I . . . You’d better—leave me alone.
SARAH. Your mother and I are going to have a talk.
RAYMOND. I . . . (He looks at MRS. BOYNTON.)
MRS. BOYNTON. Go away, Raymond.
SARAH. Yes, please go away, Ray.
(RAYMOND rises and exits slowly to the marquee. SARAH and MRS. BOYNTON look at each other.)
What an extraordinary futile and silly old woman you are.
(MRS. BOYNTON quivers.)
Yes, you didn’t expect that. But it’s true. (She moves to Left of the table.) You like to make yourself out a kind of ogre. Really, you’re ludicrous—almost pathetic. Why don’t you give up this silly sadistic business?
MRS. BOYNTON. How dare you speak to me like that?
SARAH. It’s time someone did. It’s time someone showed you what you really are. You’ve wanted to feel powerful, haven’t you—you’ve enjoyed hurting and torturing people? It’s made you feel grand and important. But you’re only a petty little domestic tyrant. You’ve acquired a certain amount of hypnotic influence over your family. But the influence can be broken.
MRS. BOYNTON. Who’s going to break it?
SARAH. I am.
MRS. BOYNTON. You think you’ll get Raymond, do you? I know the sort of girl you are—man mad. Pretending to be professional and all the
time running after some man or other.
SARAH. (Sitting Left of the table, calmly) Saying things like that won’t upset me. I’m going to fight you, Mrs. Boynton.
MRS. BOYNTON. You’ll lose.
SARAH. No, I shall win.
MRS. BOYNTON. You little fool. I’ve got Raymond—I’ve got all of them, like that. (She makes a gesture with her thumb.)
(LENNOX enters Right and sits in the deckchair down Right.)
SARAH. You really are quite incredible—like something in a medical textbook. I shall win all right. I’ve two strong weapons on my side.
MRS. BOYNTON. And what are they?
SARAH. Youth and sex.
MRS. BOYNTON. Aren’t you ashamed to say a thing like that?
SARAH. I love Raymond. I’ll fight for him with every weapon I’ve got.
MRS. BOYNTON. I’m stronger than you are. I’ve experience behind me—years of experience. (With force) I can do things to people’s minds.
SARAH. Yes, you’ve got knowledge—a lot of evil knowledge. But you haven’t got—very long to use it.
MRS. BOYNTON. What do you mean?
SARAH. There’s something else on my side—time. (She rises.)
MRS. BOYNTON. Time?
SARAH. I’m a doctor and I know what I’m talking about. (Slowly) You haven’t got long to live. I give you—at the most—six months.
MRS. BOYNTON. (Badly shaken) Six months? Rubbish!
SARAH. Ask Doctor Gerard if you don’t believe me.
MRS. BOYNTON. (Stricken) Six months . . .
SARAH. It’s the truth. You’ve got an appointment—an appointment you’ll have to keep—an appointment with death. When you’re dead, your family will be free. So you see, death’s on my side, as well as life.
MRS. BOYNTON. (Convulsed with rage) Get out of my sight. Go away.
SARAH. Can’t you stop hating? It’s not too late for that.
MRS. BOYNTON. Get out! Get out! Get out! (She strikes the table with her stick.)
(SARAH looks at MRS. BOYNTON, shakes her head, shrugs her shoulders and exits to the marquee. COPE and NADINE enter down the slope Left, COPE leading.)
NADINE. (As she enters) It’s too hot to walk far. (She moves down Left.)
(COPE moves to the marquee entrance. MRS. BOYNTON says nothing. She sits glaring in front of her and shaking with rage.)
LENNOX. Nadine.
NADINE. Yes? (She signs to COPE to go.)
(COPE exits to the marquee.)
LENNOX. (Rising) Nadine.
(NADINE crosses to LENNOX. MRS. BOYNTON fumbles with the bottles on the table.)
The Mousetrap and Other Plays Page 13