Being There
Page 10
FRANK LE MESURIER
Tenor
PALFREYMAN, a naturalist
Baritone
JUDD, ex-convict
Baritone
HARRY ROBARTS
Tenor
DUGALD, Aboriginal guide
Mime Parts
JACKY, Aboriginal guide
Mime Parts
MR BONNER, Merchant
Bass
MRS BONNER
Mezzo Soprano
BELLE BONNER, their daughter
Soprano
LAURA TREVELYAN, their niece
Soprano
ROSE PORTION, a servant
Mezzo Soprano
LT. TOM RADCLYFFE, officer, engaged to Belle
Tenor
MR TOPP, Voss’ landlord, a music teacher
Tenor
MERCY, Rose’s child, adopted by Laura
Soprano
A NEWSPAPER REPORTER
Baritone
MRS JUDD
Mezzo Soprano
Act I takes place in Sydney in 1845, Act II in the outback and Sydney, the Epilogue in Sydney in 1865.
ACT I
Sydney: 1845. The action, which is continuous, covers an evening party at the Bonners, Voss’ calling of his followers and, some days later, their departure. The stage is set to provide a single playing area with an onstage piano, a dining table and chairs, with flatware, candlesticks, epergnes, etc. Stone steps on the right lead down to a subtropical garden. When the curtain rises MR BONNER, MRS BONNER, BELLE, TOM, etc, are grouped to the left, LAURA sits on a bench in the garden, right. In the foreground VOSS, seen in silhouette, faces the back full stage, out there, with his arms outstretched. He shouts:
VOSS:
I will cross this country from one side to the other.
I mean to know it with my heart.
It is mine by right of vision.
(As the lights come up, dance music begins: Quadrille: ‘La Sydney’ – William Ellard)
THE PARTY AT THE BONNERS
CHORUS:
Have you ever seen such a scarecrow? Voss, he’s called. Some sort of German. Means to cross the country looking for gold, looking for an inland sea. Have you seen such a scarecrow as Voss? Ah these spring nights in Sydney, our golden city. But did you ever see such a scarecrow? Voss. Some sort of German. Voss. Voss. Voss. Looking for an inland sea, looking for gold. Ah these spring nights in Sydney. Sydney, Sydney. Our golden city. Ah these spring nights. This golden city, Sydney. Sydney.
BONNER:
This, ladies and gentlemen, is Mr Voss.
He is to lead our expedition
into the heart of Australia. It is
a great event.
It may be historical.
TOM:
If they bring back their bones.
It has been shown
that deserts prefer to resist history
and develop along their own lines.
I am inclined to think that you will discover
a few blacks, a few flies, a few rocks,
and something like the bottom of the sea.
VOSS:
Have you walked on the bottom of the sea?
I have. I have been there in my dreams.
That is why I’m fascinated by the prospect before me.
Even if the future is a vast expanse of sand,
of nothingness, of bones.
I am compelled into this country.
BELLE:
Ah, this country!
TOM:*
Of course every man has an obsession. Yours
would appear to be to overcome
great distances, to discover
irredeemable disaster. You will be given
every opportunity out there in the west.
In stones and thorns.
Anyone who is disposed can celebrate
a high old mass
with a blackfeller and his own
blood in Central Australia.
(Quadrille: ‘La Engehurst’ – William Ellard)
CHORUS:
It may be historical. A great event. Historical.
In stones and in thorns. His own
bones. A high old mass.
BELLE:
You may send me a black man’s spear – with blood on it.
(The crowd of dancers, including BELLE and TOM, sweeps off or freezes, leaving VOSS and MR BONNER centre stage, MRS BONNER on one side of the stage, LAURA on the other)
BONNER:
I am behind you, Voss. The world of solid business.
Irish linens and Swiss muslin,
damask and huckaback,
flannel, green baize, Indian twills.
You have seen the sign in the best gold leaf:
Edward Bonner, English Draper.
VOSS:
Nothing could be safer or more solid
than the town where I was born.
A house full of clocks, all striking
at different times. It was the place
I was born in but not where I began.
We are born out of our own destiny.
Not from a womb. And the death
we go to is the one we choose.
I would wander in all weathers
by day, by night, over the heath.
Low windcombed trees under the moon
would snatch at my clothes,
the sand sucked at my boots.
It was never far enough. That world
was as small as a handkerchief.
I knew then that I would set
my boot down on my father’s face, escape
my mother’s hands and leave her
weeping beside the stove. Till the forests
flowed like the sea, the sea, and I arrived
on the underside of the world.
But it was never far enough. My shadow
is always out there,
striding ahead of me.
MRS BONNER:
He is so thin. And lost. He is lost already.
His eyes cannot find their way.
(Quadrille: ‘La Illawarra’ – William Ellard)
BONNER:
And the map, Voss? Have you studied the map?
VOSS:
I do not need a map. The map is in my head.
It is all empty space, all dust, all
rivers without names,
mountains with no place
on the skyline. I have imagined it.
Now it must be found.
It is a country in search of its spirit.
I am that spirit. I will make
my own map. The country
is mine. I have only
to walk into my kingdom.
MRS BONNER:
He is lost. Lost already.
BONNER:
Well, Voss. It is good to have
an opinion. But there are names of course.
The Condamine, the Darling …
VOSS:
Names are nothing. We do not possess things
by giving them a name. We must become them.
We must become them.
We must make the rivers flow out of our side.
We must take the deserts
into the empty places in our lives.
This country is mine by right of vision.
I see it out there because I have already
entered it in dreams and walk there among
its shadows. It is like walking on the bottom of the sea.
I have taken the sound of it into me. It is brass,
it is drunken cymbals …
MRS BONNER:
He is lost. He is lost already.
His eyes cannot find their way.
BONNER:
But men need a map.
VOSS:
(breaking out of his dream) If I fail, Mr Bonner, I will write your name, and your wife’s name, on a paper, seal it in a bottle, and bury it beside me. So that your name will be perpetuated in Australian soil.
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IN THE GARDEN
(LAURA. Enter BELLE)
BELLE:
Ah, Laura, Laura. There you are (they kiss lightly).
I’m so happy, Laura, I wanted to tell someone.
Is it very foolish of me to be so happy?
LAURA:
My darling Belle, we are meant to be happy!
BELLE:
And if I marry Tom and have a house full of children?
Is that to be my life, Laura?
Could I have seen that so clearly?
LAURA:
Yes, you could know it. Our lives are simple.
They announce themselves to us
with amazing clarity.
(BELLE laughs, dances to the sound of distant music. She stops, looks grave)
(Quadrille: ‘La Sydney’ – William Ellard)
BELLE:
And your life, Laura?
LAURA:
Oh, my life will be different. No, not sad!
Just – different.
BELLE:
Laura, you’ve always seemed more like
a sister than a cousin.
Because I’m so happy tonight
I want you to be happy.
LAURA:
I’m myself, Belle, as we all are.
BELLE:
Oh, Laura, Laura, how wonderful you are.
And strong. And –
(She stands at a loss for words, holding her hands out. BELLE moves forward and kisses LAURA on the brow)
LAURA:
They’re dancing again. Your Tom will be looking for you.
Perhaps you could send Rose out with a wrap.
These spring nights can be so cold.
(BELLE hesitates a moment, then goes)
LAURA:
I was alone in the garden.
Rose called. There is a stranger.
I stepped into the house, out of the sunlight,
into a still room. He was there.
So strange. A lightning stroke.
No stranger after all
but the one I had expected. Miss Laura,
Miss Laura, she called, Rose
our awkward, opaque angel.
There’s a stranger, a stranger, and stood
breathing at the door
beside me. I crossed
the threshold. He was there.
VOSS:
(To himself) Laura, Laura, Laura Trevelyan.
She stands there, and here
I stand. There is nothing
between us, only space.
Do I dare to cross it?
Laura. Laura … Miss Trevelyan.
LAURA:
Voss. Johann. Ulrich.
So you are ready to make the crossing.
VOSS:
I have already made it.
Standing back there, watching you,
I thought of an old song I used to sing
in my own country.
LAURA:
Do you sing it still?
VOSS:
Im Felde schleich ich still und wild
Gespannt mein Feuerrohr.
Da schwebt so licht dein liebes Bild,
Dein süsses Bild mir vor.
Du wandelst jetzt wohl still und mild
Durch Feld und liebes Tal,
Und ach, mein schnell verrauschend Bild,
Stellt sich dirs nicht einmal?
Des Menschen der die Welt durchstreift
Voll Unmut und Verdruss
Nacht Osten und nach Westen schweift,
Weil er dich lassen muss.
Mir ist es, denk ich nur an dich,
Als in den Mond zu sehn.
Ein stiller Friede kommt auf mich
Weiss nicht, wie mirs geschehn.*
LAURA:
That was very – German.
VOSS:
There is no translation.
LAURA:
I know. Poems will not bear it.
They remain themselves. We lose
the words but catch the music.
VOSS:
I try to catch your music.
I try to imagine your life in this hive.
Do you make pastry? Do you hem sheets?
I try to imagine your life in the nest.
LAURA:
It is easier for us to imagine your lives.
I imagine you by what I see of you.
I see a desert. Sand. Rocks.
You scatter words
Like torn up bits of paper
But they blow
Away in the vastness of you.
VOSS:
Will you mention me in your prayers?
LAURA:
I do not pray. But I will follow you in spirit.
VOSS:
You do not believe?
LAURA:
Oh, I believe most palpably.
In wood, in good solid tables with reflections in them,
in chests with fingerprints on the knobs,
in sunlight, in water, mathematics –
VOSS:
Mathematics?
LAURA:
In problems that exist for themselves,
to be solved, to be known,
for their own sake.
VOSS:
Laura … Laura …
LAURA:
Voss. Johann … Ulrich …
VOSS:
I will be followed across the continent
by your thoughts.
LAURA:
Like torn up bits of paper.
VOSS:
Now that I know
that you are one of those
who do not pray, your prayers
will come to me.
LAURA:
You scatter words
like torn up bits of paper.
VOSS:
In the desert they will come
like snowflakes to my lips.
LAURA:
Among thorns, among stones.
VOSS:
The snows of my childhood, the snow …
LAURA:
It is cold out here.
VOSS:
People will come to look for us.
We are lost here in this garden.
LAURA:
No. Not lost.
(They stand absorbed in one another)
MRS BONNER:
He is so thin. And lost. He is lost already.
BELLE:
Lost? Who is lost?
TOM:
Don’t be afraid, Belle, my darling, there is no need now
ever to be afraid.
Take my hand. There, feel
its sureness. Reach out
in whatever dark, across whatever space,
whatever silence
Belle, for all our life
together, and for always.
BELLE:
Tom, it is like standing at the threshold
of a new house, all shining
and clean in the spring light, waiting for us
to fill it with voices,
with footsteps, with occasions.
TOM:
Take my hand. There, feel
its sureness.
BELLE:
Take my hand,
lead me into
BOTH:
My life, our life
together and for always.
Belle, my life.
Tom, our life
together and forever.
(VOSS moves to the front of the stage. Behind him, as the scene opens, LAURA, MR and MRS BONNER, BELLE and TOM move to the dining table)
VOSS CALLS HIS FOLLOWERS
(HARRY ROBARTS approaches)
HARRY:
Sir – my lord. It’s me. Harry Robarts.
VOSS:
Harry Robarts. What is it, lad?
HARRY:
Nothing, sir, nothing I came,
that’s all. Harry Robarts.
Take me with you.
I could watch for you, sir, I could carry.
&
nbsp; I can make myself useful,
I can make myself scarce.
I have shoulders and hands,
I would stick to the end,
to the end. Take me with you,
I’ll never ask where.
Some say there is a sea
away there, miles away, deep in the centre
and birds afloat upon it
with white wings, and rivers
pouring out of the hills,
is there such a place, sir?
Could I go there and see it?
I would watch for you, sir, I would carry,
I would stick to the end, to the end.
Take me with you.
I’ll never ask where.
VOSS:
Well, Harry, since you are strong and ready, follow me.
MRS BONNER:
He is lost. Lost already.
His eyes cannot find their way.
BONNER:
There will be others.
Others will hack their way.
(LE MESURIER approaches)
VOSS:
And you, le Mesurier. Will you follow me?
Or have you found some other purpose?
LE MESURIER:
I suspect my purpose will be discovered
with my last drop of blood.
VOSS:
You will come then?
LE MESURIER:
I am not ready yet to cut my own throat.
VOSS:
Have you no hope then?
LE MESURIER:
There is something in me, if I could only hit
upon it. But my whole life has been
a searching of the ways, the ways.
And this colony seems fatal to me.
There are too many prospects.
I am dizzy with them.
How can I make a fortune out of sheep
when there’s a dream of gold
out there, or an inland sea?
But sometimes, sometimes, all these doubts, all
these hesitations, all the worst evil in me
gathers to a core, to a burning light
like the blaze of a desert, and it seems
to me that I may burst into life
at last and bring forth beauty.
O childhood of moonlight and monkey puzzles
and the solid statues. Often
the footsteps were not my own
that fell on the gravel.
Other voices would carry my song
from me. The faces were not
the faces that I knew.