by Tom Stoppard
AGNES: A whole man –
FLORA: I’m not interested in half a man, I said –
AGNES: You’re right.
FLORA: Or three-quarters – a complete man is what I want. I want the lot and I can get it. I said to him – I don’t care about how you look without them – though he did look horrible – that’s not the point, it’s the principle –
AGNES: That’s it, I wouldn’t have a man without them on principle –
FLORA: Because if they’ve gone already, what’ll go next, I said.
AGNES: That’s the point.
FLORA: (Pause; sighs) Mind you, I was sorry. Six months later mine turned black. I would’ve had anybody.
(They sigh.
The door to Mary’s office opens. MARY is there. Behind her GEORGE comes out of the surgery into the office, followed by HARRY. GEORGE is a stricken man.)
MARY: Er … who was next?
(AGNES and FLORA start telling each other to go first.
We move through to GEORGE and HARRY.
GEORGE moves. MARY turns to let him go by, but in the doorway –)
(Cool) Did you say you’d be late again tonight?
HARRY: Same boat – It’s dressmaking tonight … I wonder what she does with all the dresses she makes …
(GEORGE is going.)
Oh – by the way – I was going to catch up on the paperwork today – I was wondering if I could ask Mary to stay behind a while – as she knows the ropes … Would you mind, Mary –?
MARY: Oh no, that’ll be all right – George is out tonight, he’s tied up.
HARRY: Well, take care, George – and don’t forget – daily massage, get in there with the woodpoints.
(GEORGE turns to face the patients, who all stare at him with blank faces. GEORGE lets out a thin smile which is more like a wince. His middle tooth is missing. At this, all the patients smile at him, as one of their own. All around there are smiles like broken-down brooms.)
ANOTHER MOON CALLED EARTH
CHARACTERS
PENELOPE
BONE
ALBERT
CROUCH
TV COMMENTATOR
Another Moon Called Earth was first transmitted in June 1967 by the BBC. The cast included:
PENELOPE Diane Cilento
BONE John Wood
ALBERT John Bennett
CROUCH Donald Eccles
PRODUCER Graeme McDonald
DIRECTOR Alan Gibson
1. INT. BONE’S STUDY. DAY
BONE is working.
PENELOPE: (Off-camera, distant) Dah-ling!
(BONE takes no notice.)
Dah-ling….
(He has heard but won’t respond.)
Help! Fire! Murder!
BONE: (Murmurs) Wolf …
PENELOPE: Wolves! Look out!! Rape! Rape! Rape!
BONE: Not the most logical of misfortunes.
PENELOPE: Go away, you brute! Don’t force me! My husband will kill us both!
BONE: I do not insist on plausibility –
PENELOPE: Because I love him.
BONE: Logic is all I ask.
PENELOPE: Oooooh … aaaah … I can’t fight you any more – It’s too lovely – oh – don’t stop – ah – I don’t care if he comes in –
(BONE weakens, cracks and breaks. He slams down his pen, marches to her room.)
2. INT. PENELOPE’S ROOM. DAY
TV set shows ceremonial parade.
PENELOPE: I think you owe me an apology.
BONE: Penelope, you know I can’t have my work interrupted –
PENELOPE: Here you are, at the gallop – not bearing buckets of water – by no means with a poker raised to my defence –
BONE: Where’s Pinkerton?
PENELOPE: – not a trace of aniseed dusted on your trousers to lure away the pack – oh no –
BONE: For God’s sake –
PENELOPE: As far as you’re concerned, credibility begins with the thought of my unfaithfulness –
BONE: Penelope –
PENELOPE: How dare you?
BONE: I’m sorry –
PENELOPE: If that’s what you think of me –
BONE: I don’t – not for a moment did I think –
(They have been competing with the television music. BONE turns it off. The music continues, fainter, but more real.)
PENELOPE: Do you mind? there’s going to be a commentary –
(BONE goes to the window. The music drifts up. BONE stares down.)
BONE: A parade …
PENELOPE: A parade …! Where’ve you been for the last ten days?
BONE: Oh yes … the moon man. He’s come back …
PENELOPE: The moon man? You make him sound like a piece of cheese. Don’t you see he was the first? He’s changed everything.
BONE: Well, he didn’t discover it, after all. We all knew it was there. Nor did he have to navigate. He just – sat, really. And somebody had to be first. One thing leads to another; the last thing led to the moon. Logic. (Peering out) I can’t see him … He must come near the end …
PENELOPE: You’re such a fool – you should be down there cheering with all the rest. Can’t you see he’s smashed through?
(BONE closes the window. He turns back from the window.)
BONE: A cargo. He might have been a piece of cheese. He used to be a monkey. Before that he was a television camera. Now he is a man – but still a cargo. He sat. What else did he do?
PENELOPE: Isn’t that enough? He stood off the world with his feet on solid ground, and brought everything into question – because up till then the world was all there was – and always had been – it was us and we were it – and every assumption was part of the world which was all there was, and is no longer –
(He stares at her, uncomprehending.)
BONE: What did you want me for?
PENELOPE: I can’t remember.
BONE: Well, I’ll …
PENELOPE: I can’t remember.
BONE: Well, I’ll …
(PENELOPE remembers.)
PENELOPE: The window …
(BONE goes to the window and opens it.)
I wanted you to close the window …
(BONE goes back and closes it.)
BONE: Penelope, I’ve go to get on with my work.
PENELOPE: History! Do you think history matters now?
BONE: I do not write history, I dissect it – lay bare the logic which other men have taken to be an arbitrary sequence of accidents.
PENELOPE: Read me what you’ve done today.
BONE: You think in quantities. I am not a typist.
PENELOPE: You don’t care that I’m ill.
BONE: Where’s Pinkerton?
PENELOPE: I don’t know.
BONE: It’s her job to look after you.
PENELOPE: I let her go out to watch the parade.
BONE: She would have had a better view from the window. (He moves.)
PENELOPE: Play with me – just till Albert comes.
BONE: Is he coming again?
PENELOPE: Why shouldn’t he come?
BONE: Why should he?
PENELOPE: You resent me having visitors?
BONE: You don’t have visitors. You have Albert. He never comes to see me.
PENELOPE: There’s nothing the matter with you.
BONE: I don’t like him.
PENELOPE: You don’t know him.
BONE: So you entertain a man I don’t even know?
PENELOPE: Entertain?
BONE: What am I supposed to think?
PENELOPE: What do you think?
BONE: I make no judgements. I’m asking you.
PENELOPE: Asking me what?
BONE: What would you think in my position?
PENELOPE: I don’t think I like your tone. Albert is a very dear friend, and it is natural that I should ask him to come and see me. You have never bothered to emerge from your cave to introduce yourself and now you ask why you don’t know him.
B
ONE: I can put two and two together, you know. Do not think you are dealing with a man who has lost his grapes. Putting two and two together is my speciality. I did not fail to notice it when you began to receive visits from a handsome stranger who arrived once or twice a week with an air of quiet expectation, to leave an hour later looking more than a little complacent –
PENELOPE: Albert’s been coming to see me for months.
BONE: I did not leap to any hasty conclusion – I do not deal in appearances, suspicions or wild surmise. I bide my time and examine the evidence. But ten days ago you took to your bed and remained there for no reason that has declared itself, while at the same time, the stranger, Albert by name, began calling every day. So I think it’s time we had this out. There is no doubt a logical explanation. (Starts to pace.) We have on the one hand, that is to say in bed, an attractive married lady whose relations with her husband are, at their highest, polite, and have been for some time. We have, on the other hand, daily visits by a not unhandsome stranger who rings the doorbell, is admitted by Pinkerton and shown into the lady’s bedroom, whence he emerges an hour or so later and lets himself out. Now let’s see, does anything suggest itself? Wife in bed, daily visits by stranger. What inference may one draw?
PENELOPE: Sounds to me that he’s the doctor.
BONE: Doctor?
PENELOPE: What the hell did you think he was?
BONE: You mean you’re ill?
PENELOPE: Good grief …
BONE: But he came before and you weren’t ill then.
PENELOPE: How do you know? Perhaps I was being brave. You don’t care! All you can do is accuse me –
BONE: Really, Penelope, I never –
PENELOPE: How could you –?
BONE: I made no accusations – I merely –
PENELOPE: You don’t care that I’m not well –
BONE: How was I supposed to know you weren’t well! I didn’t know he was a doctor.
(She turns on the TV.)
TV COMMENTATOR: … and what a magnificent occasion it is! Not even the rain can dampen the spirit here today as the people of London pay their homage to the lunanaut … and here comes the second rank of the Household Cavalry – I can see the glint of their brass as they come up out of Whitehall into the square, followed by the massed bands of the Royal Air Force – Well, we still have some way to go before the high point of the procession, the golden capsule itself, reaches us here at – And here comes the fly-past of – (Jets roar in and whine away.
BONE heads for the door. PENELOPE switches off the set.)
PENELOPE: Darling … play with me …
BONE: I can’t … I’m so behind …
PENELOPE: Oh, play with me.
(The jets reach the house, roar overhead and whine away.)
BONE: You don’t mean –? Do you mean? – Oh, Penelope …
(He reaches for her. She disengages herself peevishly.)
PENELOPE: Oh, stop it! I meant play games.
BONE: Games.
PENELOPE: Amuse me. Jolly me along.
BONE: That’s what Pinkerton’s for.
PENELOPE: I got rid of her. Actually.
BONE: What do you mean?
PENELOPE: Gave her the push.
BONE: You didn’t.
PENELOPE: This morning.
BONE: Why?
PENELOPE: Sudden impulse.
BONE: You can’t.
PENELOPE: Did.
BONE: You must have had a reason.
PENELOPE: Felt like it.
BONE: A reason –
PENELOPE: Thirty-four years – suddenly it was quite enough.
BONE: She was your nanny – part of the family –
PENELOPE: Serve her right.
BONE: You can’t just throw your old nanny into the street!
PENELOPE: Did. Well, she always won.
BONE: Won what?
PENELOPE: Everything! Every damn thing. Cards, noughts and crosses, charades – she had a mean winning streak, old Pinkers, so out she went.
BONE: I’m shocked.
PENELOPE: You’d think she’d have known something about the psychology of being a patient – but oh no! ‘Oh, Penny, look at me, I’ve won again!’
BONE: What was behind it? – No such thing as pure impulse – Yes, I’m shocked. And you need someone – I can’t stop to – If you’re going to stay in bed there’s got to be someone –
PENELOPE: Albert will get me somebody. Albert would do anything for me.
BONE: Why, what do you do for him?
PENELOPE: Play with me.
BONE: What exactly is the matter with you?
PENELOPE: It hasn’t got a name yet. I’m the first person to have it.
BONE: Measles? Yellow fever? Gastroenteritis? – what’s the matter with you?
PENELOPE: Nothing, in here. I’m all right in bed.
BONE: I’ve got to work.
PENELOPE: Tell me about it!
BONE: Tell you …?
PENELOPE: Entrance me! What are you on now?
BONE: I’m still on the Greeks.
PENELOPE: The Greeks! Warriors and poets! Lovers! Philosophers! Extending knowledge and empire – the rule of law and democracy! – sculptors in marble and gods in the image of man!
BONE: Yes, those Greeks.
PENELOPE: How far have you got?
BONE: The third century.
PENELOPE: You’re catching up!
BONE: BC.
PENELOPE: Oh. But you’ve done the Etruscans.
BONE: Yes.
PENELOPE: The Etruscans! Mysterious shadows in the warm Italian stones that guard the secret of a vanished culture – a civilization under the olive hills!
BONE: (Rises) Which explains nothing.
PENELOPE: Play! Here then – just one go. [Pencils and paper.] I’ll be crosses, you be noughts.
BONE: Are you better today?
PENELOPE: I’m keeping my spirits up. Albert says that’s the main thing.
BONE: Do you like him?
PENELOPE: He’s all right in his way.
BONE: What way is that?
PENELOPE: Oh, you know.
BONE: No. What does he do?
PENELOPE: He’s a doctor.
BONE: I mean –
PENELOPE: Three crosses! I won. You’re better than Pinkerton.
BONE: I thought –
PENELOPE: At losing. Keep it up – remember what happened to her. (BONE looks at her.)
Only teasing, darling. Again!
BONE: Why does he bring you flowers?
PENELOPE: I’m a private patient.
BONE: You must be paying him a fortune.
PENELOPE: I’ve got a fortune.
BONE: Well, you never earned it, any more than me!
PENELOPE: Never said I did. But my daddy earned it more than your daddy earned it. Your go.
BONE: What does he do to you, Albert?
PENELOPE: He keeps my spirits up. My trouble is psychosomatic, you see.
BONE: Is it?
PENELOPE: Yes. I haven’t actually got it, you see.
BONE: Got what!
PENELOPE: I’ve just got the symptoms.
BONE: Hysterical.
PENELOPE: Hilarious.
BONE: I meant –
PENELOPE: I’ve won again! Let’s play battleships. Pinkerton sank my entire fleet in three minutes. That’s really what did it, you know.
BONE: I think you should get up.
PENELOPE: I can’t. I’ve lost the use of my legs.
(She is preparing battleship papers.)
BONE: That was very sudden.
PENELOPE: No it wasn’t. It was very gradual. There, that’s yours. Mark it one to eight down and A to H across. You’re allowed four submarines, three destroyers, two cruisers and an aircraft-carrier. Put them anywhere you like.
BONE: I know how to play. (He marks his paper.) If you’re not going to get any better we’ll have to change your doctor.
PENELOPE: There�
��s no question of my getting better. I can only hope to hold my own.
BONE: Does he ever mention me?
PENELOPE: Mmmmmm, he says you’re only half a man.
BONE: That’s a filthy lie and you know it! – I am constantly repulsed –
PENELOPE: … because every time he comes, he sees half of you, peering through the door. C-four.
BONE: What?
PENELOPE: C-four. Have I hit anything?
BONE: Oh. No.
PENELOPE: Your go.
BONE: B-six.
PENELOPE: No. G-two.
BONE: Submarine.
PENELOPE: Pow! Starboard torpedo away, sir! … Boom!
(Distant gun booms.)
We’ve got her! By George, we’ve got her! The sea is boiling and here she comes up like a great wounded whale, and the conning tower flies open and little men are jumping into the sea! Depth charges! Let go number one! Let go number two! – Boom!
(Distant gun again.
BONE rises.
Third gun.)
BONE: What was that?
PENELOPE: The salute … Now they’re saluting him …
(Music in.)
BONE: Are they going round the block?
PENELOPE: No! – the procession is miles long. They’ve got eighteen different military bands and then there’s the tanks and everything, and the rocket-carrier with the capsule and the lunanaut … I want to see him – his face – I want to see if it shows, what he has seen.
BONE: What?
PENELOPE: God, is it only me? I tell you, he has stood outside and seen us whole, all in one go, little. And suddenly everything we live by – our rules – our good, our evil – our ideas of love, duty – all the things we’ve counted on as being absolute truths – because we filled all existence – they’re all suddenly exposed as nothing more than local customs nothing more – because he has seen the edges where we stop, and we never stopped anywhere before –
BONE: Penelope –
PENELOPE: I’m telling you – when that thought drips through to the bottom, people won’t just carry on. The things they’ve taken on trust, they’ve never had edges before.
(Jets scream over the house and whine away into the distance.)
BONE: Oh come on now … Er, G-five.
PENELOPE: Nothing. H-three.
BONE: Nothing. A-four.
PENELOPE: Nothing. B-seven.
BONE: Nothing. E-six.
PENELOPE: Nothing. C-two.