CAST OF CHARACTERS
Captain Scott
Fleming
Kingsley
Johnson
“He was a very gallant gentleman” (from Scott’s notebook)
Interior of a tent. Four figures: Captain Scott, dubbed “Chief, ” and Fleming semi-reclining; Kingsley and Johnson asleep, totally bundled up. All four have their legs in fur bags.
FLEMING
Only twelve miles to go—yet we must wait....
What a snowstorm ... it roves, it tears....Still writing,
Chief?
CAPT. SCOTT
(leafing through his diary)
Yes, it must be done.... It’s forty-four days now since we departed from the pole, and it is the fifth day that we have been held captive by the storm inside this tent, and have no food....
JOHNSON
(sleepily)
Oh....
CAPT. SCOTT
You’re awake? How are you feeling?
JOHNSON
Not too bad.... It’s curious....
It seems as if I’m split into two parts—
one is myself, strong, lucid ... while the other’s
scorbutic, drowsy ... a real sleepyhead....
CAPT. SCOTT
How about a little water?
JOHNSON
No, no thanks....
Another thing: I had a dream when I
was little—I still remember—that my feet,
when I looked down, had turned into the feet of
an elephant, (laughs)
I guess my dream’s come true now. How’s Kingsley?
CAPT. SCOTT
Bad, I gather—he was raving... but now he’s still.
JOHNSON
When we are all back home
we’ll organize a banquet ... what a banquet—
we’ll have a turkey and, above all, speeches,
speeches....
CAPT. SCOTT
I know—you could pass for a turkey yourself, when you get really good and drunk!
Eh, Johnson?
He’s already asleep....
FLEMING
Just think—
twelve miles between us and the coast, the inlet,
where, tilting to one side its hoary masts,
amid blue icebergs waits our ship! I can
see it so clearly!...
CAPT. SCOTT
Well, what can we do,
Fleming? Our luck ran out. That’s all....
FLEMING
And only
twelve miles to go! Chief, I don’t know—what do
you think: after the blizzard has abated,
could we, dragging the sick on sleds behind
us, make it back?...
CAPT. SCOTT
I doubt it....
FLEMING
Right. And if...
If they weren’t there?
CAPT. SCOTT
Forget that....Who knows all
the things one can conceive of.... Would you check the time, my friend.
FLEMING
You’re right, Chief....It is six past one....
CAPT. SCOTT
Oh, well—we can hold out until nightfall....You realize, Fleming—after all, they’re looking for us, coming from the coast to meet us.... Maybe they will stumble on us.... Meanwhile let’s sleep.... It will be easier....
FLEMING
I don’t feel sleepy.
CAPT. SCOTT
In that case, you’ll wake me—say—in an hour. Or else I might just lapse, just lapse.... Oh well, you understand....
FLEMING
Aye, aye, Chief.
(pause)
All three asleep.... Lucky for them.... To whom, then,
can I explain that I am strong and avid,
that I could gobble up not twelve but hundreds
of miles, so stubborn is the life within me.
My hunger and the icy wind have forced
all of my strength into one burning, bursting
mote....And there is nothing in the world
a mote like that cannot achieve....
(pause)
Johnson,
what is it? Do you need some help?
JOHNSON
I’ll manage,
don’t worry.... I’m going outside, Fleming....
FLEMING
Where?
JOHNSON
Oh, I just want to have a look if there
is anything in sight. I may well be
some time....
FLEMING
Take care—don’t lose your bearings in the blizzard....
Gone....A miracle that he’s
still capable of walking, with his feet
already rotting....
(pause)
What a storm! The whole
tent shudders from the snowy din....
KINGSLEY
(delirious)
Oh, Jessie,
my darling—It’s so beautiful.... We’ve seen
the pole, and I have brought you back a penguin.
Here, Jessie—you just take a look how smoo-
smoo-smooth he is ... and how he waddles.... Jessie,
you’re honeysuckle.... (laughs)
FLEMING
Lucky man.... I have
no one to be delirious about....
The Captain has a wife and little son
in London. Kingsley has a fiancée,
almost a widow.... Johnson, I don’t know—
I think his mother....What a notion to
go walking. Funny chap, that Johnson, really.
To him life is a mixture of exploit
and prank....He knows no doubts, his soul is straight as
the shadow of a post on level snow....
A lucky man.... While I must be a coward....
Danger enticed me, but aren’t women enticed
like that by an abyss? My life’s not been
much good....I’ve been a ship’s boy and a diver,
hurled my harpoon upon uncharted seas. Oh,
those years of seafaring, of wandering,
of longing....Few have been the peaceful nights,
the happy days I’ve had from life ... and yet....
KINGSLEY
(delirious)
Come on, come on! That’s it, nice going! Hurry!
Don’t dawdle, shoot—shoot at the goal!...Our Father,
Which art... (mumbles)
FLEMING
And yet I’ve an unbearable
desire to live....Yes, to pursue a ball,
a woman, or the sun or—still more simply—
to eat, to eat a lot, to tear the plump
sardines in golden oil out of their tin....
I want to live so much, it maddens me,
it hurts—to live somehow....
CAPT. SCOTT
What’s that? Who’s there?
What happened?
FLEMING
Nothing, Chief. Everything’s quiet....
Except for Kingsley—he’s delirious....
CAPT. SCOTT
I had a kind of radiant, fearful dream....
Where’s Johnson?
FLEMING
Gone, to have a look if there are
rescuers in sight.
CAPT. SCOTT
How long ago?
FLEMING
By now, I’d say it’s twenty minutes.
CAPT. SCOTT
Fleming,
you really shouldn’t have let him go outside....
However.... Hurry, hurry, help me up—
we’re going out.
FLEMING
I’m sorry, Chief—I thought...
CAPT. SCOTT
No, it is not your fault.
Look at that snow!
(They go out together.)
(pause)
KINGSLEY
(alone, delirious)
Don’t push—I can do it myself....Stop it,
> I don’t need to be pushed....(raises himself up)
Chief, Fleming, Johnson!
Hey, Chief!...No one....Ah yes, I understand—
all three of them are gone. They must have thought
that I was dead already....They have left me,
they have set out....
No! It must be a joke!
Wait, please come back....1 have something to tell you....
I want to tell....So—this is what death means: a
glass entrance ... water ... water ... it’s all clear.
(pause)
(Capt. Scott and Fleming return.)
CAPT. SCOTT
How silly—I can’t use my feet.
Oh, thanks....
No matter. Not much chance of finding Johnson
in any case....You realize what he’s done?
FLEMING
Of course....He weakened, fell—called, helplessly,
perhaps....All this is very frightening....(goes back
into the depths of the tent)
CAPT. SCOTT
(aside)
That’s wrong—he did not call. He only thought
that, being sick, he was a burden to
the rest, and so he left....It was so simple,
so valorous.... My bag is like a rock—
I can’t get into it....
FLEMING
Chief, this is dreadful—
Kingsley is dead....Look at him....
CAPT. SCOTT
My poor Eric!
Why did I have to bring him with me? He was
the youngest one of us....Remember how
he cried when he discovered, at the pole, the
Norwegian flag?...The body can stay here—
don’t touch it....
(pause)
FLEMING
We are left alone now, Chief....
CAPT. SCOTT
But not for long, my friend, but not for long....
FLEMING
The blizzard’s dying down....
CAPT. SCOTT
You know, I was just
thinking—Columbus, for example....True,
he suffered, but, in recompense, discovered
such splendid lands, while we have suffered to
discover only ruinous white deserts—
and still, you know, it had to be....
FLEMING
Well, Chief,
what if we tried to make a go for it?
Only twelve miles, and we’ll be saved....
CAPT. SCOTT
No, Fleming—
I can’t get up....
FLEMING
We have a sled....
CAPT. SCOTT
You’d never
make it with me—I’m heavy. I am better
off here. It’s peaceful. And so is my soul—
like Sunday in a Scottish townlet ... feet
just hurt a little—and often they’re a wee
bit tedious, our slow Sundays....Pity we
don’t have a chess set—we could have....
FLEMING
Yes, pity....
CAPT. SCOTT
Now listen, Fleming—you go by yourself....
FLEMING
And leave you here alone? Weak as you are....
You said yourself you might not last the night....
CAPT. SCOTT
Go on alone. It’s what I want....
FLEMING
But how....
CAPT. SCOTT
I’ll last, I’ll last....You will have enough time
to send them for me when you reach the inlet.
Go on! Perhaps you’ll even meet our men
along the way. I want you to—go on....I
demand it....
FLEMING
Yes, then I shall go, I think....
CAPT. SCOTT
Go on.... What will you take along?
FLEMING
The sled
I do not need....I’ll only take these skis, and
a stick....
CAPT. SCOTT
No, wait—you take another pair....
It seems to me the heel strap on that ski is weak....
Farewell....Give me your hand.... If you—
no, never mind....
FLEMING
My compass.... Damn, it’s broken....
CAPT. SCOTT
Here’s mine—you take it....
FLEMING
Right....
I guess I’m ready....
All right. Good-bye, Chief. I’ll be coming back
with help. No later than tomorrow night....
Be careful not to fall asleep....
CAPT. SCOTT
Farewell....(Fleming leaves.)
Yes, he will make it.... It’s twelve miles....Besides,
the blizzard’s dying down....(pause)
I need to pray....
My diary—here it is, my humble, faithful
prayer book....Think I’ll start in the middle....(reads) “Fifteenth
November: moon is blazing like a bonfire;
and Venus seems a little Japanese
lantern....” (turnspage)
“Bravo for Kingsley. Always looks like
he’s playing—sturdy and light-footed....Problems
with our poor dogs: Gypsy’s gone blind, and Grouse
has vanished: fell into a seal hole, I
imagine....”
“Christmas Eve: today the sky was
lit up by an aurora borealis... (turns page)
“Eighth February: the Pole. Norwegian flag
is sticking from the snow.... We have been beaten.
I’m very sorry for my loyal companions.
And now we must go back.” (turnspage) “Eighteenth of March:
we’re straying. Sleds keep getting stuck. And Kingsley
is going downhill.” “The twentieth: the last of
the cocoa and meat powder.... Johnson’s feet
aren’t well. He’s very cheerful, very lucid.
We still go on discussing, he and I,
what we’ll do afterwards, on our return.”
Well,...Now I must add only that—too bad
the pencil’s broken....
I suppose it is
the most appropriate ending....
Lord, I’m ready.
My life, just like the needle of a compass,
has quivered and has pointed to the Pole—and
Thou art that Pole....
My skis have left their tracks
upon your boundless snows. There’s nothing else.
That’s all there is. (pause)
And in a city park,
back home in London, with some toy or other,
all bathed in sunshine, and with naked knees....
They’ll tell him later on....(pause)
Everything’s quiet.
I picture Fleming on the vast, smooth plain—
he walks and walks, moving his skis ahead
so steadily—one, two ... he’s disappearing....
And I’m no longer hungry....Such great weakness,
such quietude is rippling through my body....(pause)
It’s probably delirium....I hear....
I hear.... Can it really be possible?
They’ve found us, here they come ... our men ... our men....
Keep calm, Captain, keep calm....No, it is not
delirium, not the wind. I clearly hear
snow creaking, movement, steps upon the snow.
Keep calm ... must rise ... must meet them....Who is there?
FLEMING
It’s Fleming....
CAPT. SCOTT
Ah, the blizzard has died down— hasn’t it?...
FLEMING
Yes, it’s cleared up. The wind has stopped, (sits down)
The outside of our tent is all aglitter,
powdered with snow....
CAPT. SCOTT
Say, d
o you have a knife?
My pencil’s broken. Thanks, this will do fine.
I have to make an entry that you’re back.
FLEMING
And you can add that Johnson isn’t.
CAPT. SCOTT
It’s
one and the same....
(pause)
FLEMING
Our tent will not be hard
to notice, it shines so....
Oh, by the way,
about Johnson: I came across his body.
He’d dug into the snow, face down, his hood
thrown back....
CAPT. SCOTT
It seems a pity, but I do
not think I can write more....Now, listen—can
you tell me for what reason you came back....
Man From the USSR & Other Plays Page 20