Plays One
Page 35
Silence.
GRACE (quietly). Then take that pistol and shoot him through the head. For is that not what they do to sick animals? And tell him from me, ’tis offer of death more humane than ever he has dealt in.
It is JANE who turns with the purpose of doing so. ROSE remains, stunned by GRACE’s change in attitude.
URSULA places her hand on JANE’s arm to restrain her.
ROSE. Oh take heart, Jane, he has yet to escape his fate. He’ll not get far tied and bound. Cold and dripping.
GRACE. Aye, then, so be it, let nature deal with him in her own way.
Scene Nine
The pond.
Night. The dummy has been replaced by the PRICKER, tied in the manner described and shivering uncontrollably. A WOMAN approaches.
MAN. Mother? Is that you?
She comes closer.
Oh, Mother, what has kept you so long?
MOTHER. The hardest hours of my life, far harder than the few before you were born.
MAN. Untie me, Mother. I shall perish of cold.
MOTHER. How many times have you done the same for me, son?
She turns.
MAN. Don’t leave me.
MOTHER (turns back). And still you show no remorse.
MAN. Hurry. Please hurry, Mother.
MOTHER. Have you no word of shame?
MAN. Have I not had all day to think on my plight and shame enough, aye, to know I cannot live here. I will follow my brother to New England and make there a new life for myself.
MOTHER. And what of me?
MAN. You’re to say I died of consumption. You have access to parish register. Therein record my death.
MOTHER. And what of me?
MAN. You can’t let me die. Mother, help me.
MOTHER. The cord which once bound us did not even enter your head whilst you hung many cords around my neck.
MAN. I vouchsafe I will ne’ere show my face here again.
Pause.
MOTHER. You will not return?
MAN. Ne’er, untie me please.
MOTHER (stooping to untie him). I would that you had never been born, but I cannot take life from you.
URSULA (voice over only). We all knew what she’d done and that she aided his passage to Salem, but we never heard of him again and we never spoke of it again. We spoke to her, she was one of us.
Scene Ten
GRACE’s garden.
GRACE’s burial. HELEN and ROSE. LADY H, obscured from their view, is digging the grave.
HELEN. I know it is but small comfort, but Grace does now merit a grave within the churchyard.
ROSE. The comfort is she died peacefully. Was her own wish to be buried in her garden. And we’d best rouse ourselves, for one thing church’ll not be lending us gravediggers.
HELEN. Oh Lady H is seeing to it.
ROSE. Lady H?!
HELEN. I tell you she is turning over a new leaf.
ROSE. She’ll be turning over a site more than that.
They find LADY H who has almost completed the work.
LADY H (wiping her muddy face with an equally muddy hand). Will this do?
HELEN. Thank you very much, Lady H.
LADY H. H only from this day forth. For I am hoping to have proved myself a lady no longer.
ROSE. And thank you all the same. We are waiting now on Jane, and Ursula but I know not where she is.
LADY H. She will be here presently for she wants to pay her own tribute to Grace. I will take my leave now, for I sense it is not my place to be here longer. (Exits.)
HELEN. Thank you.
A fussy little PARSON bumbles breathlessly towards them.
ROSE. Don’t look now but God’s little flea has cam to bug us. (She walks towards him.)
PARSON (breathlessly). You can’t take burial services into your own hands. This place is unconsecrated ground. Do you want for her neighbours to …
ROSE (firmly). To say that she was a wise woman? An outlaw. Aye, I do.
PARSON. I forbid it, in the name of God the Father, God the Son …
ROSE. If God the Father and God the Son care to intervene on their own account that is up to them, but on your own you’ll not be able to sway us.
PARSON. You will bring nothing but an eternity of hell’s fire and damnation on your head.
ROSE. That will be all? Then I’m laughing. (She laughs. He exits. She returns to HELEN.) Still they will not leave us alone.
HELEN. Aye but Grace would’ve approved of manner in which you sent him off. She didn’t want for today to be dreary.
ROSE (sighs). Aye she says ‘Rose is to take form of celebration’ but is not an easy feeling to capture, Grace. Oh, Grace.
HELEN (gently). Why not see if Jane is far off. I will tend to what has to be done.
ROSE walks until HELEN is out of view, and sits by a tree, head in her hands. Enter JANE carrying a metal box.
JANE. Rosie?
ROSE (looks up). What kept you?
JANE. A dog collar with a person inside.
ROSE (smiles). I hope you made him no offer of aid.
JANE. Indeed I did, in form of my foot, but alas he didn’t note it till he was on his face. That is enough talk of parsons. We are here to say farewell to Grace.
ROSE. Seems so final.
JANE. Supposing you’d never known her? Would you have known how to read? Or name the stars? Or tamed a bear? Or written a play? Or been as strong?
ROSE (smiles). So now is the time for supposing?
JANE. Is not her memory a part of our lives and are we not better for it?
ROSE. Aye.
They join HELEN and URSULA for the ceremony. URSULA kneels throughout, and plants various herbs in the fresh earth.
HELEN/ROSE/JANE (sing).
The Burial Song
Death comes swiftly
Life on earth
Is ended, ending
All together we are sending
One another to ourselves
Not forgotten, undertaking
To remember, not forget
Life does end but celebrating
One we knew and won’t forget.
ROSE (reads).
With you I learnt the stars at night
We named the Bear, who gave a fright
At last I see that my disguise
Hid me from men who tell their lies
In bed and gaol and with their blades
Their war, their fear, their rape and raids
Our knowledge we have always shared
With our own sex for whom we cared
Men take from us the power to cure
By brutal means, they make a war
On what we held as our birthright
They cut us up, but we will fight
Not in their wars, dressed up as men,
Not by the pond when they say when,
But by the very deed they fear,
Deny their power to leave us here:
Pause.
HELEN. Grace, your life occurred with the passing of women’s healing to men’s doctoring. Now their inventions continue without intervention. How many charms have we played with to guess at the sex of the unborn child? Their science will conquer the problem and what will become of our sex, for there can be no place in the world where daughters are valued above sons as first-born child. We will miss you not only for your vision, Grace, but for your strength and it is in your memory we struggle to arrest the weapons from the masters’ violent hands.
ROSE. Thank you Helen.
Silence.
HELEN. Rose, now I’m wanting to ask if you’ve had new thought on the school for mid wives.
ROSE. How many times are we to buy back our birthright?
JANE. She’ll not be swayed from teaching girls to read and write.
HELEN. Aye, that will be task enough.
JANE. Lady H has agreed to help us, but Rose has to help her with her education first. Her family have all that money and they know nothing.
&
nbsp; ROSE. You are welcome to join us, Helen.
HELEN. Thank you but I shall carry on with the Quakers.
JANE. Now, that do sound like a good title for your next play, Rose.
HELEN. And what of your play? I hear it is very good?
JANE. Aye and we should know, Ursula and I have learned our writing by copying it out – every word.
HELEN (to ROSE). So you will choose a man’s name?
ROSE. No. My own.
HELEN. No doubt I’ll see it anon then.
JANE (remembering). That’s why I brought this box for copied version to be secured within and buried next to Grace.
ROSE. But it’s not had a life yet.
HELEN. So if it doesn’t cam to pass in your lifetime one day when you’re long gone it’ll be uncovered.
ROSE. But s’pose it never gets unearthed?
JANE (turning to face ROSE). You’re not the only woman in the world, Rose.
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This collection first published in Great Britain in 1991 by Methuen Drama
Reissued with a new cover design 1994
Reissued in this series 1997
Ripen Our Darkness first published as a Methuen New Theatrescript
© 1986, 1991 Sarah Daniels
The Devil’s Gateway first published as a Methuen New Theatrescript
© 1986, 1991 Sarah Daniels
Masterpieces first published in the Royal Court Writers Series in 1984 and as a
Methuen Modern Play in 1986
© 1984, 1986, 1991 Sarah Daniels
‘Snuff’ note © 1983 Dusty Hughes
Neaptide first published as a Methuen New Theatrescript
© 1986, 1991 Sarah Daniels
Byrthrite first published as a Methuen New Theatrescript
© 1987, 1991 Sarah Daniels
Foreword © 1987 Jalna Hanmer
This collection © 1991 Sarah Daniels
Introduction © 1991 Sarah Daniels
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