The Tragedy of Mister Morn

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The Tragedy of Mister Morn Page 11

by Vladimir Nabokov


  And my blessèd parrot is calm as a vision.

  KLIAN:

  That bird dazzles my eyes… Please understand,

  they will descend upon us now—there is

  no way out!…

  DANDILIO:

  I sense no danger:

  a blind rumour blown in from the south,

  that the King is alive, has intoxicated

  souls with an unheard-of joy; the city is so

  tired of executions that, having finished

  with Tremens, the chief madman, they will

  hardly start searching for his accomplices.

  KLIAN:

  You think so? Yes, it’s true, the sun is shining…

  And the gunshots have died down… Shall I open

  the window, shall I look out? Eh?

  DANDILIO:

  Moreover,

  I have this little thing… shall I show you?

  Here, in this soft case… My talisman…

  Here, look…

  KLIAN:

  The crown!

  DANDILIO:

  Wait, you’ll drop it…

  KLIAN:

  Do you hear?… O, God… Someone… On the stairs…

  Ah!

  DANDILIO:

  I said you’d drop it!

  [Enter TREMENS.]

  TREMENS:

  Golden thunder!

  I’m touched! But in vain were you preparing

  to crown me. Congratulate me, Klian: half

  a kingdom is promised for my bald pate!…

  [to DANDILIO]

  Tell me, blithe old man, when and how

  did you come by that piece of lustre?

  DANDILIO:

  One

  of those who searched the palace sold it to me

  for a gold coin.

  TREMENS:

  Well, well… Give it here. It fits.

  But I confess, right now, I would prefer

  a nightcap. Where is Ella?

  DANDILIO:

  Nearby. She’s sleeping.

  TREMENS:

  Ah… good. Klian, why are you whining?

  KLIAN:

  I can’t… Tremens, Tremens, why did I follow

  you? You are death, you are the abyss!

  We will both perish.

  TREMENS:

  You’re absolutely right.

  KLIAN:

  My friend, my leader… You are the wisest of all.

  Save me—and Ella… Teach me—what should

  I do?… My Tremens, what should I do?

  TREMENS:

  What should you do? Sleep. I shiver once more;

  once more that naked concubine—fever—

  clings to my stomach with her cold thighs,

  strokes, strokes my back with her icy palms…

  Give me something to throw over my shoulders,

  old man. That’s it. Yes, my dear Klian,

  I am convinced that our friends were right

  when they warned us that… By the way,

  I executed all four of them—

  they tried to betray me… All I needed!

  I am going to sleep. Let the soldiers

  find me themselves.

  KLIAN: [cries out]:

  Ah!…

  DANDILIO:

  Don’t shout…

  don’t. There. I knew that would happen.

  [ELLA enters from the right.]

  TREMENS:

  My daughter, Ella, do not fear: all is well!

  Klian here is singing his latest poems…

  ELLA:

  Father, are you wounded? There’s blood.

  TREMENS:

  No.

  ELLA:

  Your hand is once more, once more cold…

  and your nails, they look as though you’ve eaten

  wild strawberries… I will stay here, Dandilio…

  I will lie down, give me a pillow… Really

  I feel better… All night they fired… My child

  cried… But where is your cat, Dandilio? …

  DANDILIO:

  Some prankster struck it with a stone bottle…

  Otherwise I would not have bought the parrot…

  ELLA:

  Yes, the fiery one… Yes, I do

  recall… We drank to its health… Ah!

  [laughs]

  “And yet I fear you… For you are fatal then…”

  —where is that from? Where’s it from? No,

  I have forgotten.

  KLIAN:

  Enough… Ella… my love…

  close your eyes…

  ELLA:

  … You are as pale as a fresh

  pine-board… and droplets of resin… I don’t

  like it… Go away…

  KLIAN:

  Forgive me… I won’t, I just…

  I wanted to fix your pillow… There…

  [He sinks down at her bedside.]

  TREMENS:

  What was I saying? Yes, they search badly;

  there, around the senate, around the palace,

  the people crowd about, cleaning the royal

  chambers, airing the carpets, and sweeping up

  my cigarette butts and Ella’s hairpins…

  Very amusing! And what an amusing rumour,

  that apparently a burglar—somewhere in the south,

  you see—climbed into the house and whacked

  the owner on the head—who, in turn,

  if you please, turned out to be that very ruler

  who abandoned his city half a year ago…

  I know, I know, these are all fantasies. But

  with just such a fantasy they swept me aside.

  There, Ella sleeps. It’s also time for me…

  The chill strokes, creeps up my back… But

  it’s a shame, Dandilio, that the imaginary

  thief did not destroy the made-up king!…

  You laugh? Do I joke well?

  DANDILIO:

  Yes, poor Ganus!

  He was unlucky…

  TREMENS:

  What do you mean—Ganus?

  DANDILIO:

  Well, he received the letter… Ella told me…

  How well the poor girl sleeps… Klian,

  cover her feet with something…

  TREMENS:

  Listen, listen,

  Dandilio, perhaps amongst your antique toys,

  your dusty knick-knacks, your magic books,

  you have half a dozen good warm shirts?

  Lend them to me…

  DANDILIO:

  I would have given them

  to you sooner, but they would have been

  too small for you… What is it you want to say?

  TREMENS:

  Once, Dandilio, we were friends, we argued

  about art… Then I became a widower…

  Then the revolt—the first one—enthralled me,

  and we met less frequently… I am not inclined

  to idle sentimentality, but in the name

  of that distant friendship, I ask you,

  tell me clearly, what do you know of the King!…

  DANDILIO:

  What, have you not understood? It was all

  so simple. Once, four years ago, having

  come to your house, I lingered in the hall

  amongst the coat-hangers, in the rough darkness,

  and two people entered; I heard their quick

  whispers: “My sovereign, it is dangerous, he is

  an unrestrained rebel…” The other laughed

  in response and whispered: “You wait downstairs,

  I won’t be long.” And again quiet laughter…

  I hid. After a minute, he left and, slapping

  his glove, ran down the stairs—your carefree guest…

  TREMENS:

  I recall… of course… How did I not connect…

  DANDILIO:

  You were immersed in dusky thoughts. I kept

  sil
ent. We saw each other rarely: I don’t like

  cold and gloomy people. But I remembered…

  Four years passed—I still remembered; and then,

  when I met Morn at those recent parties,

  I recognized the laughter of the King… Then,

  when on the day of the duel you substituted…

  TREMENS:

  Wait, wait, you noticed that too?

  DANDILIO:

  Yes,

  my eyes have grown used to chance details

  in diligently tracing the trails of little beetles

  and the scratches on the surface of antique

  furniture, of peeling paint, the specks of dust

  on nameless canvases.

  TREMENS:

  And you kept silent!

  DANDILIO:

  Of the two hearts, dearer to me was his

  whose passion was keener. There is a third heart:

  look—with what sorrow and tenderness,

  not characteristic of him, does Klian

  gaze on dreaming Ella, as though his fear

  has gone to sleep with her…

  TREMENS:

  O, it amuses me

  that, secretly from me, my very thought

  and will had been at work, that after all,

  I myself, with my own hand, sent death,

  albeit an illusive one, to the King!

  And secretly, I was not mistaken in Ganus:

  he was the blind weapon of a blind man…

  I don’t complain! With a cold curiosity

  I examine those cunning patterns—causes

  and consequences—upon the bright blade

  placed against my chest… I am happy

  that, even for a moment, I taught people

  the sweet anarchy of destruction… No,

  my lesson will not pass without a trace!

  That is to say, there is no thought, no

  momentary weakness, which does not

  reveal itself in a future action: the King

  will clearly deceive again…

  KLIAN:

  You’ve woken up?

  Sleep, Ella, sleep. It’s frightening to think,

  Ella…

  TREMENS:

  O, it amuses me! If I had known

  all this, I would have shouted to the people:

  “Your king is a weak and shallow man. There is

  no fairy tale, there’s only Morn!”

  DANDILIO:

  Don’t,

  Tremens, be quiet…

  ELLA:

  Morn and… the King?

  Is that what you said, father? The King in a blue

  carriage,—no, not that… I danced with Morn—

  no… wait… Morn…

  DANDILIO:

  Enough, he was joking…

  TREMENS:

  Klian, keep quiet, don’t sob!… Listen, Ella…

  DANDILIO:

  Ella, can you hear us?

  TREMENS:

  Is her heart beating?

  DANDILIO:

  Yes. It will pass soon.

  TREMENS:

  Her eyes are open…

  She can see. Ella! A pillar of salt… I didn’t

  know such fainting fits were possible…

  KLIAN:

  Voices!

  In the street… It’s them!

  TREMENS:

  Yes. We were expecting them…

  Let’s have a look…

  [Opens the window. VOICES can be heard from the street below.]

  FIRST VOICE:

  … the house.

  SECOND VOICE:

  Right! He can’t get out.

  Do we have all the exits?

  FIRST VOICE:

  All of them…

  TREMENS:

  May as well close it…

  [Closes the window.]

  KLIAN [rushing around]:

  Save me… quickly…

  Dandilio… anywhere… I want to live… quick…

  if only there was time… Ah!

  [Rushes out of the room through the door on the right.]

  TREMENS:

  Could this be the end?

  DANDILIO:

  Yes, it seems so.

  TREMENS:

  I’ll go out to them,

  so Ella doesn’t see. What do you feed

  this orange bird?

  DANDILIO:

  He likes little ants’ eggs,

  raisins… Nice, isn’t he? You know, try

  the attic, and then the roof…

  TREMENS:

  No, I’ll go.

  I’m tired…

  [He goes towards the door, opens it, but the CAPTAIN and four of his SOLDIERS push him back into the room.]

  CAPTAIN:

  Stop! Get back!

  TREMENS:

  Yes, yes—

  I am Tremens; but let’s talk in the street…

  CAPTAIN:

  Get back. There.

  [to a SOLDIER]

  Search both of them.

  [to DANDILIO]

  Your name?

  DANDILIO:

  There, you’ve spilled my tobacco, oh dear!

  Who looks for a man’s name in his snuffbox?

  May I offer you some?

  CAPTAIN:

  Are you the master here?

  DANDILIO:

  Indeed.

  CAPTAIN:

  And who is this?

  DANDILIO:

  A sick girl.

  CAPTAIN:

  You shouldn’t have concealed a criminal here…

  TREMENS [with a yawn]:

  I ran in here by chance.

  CAPTAIN:

  Are you Tremens, the rebel?

  TREMENS:

  I want to sleep. Hurry…

  CAPTAIN:

  By the order issued

  by the senate today, the nineteenth of June,

  you are here and now to be… Hey! There is

  someone else in there.

  [to the SOLDIERS]

  Hold them.

  I’ll take a look…

  [Leaves by the door on the right. TREMENS and DANDILIO talk amongst themselves, surrounded by mute, almost lifeless SOLDIERS.]

  TREMENS:

  How he dawdles…

  I want to sleep.

  DANDILIO:

  Yes, we shall soon sleep well…

  TREMENS:

  We? Please, they will not touch you.

  Do you fear death?

  DANDILIO:

  I love all this: shadows,

  light, the specks of dust in a ray of sunshine;

  these pools of light on the floor; and large books

  that smell of time. Death is curious, I don’t

  dispute…

  TREMENS:

  Ella’s like a doll… What’s wrong with her?

  DANDILIO:

  Yes, this won’t do.

  [to a SOLDIER]

  Listen to me, my brother,

  take this sick girl here to the bedroom, and after

  we’ll send for the doctor. What, are you deaf?

  TREMENS:

  Leave him. It’s not necessary. They’ll dispatch me,

  somewhere to the side,—she won’t even see.

  Dandilio, you spoke of the sun… It’s strange,

  it seems to me we are alike, but in what way

  I cannot comprehend… Let’s settle it now.

  Do you accept death?

  DANDILIO:

  Yes. Matter must decay

  for matter to be resurrected—and from that,

  the Trinity is clear to me. In what way?

  Space is God, and matter is Jesus, and time

  is the Holy Ghost. Hence my conclusion:

  a world made up of these three,—our world—

  is divine…

  TREMENS:

  Yes, continue.

  DANDILIO:

  Do you hear

  what trampling there is in my rooms? Thos
e

  are boots!

  TREMENS:

  All the same, our world…

  DANDILIO:

  … is divine;

  and therefore all is happiness; and so we must

  all sing as we work: to live in this world

  means to work for the master in three forms:

  space, matter, and time. But the work ends

  and we depart to the eternal feast, having

  given our memory to time, our image

  to space, and our love to matter.

  TREMENS:

  You see—

  fundamentally I agree. But I don’t need

  the slavery of happiness. I rebel,

  rebel against the master! Do you hear!

  I call on all to drop their work! Head off

  to the eternal feast: there in blissful

  abysses we will rest.

  DANDILIO:

  They’ve caught him. A cry.

  TREMENS:

  I had forgotten Klian…

  [KLIAN bursts in from the right.]

  KLIAN:

  Ah! A trap!

  They’re here too!

  [Flings himself back into the room on the right.]

  ELLA [raising herself up]:

  Morn… Morn… Morn…

  It is as though I heard a voice in my sleep:

  Morn is the King…

  [Becomes still again.]

  VOICE OF CAPTAIN [in the room to the right, the door of which remains open]:

  Enough of this rushing

  around the rooms!

  VOICE OF KLIAN:

  I beg you…

  VOICE OF CAPTAIN:

  Your name!

  VOICE OF KLIAN:

  I beg you… I am young… I am so young!

  I am great, I am a genius! They don’t

  kill geniuses!…

  VOICE OF CAPTAIN

  Answer the question!

  VOICE OF KLIAN:

  My name is Klian… But I will serve the King…

  I swear… I know where the crown is… I’ll give it

  back… I swear…

  VOICE OF CAPTAIN:

  Stop grabbing at my calves,

  I’ll shoot a hole in my boot.

  VOICE OF KLIAN:

  Have merc— …!

  [A gunshot. TREMENS and DANDILIO, surrounded by motionless SOLDIERS, continue their conversation.]

  TREMENS:

  Space is God, you say. Excellent. That is

  the explanation for wings, those wings with which

  we populate heaven…

  VOICE OF KLIAN:

  Ah!… There is no end,

  no end…

  VOICE OF CAPTAIN:

  He’s full of life, the wretch.

  DANDILIO:

  Yes.

  We are stirred by swift flights, by wheels, sails,

  and—in childhood—by games and, in our youth,

  by dances.

  […][1]

  Scene II

  [MORN and EDMIN with the FOREIGNER and other GUESTS.]

  [MORN]:

  […]*[2]

  Those killed by a bullet to the heart ought not

  to be beaten by gossip’s petty pellets…

  This evening will be blue, like three hundred

  July days, condensed and thickened into darkness,

 

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