Elizabeth. [Hoarsely.] Oh, but I think that’s — dreadful.
Lady Kitty. Are you shocked? One sacrifices one’s life for love and then one finds that love doesn’t last. The tragedy of love isn’t death or separation. One gets over them. The tragedy of love is indifference.
[Arnold comes in.
Arnold. Can I have a little talk with you, Elizabeth?
Elizabeth. Of course.
Arnold. Shall we go for a stroll in the garden?
Elizabeth. If you like.
Lady Kitty. No, stay here. I’m going out anyway.
[Exit Lady Kitty.
Arnold. I want you to listen to me for a few minutes, Elizabeth. I was so taken aback by what you told me just now that I lost my head. I was rather absurd and I beg your pardon. I said things I regret.
Elizabeth. Oh, don’t blame yourself. I’m sorry that I should have given you occasion to say them.
Arnold. I want to ask you if you’ve quite made up your mind to go.
Elizabeth. Quite.
Arnold. Just now I seem to have said all that I didn’t want to say and nothing that I did. I’m stupid and tongue-tied. I never told you how deeply I loved you.
Elizabeth. Oh, Arnold!
Arnold. Please let me speak now. It’s so very difficult. If I seemed absorbed in politics and the house, and so on, to the exclusion of my interest in you, I’m dreadfully sorry. I suppose it was absurd of me to think you would take my great love for granted.
Elizabeth. But, Arnold, I’m not reproaching you.
Arnold. I’m reproaching myself. I’ve been tactless and neglectful. But I do ask you to believe that it hasn’t been because I didn’t love you. Can you forgive me?
Elizabeth. I don’t think that there’s anything to forgive.
Arnold. It wasn’t till to-day when you talked of leaving me that I realised how desperately in love with you I was.
Elizabeth. After three years?
Arnold. I’m so proud of you. I admire you so much. When I see you at a party, so fresh and lovely, and everybody wondering at you, I have a sort of little thrill because you’re mine, and afterwards I shall take you home.
Elizabeth. Oh, Arnold, you’re exaggerating.
Arnold. I can’t imagine this house without you. Life seems on a sudden all empty and meaningless. Oh, Elizabeth, don’t you love me at all?
Elizabeth. It’s much better to be honest. No.
Arnold. Doesn’t my love mean anything to you?
Elizabeth. I’m very grateful to you. I’m sorry to cause you pain. What would be the good of my staying with you when I should be wretched all the time?
Arnold. Do you love that man as much as all that? Does my unhappiness mean nothing to you?
Elizabeth. Of course it does. It breaks my heart. You see, I never knew I meant so much to you. I’m so touched. And I’m so sorry, Arnold, really sorry. But I can’t help myself.
Arnold. Poor child, it’s cruel of me to torture you.
Elizabeth. Oh, Arnold, believe me, I have tried to make the best of it. I’ve tried to love you, but I can’t. After all, one either loves or one doesn’t. Trying is no help. And now I’m at the end of my tether. I can’t help the consequences — I must do what my whole self yearns for.
Arnold. My poor child, I’m so afraid you’ll be unhappy. I’m so afraid you’ll regret.
Elizabeth. You must leave me to my fate. I hope you’ll forget me and all the unhappiness I’ve caused you.
Arnold. [There is a pause. Arnold walks up and down the room reflectively. He stops and faces her.] If you love this man and want to go to him I’ll do nothing to prevent you. My only wish is to do what is best for you.
Elizabeth. Arnold, that’s awfully kind of you. If I’m treating you badly at least I want you to know that I’m grateful for all your kindness to me.
Arnold. But there’s one favour I should like you to do me. Will you?
Elizabeth. Oh, Arnold, of course I’ll do anything I can.
Arnold. Teddie hasn’t very much money. You’ve been used to a certain amount of luxury, and I can’t bear to think that you should do without anything you’ve had. It would kill me to think that you were suffering any hardship or privation.
Elizabeth. Oh, but Teddie can earn enough for our needs. After all, we don’t want much money.
Arnold. I’m afraid my mother’s life hasn’t been very easy, but it’s obvious that the only thing that’s made it possible is that Porteous was rich. I want you to let me make you an allowance of two thousand a year.
Elizabeth. Oh, no, I couldn’t think of it. It’s absurd.
Arnold. I beg you to accept it. You don’t know what a difference it will make.
Elizabeth. It’s awfully kind of you, Arnold. It humiliates me to speak about it. Nothing would induce me to take a penny from you.
Arnold. Well, you can’t prevent me from opening an account at my bank in your name. The money shall be paid in every quarter whether you touch it or not, and if you happen to want it, it will be there waiting for you.
Elizabeth. You overwhelm me, Arnold. There’s only one thing I want you to do for me. I should be very grateful if you would divorce me as soon as you possibly can.
Arnold. No, I won’t do that. But I’ll give you cause to divorce me.
Elizabeth. You!
Arnold. Yes. But of course you’ll have to be very careful for a bit. I’ll put it through as quickly as possible, but I’m afraid you can’t hope to be free for over six months.
Elizabeth. But, Arnold, your seat and your political career!
Arnold. Oh, well, my father gave up his seat under similar circumstances. He’s got along very comfortably without politics.
Elizabeth. But they’re your whole life.
Arnold. After all one can’t have it both ways. You can’t serve God and Mammon. If you want to do the decent thing you have to be prepared to suffer for it.
Elizabeth. But I don’t want you to suffer for it.
Arnold. At first I rather hesitated at the scandal. But I daresay that was only weakness on my part. Under the circumstances I should have liked to keep out of the Divorce Court if I could.
Elizabeth. Arnold, you’re making me absolutely miserable.
Arnold. What you said before dinner was quite right. It’s nothing for a man, but it makes so much difference to a woman. Naturally I must think of you first.
Elizabeth. That’s absurd. It’s out of the question. Whatever there’s to pay I must pay it.
Arnold. It’s not very much I’m asking you, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth. I’m taking everything from you.
Arnold. It’s the only condition I make. My mind is absolutely made up. I will never divorce you, but I will enable you to divorce me.
Elizabeth. Oh, Arnold, it’s cruel to be so generous.
Arnold. It’s not generous at all. It’s the only way I have of showing you how deep and passionate and sincere my love is for you.
[There is a silence. He holds out his hand.
Good-night. I have a great deal of work to do before I go to bed.
Elizabeth. Good-night.
Arnold. Do you mind if I kiss you?
Elizabeth. [With agony.] Oh, Arnold!
[He gravely kisses her on the forehead and then goes out. Elizabeth stands lost in thought. She is shattered. Lady Kitty and Porteous come in. Lady Kitty wears a cloak.
Lady Kitty. You’re alone, Elizabeth?
Elizabeth. That note you asked me about, Lady Kitty, from Teddie . . .
Lady Kitty. Yes?
Elizabeth. He wanted to have a talk with me before he went away. He’s waiting for me in the summer house by the tennis court. Would Lord Porteous mind going down and asking him to come here?
Porteous. Certainly. Certainly.
Elizabeth. Forgive me for troubling you. But it’s very important.
Porteous. No trouble at all.
[He goes out.
Lady Kitty. Hughie and I will leave you a
lone.
Elizabeth. But I don’t want to be left alone. I want you to stay.
Lady Kitty. What are you going to say to him?
Elizabeth. [Desperately.] Please don’t ask me questions. I’m so frightfully unhappy.
Lady Kitty. My poor child!
Elizabeth. Oh, isn’t life rotten? Why can’t one be happy without making other people unhappy?
Lady Kitty. I wish I knew how to help you. I’m simply devoted to you. [She hunts about in her mind for something to do or say.] Would you like my lip-stick?
Elizabeth. [Smiling through her tears.] Thanks. I never use one.
Lady Kitty. Oh, but just try. It’s such a comfort when you’re in trouble.
[Enter Porteous and Teddie.
Porteous. I brought him. He said he’d be damned if he’d come.
Lady Kitty. When a lady sent for him? Are these the manners of the young men of to-day?
Teddie. When you’ve been solemnly kicked out of a house once I think it seems rather pushing to come back again as though nothing had happened.
Elizabeth. Teddie, I want you to be serious.
Teddie. Darling, I had such a rotten dinner at that pub. If you ask me to be serious on the top of that I shall cry.
Elizabeth. Don’t be idiotic, Teddie. [Her voice faltering.] I’m so utterly wretched.
[He looks at her for a moment gravely.
Teddie. What is it?
Elizabeth. I can’t come away with you, Teddie.
Teddie. Why not?
Elizabeth. [Looking away in embarrassment.] I don’t love you enough.
Teddie. Fiddle!
Elizabeth. [With a flash of anger.] Don’t say “Fiddle” to me.
Teddie. I shall say exactly what I like to you.
Elizabeth. I won’t be bullied.
Teddie. Now look here, Elizabeth, you know perfectly well that I’m in love with you, and I know perfectly well that you’re in love with me. So what are you talking nonsense for?
Elizabeth. [Her voice breaking.] I can’t say it if you’re cross with me.
Teddie. [Smiling very tenderly.] I’m not cross with you, silly.
Elizabeth. It’s harder still when you’re being rather an owl.
Teddie. [With a chuckle.] Am I mistaken in thinking you’re not very easy to please?
Elizabeth. Oh, it’s monstrous. I was all wrought up and ready to do anything, and now you’ve thoroughly put me out. I feel like a great big fat balloon that some one has put a long pin into. [With a sudden look at him.] Have you done it on purpose?
Teddie. Upon my soul I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Elizabeth. I wonder if you’re really much cleverer than I think you are.
Teddie. [Taking her hands and making her sit down.] Now tell me exactly what you want to say. By the way, do you want Lady Kitty and Lord Porteous to be here?
Elizabeth. Yes.
Lady Kitty. Elizabeth asked us to stay.
Teddie. Oh, I don’t mind, bless you. I only thought you might feel rather in the way.
Lady Kitty. [Frigidly.] A gentlewoman never feels in the way, Mr. Luton.
Teddie. Won’t you call me Teddie? Everybody does, you know.
[Lady Kitty tries to give him a withering look, but she finds it very difficult to prevent herself from smiling. Teddie strokes Elizabeth’s hands. She draws them away.
Elizabeth. No, don’t do that. Teddie, it wasn’t true when I said I didn’t love you. Of course I love you. But Arnold loves me, too. I didn’t know how much.
Teddie. What has he been saying to you?
Elizabeth. He’s been very good to me, and so kind. I didn’t know he could be so kind. He offered to let me divorce him.
Teddie. That’s very decent of him.
Elizabeth. But don’t you see, it ties my hands. How can I accept such a sacrifice? I should never forgive myself if I profited by his generosity.
Teddie. If another man and I were devilish hungry and there was only one mutton chop between us, and he said, “You eat it,” I wouldn’t waste a lot of time arguing. I’d wolf it before he changed his mind.
Elizabeth. Don’t talk like that. It maddens me. I’m trying to do the right thing.
Teddie. You’re not in love with Arnold; you’re in love with me. It’s idiotic to sacrifice your life for a slushy sentiment.
Elizabeth. After all, I did marry him.
Teddie. Well, you made a mistake. A marriage without love is no marriage at all.
Elizabeth. I made the mistake. Why should he suffer for it? If anyone has to suffer it’s only right that I should.
Teddie. What sort of a life do you think it would be with him? When two people are married it’s very difficult for one of them to be unhappy without making the other unhappy too.
Elizabeth. I can’t take advantage of his generosity.
Teddie. I daresay he’ll get a lot of satisfaction out of it.
Elizabeth. You’re being beastly, Teddie. He was simply wonderful. I never knew he had it in him. He was really noble.
Teddie. You are talking rot, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth. I wonder if you’d be capable of acting like that.
Teddie. Acting like what?
Elizabeth. What would you do if I were married to you and came and told you I loved somebody else and wanted to leave you?
Teddie. You have very pretty blue eyes, Elizabeth. I’d black first one and then the other. And after that we’d see.
Elizabeth. You damned brute!
Teddie. I’ve often thought I wasn’t quite a gentleman. Had it ever struck you?
[They look at one another for a while.
Elizabeth. You know, you are taking an unfair advantage of me. I feel as if I came to you quite unsuspectingly and when I wasn’t looking you kicked me on the shins.
Teddie. Don’t you think we’d get on rather well together?
Porteous. Elizabeth’s a fool if she don’t stick to her husband. It’s bad enough for the man, but for the woman — it’s damnable. I hold no brief for Arnold. He plays bridge like a foot. Saving your presence, Kitty, I think he’s a prig.
Lady Kitty. Poor dear, his father was at his age. I daresay he’ll grow out of it.
Porteous. But you stick to him, Elizabeth, stick to him. Man is a gregarious animal. We’re members of a herd. If we break the herd’s laws we suffer for it. And we suffer damnably.
Lady Kitty. Oh, Elizabeth, my dear child, don’t go. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it. I tell you that, and I’ve sacrificed everything to love.
[A pause.
Elizabeth. I’m afraid.
Teddie. [In a whisper.] Elizabeth.
Elizabeth. I can’t face it. It’s asking too much of me. Let’s say good-bye to one another, Teddie. It’s the only thing to do. And have pity on me. I’m giving up all my hope of happiness.
[He goes up to her and looks into her eyes.
Teddie. But I wasn’t offering you happiness. I don’t think my sort of love tends to happiness. I’m jealous. I’m not a very easy man to get on with. I’m often out of temper and irritable. I should be fed to the teeth with you sometimes, and so would you be with me. I daresay we’d fight like cat and dog, and sometimes we’d hate each other. Often you’d be wretched and bored stiff and lonely, and often you’d be frightfully homesick, and then you’d regret all you’d lost. Stupid women would be rude to you because we’d run away together. And some of them would cut you. I don’t offer you peace and quietness. I offer you unrest and anxiety. I don’t offer you happiness. I offer you love.
Elizabeth. [Stretching out her arms.] You hateful creature, I absolutely adore you!
[He throws his arms round her and kisses her passionately on the lips.
Lady Kitty. Of course the moment he said he’d give her a black eye I knew it was finished.
Porteous. [Good-humouredly.] You are a fool, Kitty.
Lady Kitty. I know I am, but I can’t help it.
Teddie. Let’s make a bolt for i
t now.
Elizabeth. Shall we?
Teddie. This minute.
Porteous. You’re damned fools, both of you, damned fools! If you like you can have my car.
Teddie. That’s awfully kind of you. As a matter of fact I got it out of the garage. It’s just along the drive.
Porteous. [Indignantly.] How do you mean, you got it out of the garage?
Teddie. Well, I thought there’d be a lot of bother, and it seemed to me the best thing would be for Elizabeth and me not to stand upon the order of our going, you know. Do it now. An excellent motto for a business man.
Porteous. Do you mean to say you were going to steal my car?
Teddie. Not exactly. I was only going to bolshevise it, so to speak.
Porteous. I’m speechless. I’m absolutely speechless.
Teddie. Hang it all, I couldn’t carry Elizabeth all the way to London. She’s so damned plump.
Elizabeth. You dirty dog!
Porteous. [Spluttering.] Well, well, well! . . . [Helplessly.] I like him, Kitty, it’s no good pretending I don’t. I like him.
Teddie. The moon’s shining, Elizabeth. We’ll drive all through the night.
Porteous. They’d better go to San Michele. I’ll wire to have it got ready for them.
Lady Kitty. That’s where we went when Hughie and I . . . [Faltering.] Oh, you dear things, how I envy you!
Porteous. [Mopping his eyes.] Now don’t cry, Kitty. Confound you, don’t cry.
Teddie. Come, darling.
Elizabeth. But I can’t go like this.
Teddie. Nonsense! Lady Kitty will lend you her cloak. Won’t you?
Lady Kitty. [Taking it off.] You’re capable of tearing it off my back if I don’t.
Teddie. [Putting the cloak on Elizabeth.] And we’ll buy you a tooth-brush in London in the morning.
Lady Kitty. She must write a note for Arnold. I’ll put it on her pincushion.
Teddie. Pincushion be blowed! Come, darling. We’ll drive through the dawn and through the sunrise.
Elizabeth. [Kissing Lady Kitty and Porteous.] Good-bye. Good-bye.
[Teddie stretches out his hand and she takes it. Hand in hand they go out into the night.
Lady Kitty. Oh, Hughie, how it all comes back to me! Will they suffer all we suffered? And have we suffered all in vain?
Porteous. My dear, I don’t know that in life it matters so much what you do as what you are. No one can learn by the experience of another because no circumstances are quite the same. If we made rather a hash of things perhaps it was because we were rather trivial people. You can do anything in this world if you’re prepared to take the consequences, and consequences depend on character.
Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated) Page 407