by David Hare
Wilde I can tell he’ll be breathless.
Bosie Oh Oscar …
Wilde It’s the breathlessness I cannot face.
Bosie Are you going to be childish?
Wilde He’ll rush in, wearing those awful striped trousers and bursting with news which he’ll want to blurt out. The very name Wyndham! It exudes self-importance. A person called Wyndham indeed! George Wyndham!
Bosie is nodding as if this confirms a familiar pattern.
Bosie Oh I see, so you’re going to be facetious.
Wilde Not at all.
Bosie He may bring you news of your freedom!
Wilde Then please by all means you may see him out there in the corridor. I have said. You are welcome to meet him …
Moffatt What shall I say, sir?
Wilde I just don’t much fancy the prospect myself.
Wilde is standing, self-consciously capricious, looking for more wine.
Bosie Oscar, George has been working …
Wilde I know this …
Bosie He has been in Parliament all morning on your behalf.
Wilde Tell him: I appreciate all he has done for me but I do not wish to speak to him now.
Bosie Why not?
Wilde Because it is simple! Open that door and the real world comes into this room.
Wilde has raised his voice. Moffatt retires discreetly.
Bosie You know this has been the whole story …
Wilde What story?
Bosie This has been my problem throughout …
Wilde (to Arthur)The wine! Can you get me the wine?
Arthur Yes, of course, sir.
Arthur goes out.
Bosie It is as if you still can’t absorb it. George Wyndham is a powerful man!
Wilde I know that.
Bosie He is my cousin, for God’s sake! He has far better things to do with his time.
Wilde I’m sure.
Wilde smiles surreptitiously at Ross.
Bosie For him there is also the danger.
Wilde I see that.
Bosie A man of his standing. The risk he is taking by speaking on your behalf. And why do you think he is doing it? My cousin George is actually risking his neck! Because by the purest coincidence he happens to hate my father almost as much as I do myself!
Wilde looks at him a moment.
Wilde Why, yes.
Bosie So then why will you not talk to him?
Wilde Oh Bosie …
Bosie I mean it! Why won’t you? He is waiting outside!
Wilde Oh Bosie, how I envy your spirit!
He stops, the point reached at last.
I do not wish to speak to George Wyndham because the point is George Wyndham cannot succeed!
Wilde seizes on Arthur’s return.
Ah, and here comes my wine, thank goodness. Arthur, your timing is excellent, as always, I see.
Arthur Thank you, sir. Do you want me to open it?
Wilde I most certainly do.
Wilde is suddenly fluent, at ease.
Oh yes, by all means, admit your friend in his pinstripes, let him bring us news from the oak-panelled corridors of whispered meetings with all his biscuity, high-minded friends. But Bosie … do you believe such meetings can weigh on our fortunes? Even you must see it, it’s simply too late.
Bosie Too late?
Wilde Yes. Of course. Ask Robbie.
Bosie Oscar, what makes you so sure that you’re not going to win?
Wilde throws up his hands, near tears.
Wilde Oh …
Ross Look, Bosie …
Bosie No, really. We seem to be glibly assuming that there will be a criminal trial. And that should it take place, we are destined to lose it.
Wilde Bosie, do you really imagine I care? Do you think it is the prospect of losing which makes me so fearful?
Bosie moves towards him with genuine compassion.
Bosie Oh Oscar, I beg you … I beg you, do not give up.
Wilde Give up? Give up? Why should it matter? ‘Shall I give up?’ ‘Shall I carry on?’ Either? Neither? Guilty! Not guilty! How can it make a blind bit of difference? The simple fact is: I am cast in a role. My story has already been written. How I choose to play it is a mere matter of taste. The performance of the actor will not determine the action.
Bosie And what is this action?
Wilde The action is: I am being expelled!
He is suddenly savage. Bosie turns away.
Bosie Oh really!
Wilde It’s true. I am trapped in the narrative. The narrative now has a life of its own. It travels inexorably towards my disgrace. Towards my final expulsion. And it bears me along on its crest …
He seems suddenly almost exhilarated.
Yes, in fact, for me, borne along by this story, there is even an odd kind of freedom. I may wear whatever mask I may choose. Tragic? Defiant? Tearful? Resigned? I may try all these attitudes. I may bring what so-called ‘feelings’ I like to the role. But they will not have the slightest effect on the outcome. The story has only one possible end.
Bosie is genuinely frightened now.
Bosie Oscar, why do you feel that? For God’s sake! After all we have been through! Just see him! What may you lose by it? My cousin is serious. My cousin is desperately concerned.
At this Wilde seems to relax, as if on familiar territory.
Wilde Of course. I do not for one second doubt it. I know that look in the English. They affect a particular furrow-browed earnestness, a desperate considerateness. As they settle one’s fate, they arrange their features in a way which is always moral and grave. They speak about law and principle and how much it will hurt them to do the thing they must do. And at the end of the seriousness, the weightiness, the sorrow, the judicious weighing of things in the scales – have you really not noticed? – the decisions they make lead only one way. This is England. There is always a hanging! And this time it’s decided: the noose has been fitted and the neck is my own!
Arthur hovers with the bottle.
Arthur Do I pour, sir?
Wilde Pour.
Wilde is so absorbed he has not even turned to Arthur.
Have you never once stopped … have you never asked yourself … never once wondered why your Wyndhams exist? Why they exhibit all that desperate doggy concern? Wyndhams exist only to stand in front of the Asquiths. And the Asquiths are the ones who get their own way.
A knock, and the door opens again. It is Mr Moffatt with a second trolley.
Ask Mr Moffatt. Mr Moffatt’s not English. The English have been my subject for years. Oh yes, in England the preacher says prayers on the scaffold. Then straight after he dines with the hangman.
He turns as Phoebe joins Moffatt at the door.
And how appropriate! It seems that the lobster is here.
Phoebe has a large tray with a silver dome. Arthur joins Mr Moffatt, who has a trolley with saucepans and a burner.
And it is the lovely Phoebe who brings it …
Phoebe Thank you, sir.
Wilde Robbie, please shower her with money at once. Alter my mood! Let us do something noble! Let us try and change Phoebe’s life for the good.
Phoebe Sir.
Phoebe is blushing with pleasure. Bosie moves away in despair.
Wilde Since we ourselves cannot be happy …
Ross Oh Oscar …
Wilde Let another be happy instead. Yes? You agree with me, Phoebe?
Phoebe I’d quite like some money, sir, if that’s what you mean.
Moffatt, busying for elaborate meal preparation, looks disapproving.
Moffatt Phoebe …
Phoebe I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to say that. I hope I gave no offence.
Wilde You did not. You could not.
Phoebe Thank you, sir.
For a second, it seems he might reach out and touch her. They are both moved.
Wilde Robbie, open my pocketbook forthwith.
Ross No, I refuse to.
W
ilde What, would you defy me?
Moffatt Sir, would you like us to serve you the lobster at once?
Wilde Lay it forth, by all means. Yes, now is the moment.
Moffatt I’ll do it, sir.
Wilde Light up your fire and release some warmth in our hearts!
Moffatt lights the silver spirit lamp, which gives a big pop.
There we are. The flame of Olympia! A little beacon of hope that flickers and flares …
Moffatt And shall I ready the sauce, sir?
Wilde Set to, Mr Moffatt. Abduct me down the path of excess!
Moffatt Yes, sir.
The three staff all laugh, busy round the trolley, as Moffatt prepares the sauce for the lobster. Wilde moves over to Bosie and speaks quietly.
Wilde Oh Bosie, I beg you, do not look so sulky. I cannot bear to see you cast low.
Bosie Well, how do you want me to take this?
Wilde In the same way I hope I will take it myself.
An intimacy has returned. Wilde reaches out and touches his hand.
Bosie …
Bosie I cannot. Oscar, you know what I feel for you. You have been the luck of my life. But now, you are taking up an attitude that makes no sense to me. You have decided you are foredoomed. It is as if you want your own downfall. You welcome it. You imagine this weakness poetic, it is what you have called embracing your fate …
Wilde Is that right?
Bosie How you love that idea! But to me it has no such attraction. It just means that you lack the will to fight back.
Wilde is close to Bosie. Ross watches. The three staff go on with their work.
In your writing, you love to say there is always a destiny. Men are always dragged down by the gods. Do not make this mistake. Do not confuse your life with your art. Such ideas belong only in literature. They do not belong in the world.
He leans further in, assured, not wanting the hotel servants to hear.
These boys … these boys who will testify, who will stand up in court and say you took them to bed … who are they? They are known to be renters. Blackmailers. The scum of society. Why do you think that the court will believe them? Why are you so sure you cannot then win?
Wilde I have said. I am indifferent to winning. Whatever the verdict, my reputation is gone.
Bosie Ah yes, of course, how convenient. It’s all a conspiracy! Everything is out of your hands. Because it’s the fault of the English. The English who, as we know, spend the whole day thinking up ways of claiming your scalp …
Wilde I didn’t say that.
Wilde moves away in despair at this.
Bosie Didn’t you? You said something like it. Yesterday, in court, those answers you gave. I watched you. I know you. You have wanted this thing. In some awful part of your being, you love the idea of surrender. You think there’s some hideous glamour in letting Fate propel you down from the heights! But I do well to remind you, it happens I am a poet as well. But with a far different outlook. I don’t find destruction romantic.
Wilde looks up at his accusation.
Wilde Bosie, oh please, you must not say that.
Bosie Well then, sit in this room until you are groggy. By all means. Until you are musky with drink. Sit here and tell yourself that everything is written in advance in the stars. But I am a different character. I shall confer with my cousin. I shall do what you are too lazy to do. I shall fight. I shall fight for your future and for my own.
Wilde Bosie …
Bosie Because I am not cowed. I will not be cowed by what’s happened. Unlike you, Oscar, I refuse to give up.
Bosie goes out. Wilde is devastated by his departure.
Moffatt Sir, the meal is now ready.
Wilde Ah …
Moffatt The dish is prepared.
Wilde Good.
The table is set out like a vision, but Wilde does not move towards it.
Moffatt The lobster has been softened in butter. Tomatoes have been added, crushed garlic, shallots, tarragon, orange peel, parsley, white wine …
Wilde Yes, thank you.
Moffatt We dust with cayenne and then bathe in fresh cream.
Wilde Please.
He still does not move.
In one moment I will be ready to eat it. Robbie, I insist you reward them at once.
But Ross is ready to stand firm.
Now Robbie … give me that pocketbook. Give me my cash, I insist. Give it here. You must hand it over. I have to remind you the money is mine.
Ross No, I won’t.
Wilde Robbie …
Ross I cannot do it in honesty. The money is there to fund you in exile. I cannot allow you to give it away.
The three go very still, sensing the tension as Wilde moves towards Ross.
Wilde Robbie, just pass me the pocketbook. Earlier I asked you to cash me a cheque …
Ross I did it.
Wilde Well?
Ross That cheque was intended for one purpose only.
Wilde Its purpose is not your concern.
Ross Oscar, this is what Bosie is saying. You do not protect your own cause. You need this money. With all respect to these people, why would you waste it?
Wilde Give me my money! How dare you? The money is mine!
Wilde has shouted this, and is now swaying slightly. Moffatt is uncomfortable.
Moffatt Excuse me, sir …
Wilde No, Mr Moffatt, this does not concern you. Robbie, give me my money.
Ross No, I refuse.
Wilde moves closer. Ross is transfixed.
Wilde Robbie, come close to me. Robbie. Would you wish to upset me? Now, Robbie. Robbie. Look me in the eye. It is my will. Give me the pocketbook.
There is a silence. Ross reaches into his breast pocket and hands the wallet over.
Thank you. Please allow us all to live our own lives.
He moves a little unsteadily towards the group who are standing together.
Mr Moffatt, I have had magnificent service. I have remarked on this already, I know. But the vision of this meal reminds me … the standard of service is the highest I’ve known. For that reason, I would be grateful … it would do me honour if I could bestow some reward …
Fumblingly, he takes out notes.
For the three of you, say, five pounds for your trouble? Ten, even? Five each?
Wilde has misread Moffatt’s reluctance and clumsily taken out more.
Moffatt I’m sorry, Mr Wilde, but we cannot accept.
The group stirs. Wilde is shocked.
Wilde What?
Moffatt No, sir, we cannot. We cannot take this money of yours. If we accepted it would weigh on our conscience. No really. I promise, I speak for us all. Arthur?
Arthur Indeed, sir.
Moffatt Phoebe?
Phoebe Yes, I feel the same way.
It is not true for Phoebe, and they all know it.
Moffatt These last few weeks, Mr Wilde, we have come to know you. No visitor to this hotel has ever been kinder or better regarded than you. And not for what you have given us. Not money, anyway. You have given us kindness. And at this moment your need is greater than ours. Here in this hotel, we see all sorts of people. People of every background and type. But we see very few gentlemen.
He bows very slightly. Wilde, near to tears again, is barely able to speak.
Wilde Thank you. I am very moved.
Moffatt And now we would ask you just one single favour …
Wilde Of course. What’s that, Mr Moffatt?
Moffatt That you sit down and eat your lunch.
Wilde Yes, of course, Mr Moffatt.
He sits down obediently. They hand him his napkin. They pour wine into his glass. A small ritual. Then:
Moffatt We’ll leave you. Goodbye, sir. Call if there’s anything you feel you might need.
All ThreeGoodbye, sir.
Moffatt We will be close, sir.
Wilde Thank you. Thank you indeed.
They go out. Wilde has lifted his fork but then
he breaks down, overcome.
I cannot. I cannot eat it.
He drops the fork and gets up, moving blindly towards Ross.
Oh Robbie, Robbie …
Ross Oscar …
Wilde Robbie, come here please, come here and hold me …
Ross Oh Oscar …
Wilde Hold me, my dear, my precious, my own …
The two men stand in each other’s arms.
Ross Oh Oscar …
Wilde You think … you think I have upset Bosie? What is Bosie thinking, do you know?
Ross I do not.
Wilde had buried his head in Ross’s shoulder, but now Ross tenses, and Wilde moves away, the moment past.
Wilde Good God, what’s happening? I am awash. I have lost my handkerchief. Oh Lord, are there handkerchiefs here?
He has blundered over to the suitcase, and is now pulling at its contents, clothes going everywhere in his untidy search.
Ross Please Oscar, let me. I packed a bunch of silk handkerchiefs Constance gave me …
Wilde Oh Constance, oh Lord …
Wilde moves away and lets Ross take over in the suitcase.
Even the sound of her name. Look! Even the lobster reproaches me. Everything reproaches me. Look, just look at its dead eye staring up. To have killed me, it says, and then not even to eat me!
Coldly Ross hands him a handkerchief.
Ross Oscar, I’m afraid the moment has come.
Wilde It’s come?
Ross has gone back to put everything into the bag and close it up.
Ross By my watch it’s now a quarter past three. Remember, you don’t yet have a ticket. If we leave now you will still have a chance.
Wilde Yes.
Wilde is wiping his tears away as he moves across the room.
Now?
Ross Yes.
Wilde You think? How can I leave without Bosie? I can hardly leave without saying goodbye.
Ross Soon enough you may see him.
Wilde I cannot leave if Bosie feels it is wrong.
Ross shifts, containing his temper.
Forgive me, I do not feel fully at ease. It is an instinct, no more. I look. I imagine myself as I pass through that door.
He looks for a moment. Then waves a hand.
No. Not yet. I need to speak once more to Bosie. Yes. Bring me Bosie and then I will go.
He has sat down. Ross is holding the packed bag, ready to go.
Ross Oscar, I am uncertain why you are so keen to delay your departure …
Wilde I have given my reasons. I still am not sure.