David Hare Plays 3

by David Hare

  The remark is brutal. The room is darkening. Wilde has not moved from his chair. Ross goes to pour from the bottle into Wilde’s glass.

  I have never come across anyone in whom the moral sense was dominant who was not heartless, cruel, vindictive, log-stupid and entirely lacking in the smallest sense of humanity. Moral people are simple beasts.

  He looks at the measure Ross is pouring.

  Leave the bottle.

  Upstairs Galileo is heard, calling in Italian to Bosie. Ross looks up as he pours himself another drink.

  Ross It is your business. It is your decision.

  Wilde Yes. As you say.

  Ross He is a repellant. Use him by all means. But repellants are indiscriminate. They also drive away those whom you will need as your friends.

  Bosie appears, dressed like an Englishman in pale trousers and jacket, Galileo behind him. They are both laughing, the picture of careless youth. Bosie has clearly resolved to be easygoing to Ross.

  Bosie Ah, Robbie, greetings.

  Ross Thank you.

  Bosie You have made a long journey.

  Ross Yes.

  Bosie We have not seen you here before.

  Ross No.

  Bosie My friend Galileo is taking me out dancing. Do you wish to accompany us?

  Ross I cannot. I am leaving tonight. By the night train.

  Bosie Already?

  Bosie smiles affectionately at Wilde.

  Oscar?

  Wilde Forgive me. My dancing days are over.

  Wilde reaches out to the table and holds up the letter between his fingers.

  Your mother’s letter.

  Bosie Thank you.

  Bosie goes across the room to take it, perfectly at ease.

  Well, it was good to see you,. Robbie. However briefly. Don’t wait up. I’ll be late.

  Wilde You have your key?

  Bosie I do. Goodbye, everyone. Enjoy yourselves.

  Wilde Oh yes.

  Galileo Arrivederci. E stato un piacere. Alla prossima.

  Wilde Dance for me, Bosie. Dance one for me.

  Bosie laughs and goes out with Galileo. Wilde reaches out and takes Ross’s hand.

  And will you not stay with me Robbie? Will you not stay here tonight?

  Ross I cannot.

  Wilde No?

  Ross Truly, I cannot. I must return to England.

  Wilde Ah.

  It is darkening now outside the window.

  In prison, I tell you, after several months – I was ill, my stomach wrecked, attended by dysentery, working on a treadmill, then thrown in my cell, gasping for breath, for air … the governor of the prison visited. He said, ‘Wilde, you must learn patience …’ I replied, ‘Patience I would happily learn but what you are teaching me is apathy …’

  Suddenly his eyes are filled with tears at the hopelessness of his situation. Ross, kneeling before him, is also overwhelmed.

  I have enjoyed our talk. I see no one. I shall miss you, Robbie. I shall miss the chance to talk.

  Ross I am sorry. It hurts me to say … I do not know how to say this. But I must dispatch a message to Constance …

  Wilde looks away, letting go of Ross’s hand, not willing to dignify this with a reply. Ross knows the answer and gets up.

  So. Well, it is so. Good to see you, Oscar. I have very little. I can leave you two pounds only. Even two pounds is not easy. My mother bought my ticket. I myself am at some considerable inconvenience. Yes, art is a thriving racket as you say, but not when you are known to be Oscar Wilde’s oldest friend.

  He has the money in his hand.

  Ross So? Shall I leave it here?

  Wilde Leave it.

  Wilde waves a finger like a cardinal. Ross puts the coins down on the table beside him. He wants to move close, but Wilde speaks to stop him.

  I shall one day see you again.

  Ross knows this is final. He goes, closing the door behind him. Wilde does not move. Music begins to play, swelling and filling the room. The light fades to near-dark. The lighthouse beam sweeps round again, from outside the window, catching Wilde briefly in the light.

  There is a passage of time. It is night. Wilde is still sitting in the same chair. Most of the brandy has gone. Only his burning cigarette indicates his presence. Then light comes from a gas lamp held by Bosie as he comes downstairs, still dressed. The music fades as Bosie is surprised to see Wilde.

  SCENE TWO

  Bosie Oscar …

  Wilde turns slightly.

  You’re here.

  Wilde Yes.

  Bosie Were you here all along? Have you been sleeping?

  Wilde No.

  Bosie You did not hear me come in? Why did you not say anything? You did not speak to me.

  Wilde I was struck dumb by the fact that you came back alone.

  Bosie Very funny.

  Wilde Thank you.

  Bosie puts down his lamp and picks Wilde’s notebook up from the table.

  Bosie Ah, I see. Have you been writing?

  Wilde Yes. I have been writing my play.

  Bosie In the dark?

  Bosie holds the book a moment, but Wilde takes it and puts it back down.

  You are extraordinary.

  Wilde You think so?

  Bosie You sit here. When did you last move?

  Wilde Oh, quite recently. I have occupied this chair for only one single transit of the sun.

  Bosie lights another lamp and the room begins to brighten.

  Do you know, when I lived at Tite Street I once took a cab to a dinner party just three houses away?

  Bosie Nothing surprises me.

  Wilde It was my own individual protest against the mindless cult of athleticism.

  Bosie smiles affectionately.

  Buddhism, similarly, has always been a closed book to me. A whole religion devoted to the cause of breathing. To what purpose? We breathe anyway, will we, nill we. My own endeavour in breathing, as in all things, is to expend as little energy as possible.

  Bosie Are you planning to move?

  Wilde No.

  Bosie Have you slept at all?

  Wilde No.

  It is the first time we have seen the two of them alone, and the tone is relaxed.

  Ideally, I like to drink anise. My favourite anise is the second. I drink it not because it makes me sleep – nothing makes me sleep – but because at the moment I drink it I believe that I shall sleep. An illustration of the perfect usefulness of science. The potion necessary to make me sleep does not exist. But the potion that provides the illusion that I shall does.

  Bosie Yes.

  Wilde Indeed.

  He stubs out his cigarette.

  I drink the second anise. I am filled with the conviction: ‘I shall sleep tonight.’ Belief is everything. Faith is everything.

  He is thoughtful a moment.

  It is the same with love.

  Bosie With love?

  Wilde Yes.

  Bosie In what way?

  Wilde The vulgar error is to think that love is a kind of illusion.

  Bosie Is it not?

  Wilde No. It is the fault of bad poets who encourage this mistake. ‘I am completely enraptured,’ lovers say, as if somehow they were being deceived. When the affair ends they say, ‘I have been stripped of my illusions.’ When they cease to love they say, ‘Oh. I see him clearly now.’

  Bosie Are they not right?

  Wilde No, Bosie. The reverse is the truth.

  The two men look at each other.

  The everyday world is shrouded. We see it dimly. Only when we love do we see the true person. The truth of a person is only visible through love. Love is not the illusion. Life is.

  There is a silence. Bosie shifts.

  Bosie You heard me come in?

  Wilde Yes, of course. Hours ago.

  Bosie I was early.

  Wilde I heard you moving about.

  Bosie I have been thinking.

  Wilde I can tell.

 
Bosie After all, we have been here three months.

  Wilde Yes.

  Bosie We cannot just go on.

  Wilde No.

  Bosie I mean, without money.

  Wilde Plainly. As you say. You are right. The Ballad of Reading Gaol is to be published next year.

  Bosie What did Robbie say of it?

  Wilde He did not mention it. My feeling is, he did not like it. Silence is always the most potent form of literary criticism.

  Bosie watches Wilde, wary now.

  Bosie How was Robbie?

  Wilde Robbie? Oh. Himself.

  Bosie Yes. Robbie is always himself.

  Wilde He is always quiet. People who speak quietly are always held to be modest. Why? It seems to me the height of arrogance not to make the effort to make yourself heard. Always I lean towards him. My ears are bad, but not that bad …

  Bosie Yes.

  Wilde Lord deliver us from the conceit of quiet speakers.

  Bosie Did he bring you good news?

  Wilde Good news?

  Bosie A long way to come …

  Wilde Indeed.

  Bosie Can you tell me what he said?

  Wilde affects indifference.

  Wilde He told me that Whistler is still at his daubs.

  Bosie Oh …

  Wilde The Café Royal is still full. Men sit taking care not to cross their legs. The wink is outlawed as an acceptable form of social intercourse. Gentlemen seeking advancement in society cover their arses with three layers of tailored material. Frankly, I should be carried shoulder-high by the cutters down Savile Row, for now a whole generation of respectable people must conceal their nether parts behind high-priced, redundant fabric. My arrest, thank God, has had some commercial benefits.

  Bosie But not for you.

  Wilde No. Surely.

  Wilde knows he has not succeeded in sidetracking Bosie.

  Bosie Oscar, I have come to a conclusion.

  Wilde Ah.

  Bosie I have come to believe that we are in some way at fault.

  Wilde At fault?

  Bosie Has that not occurred to you?

  Wilde frowns, not wanting to speak.

  Do you think that human beings just live? The lot they are handed, the ordeals they undergo … do you think these depend purely on the workings of chance?

  Wilde I am sorry. I am not following you.

  Bosie looks at him, preparing himself.

  Bosie Oscar, it is not my wish to hurt you …

  Wilde Surely …

  Bosie But do you not feel that the way we are living here in Naples – the place we find ourselves in – do you not find in this some sort of judgement?

  Wilde Judgement?

  Bosie Yes.

  Wilde is frowning, bewildered.

  Come. Look. Look around you. The empty rooms, the appalling lack of servants, the rats – please! The absence of money, the hunger even, the futility! You! I! Our ceaseless disputes! The sometimes barren evenings – has it not occurred to you, have you not thought? The nights, the nights you sit alone in that chair, the loss of your friends, the collapse of your reputation …

  Wilde Ah, that.

  Bosie starts to backtrack.

  Bosie No …

  Wilde Go on. Please. Build your case.

  Bosie Oscar …

  Wilde It is beginning to sound positively monumental.

  Bosie smiles, apparently conceding.

  Bosie I sound too harsh, it is not my wish to be unkind to you …

  Wilde Never.

  Bosie But have you never thought that perhaps we live like this because this is what we deserve?

  Wilde Deserve?

  Bosie Yes.

  Wilde Goodness. A big word, ‘deserve’. I have never been sure I understand it. Please. Explain to me gently. Possibly I am obtuse.

  Bosie Oscar …

  Wilde There is some justice, is that your contention?

  Bosie Perhaps.

  Wilde There is justice, is there? At work here we find our old friend, Fate?

  Bosie Well …

  Wilde Fate is at work, is it? Doing its worst?

  Bosie I fear so.

  Wilde What you are suggesting is – let me be clear – you think that Fate is not blind? What is this, Bosie? A late conversion?

  Bosie No. An early conversion.

  Wilde Fate has dealt us this hand, but only because what? We have lived in the wrong way?

  Bosie Not we, Oscar. You.

  Wilde nods, understanding at last.

  Wilde Ah, I see. Yes of course. Now I have your drift. The old cause …

  Bosie Yes. The decision to lie.

  Wilde Oh, of course.

  Bosie And the decision to persist in the lie. From this all else stems!

  Bosie has suddenly raised his voice. Wilde reacts, reaching for the brandy.

  Wilde We have discussed this, Bosie. We do not need to discuss it again. I think I preferred it when you spent the night fishing.

  Bosie I cannot forgive you! I cannot forgive you this …

  Wilde No, you have said.

  Bosie Lying in public! Isn’t that your principal achievement? Isn’t that the thing for which you will be chiefly known?

  Wilde It may be.

  Bosie You were given your theatre! You were given your chance! The Old Bailey! You could have defended Greek love!

  Bosie is passionate, indignant.

  How will history judge you? History will forget you …

  Wilde No doubt.

  Bosie You will be known for ever as the man who was ashamed to admit his own nature! When a better time comes, when this kind of love is accepted and understood, then you will be condemned because you took the coward’s way.

  Bosie suddenly shouts out again.

  Did you ever consider the simple expedient of telling the truth?

  Wilde In public?

  Bosie Of course.

  Wilde appears to think for a moment.

  Wilde I think I can safely say never.

  Bosie From this … from this central evasion, all else follows! With you, everything is compromise! Everything is dishonesty! I cannot live like this!

  Wilde No, plainly. I know how important honesty is to you.

  Bosie is calmer, wanting to get to his real point.

  Bosie Oscar, I have wanted to say for some time: it is worse, truly – I know this is difficult to hear – but, from my point of view, our situation is far worse for me.

  Wilde Ah yes.

  He pauses a second.

  How so?

  Bosie I am young.

  Wilde Ah.

  Bosie My life lies ahead of me.

  Wilde Of course.

  Bosie You are old. Your best days lie behind you.

  Wilde I suppose.

  Wilde looks mildly surprised.

  I mean, if you want to put it that way.

  Bosie To be destroyed when you are in your forties, yes it is sad, yes it is tragic, of course. I do not deny it.

  Wilde No …

  Bosie I have never denied it. But for me! The prospect of being destroyed when my life is still before me!

  Wilde Yes, I see.

  He flicks some ash, but Bosie is not listening.

  Plainly it’s inconvenient.

  Bosie I cannot allow it!

  Bosie pauses, reaching the real subject.

  Also. Remember: we have not spoken much of this lately, but since I first met you, I have always told you, I have always made clear: it is not in my nature finally to be with men, to love men only …

  Wilde No.

  Bosie I am not disposed, as you are, to love my own sex …

  Wilde is impassive, not responding.

  For me, as you know, it has been only a phase …

  Wilde Of course …

  Bosie Since adolescence it is only a phase I have been passing through.

  Wilde That’s right. Though occasionally with an appetite which the imperceptive might mistake for posit
ive relish.

  Bosie nods as if this is just the kind of remark he had been expecting.

  Bosie Oh yes, very good …

  Wilde I’m sorry …

  Bosie You may make your jokes …

  Wilde Thank you.

  Bosie You have always made cheap jokes.

  Wilde No. Not always. Once people paid for them. And paid handsomely.

  Bosie I am not an invert!

  Wilde No.

  Wilde pauses, then speaks quietly, but Bosie does not hear him.

  Just a brilliant mimic.

  Bosie Oh yes, certainly, as you say, I have indulged myself …

  Wilde Yes. Once or twice …

  Bosie I have had particular experiences. I have slept with men …

  Wilde Now steady on, Bosie, don’t get carried away …

  Bosie I admit I have let events overtake me …

  Wilde Indeed. That night in Capri.

  Bosie Please! You have joked enough!

  Bosie is momentarily threatening.

  I have indulged myself, yes, but always, always knowing that I could stop at any time.

  Wilde That is fortunate.

  Bosie At any time!

  Bosie is relieved to have established his point.

  God knows, since I came down from Oxford, I have seen enough of your friends, I have known enough old queens …

  Wilde Indeed.

  Bosie My God! The horror of it. Ending up like that. No thank you! To find myself at forty or fifty, painted, rouged, sitting in bars … no, not for me, that life. This is not the destiny of my family. That is not my future. I have always known that I would move on.

  Wilde And will you? Is that what you are saying? Will you now move on?

  There is the silence of a crucial point reached. Bosie is still, sincere.

  Bosie Oscar, you know that I will not leave you. I will not leave you against your will. It would be wrong. I asked you here.

  Wilde You did.

  Bosie It was at my request. I shall not dishonour that request. Too many people have left you, too many people have betrayed you. You have not been good at choosing your friends.

  Wilde On the contrary. I have the gift of choosing them. Holding on to them has proved to be my faiblesse.

  Bosie Yes. You know what I mean.

  Wilde I do.

  There is a silence, each of them knowing what is coming. At the window light is beginning to break, the first grey outline of morning on the horizon.

  Dawn is coming. I know it. I shall not need to turn. Already I feel it like a hand. I feel the light at my back.

  Bosie takes a step towards him.

  Bosie Oscar …