by T. S. Eliot
Like mine, a somewhat unusual one.
Perhaps it might be possible to trace them.
The name was Kaghan.
SIR CLAUDE. Their name was Kaghan!
MRS. GUZZARD. K-A-G-H-A-N. An odd name.
They were excellent people. Nonconformists.
EGGERSON. And the child, I suppose he had a Christian name?
MRS. GUZZARD. There was nothing to show that the child had been baptised
When it came to us; but we could not be sure.
My husband was particular in such matters,
So we had it given conditional baptism.
EGGERSON. What name did you give him?
MRS. GUZZARD. We named the child Barnabas.
LADY ELIZABETH. Barnabas? There’s never been such a name
In my family. Or, I’m sure, in his father’s.
But how did he come to be called Colby?
SIR CLAUDE. But, Elizabeth, it isn’t Colby!
Don’t you see who it is?
MRS. GUZZARD. My husband chose the name.
We had been married in the church of St. Barnabas.
COLBY. Barnabas Kaghan. Is he the little cousin
Who died? Don’t you remember, Aunt Sarah,
My finding a rattle and a jingle-bell,
And your telling me I had had a little cousin
Who had died?
MRS. GUZZARD. Yes, Colby, that is what I told you.
LADY ELIZABETH. So my child is living. I was sure of that.
But I believe that Colby is Barnabas.
SIR CLAUDE. No, Elizabeth, Barnabas is Barnabas.
I must explain this, Mrs. Guzzard.
I have a very promising young colleague —
In fact, the young man who showed you upstairs —
Whose name is Barnabas Kaghan.
LADY ELIZABETH. Barnabas?
SIR CLAUDE. Yes, Elizabeth. He sometimes has to sign his full name.
But he doesn’t like the name, for some reason;
So we call him B.
MRS. GUZZARD. A very good name.
He ought to be proud of it.
LADY ELIZABETH. How old is this Barnabas?
SIR CLAUDE. About twenty-eight, I think.
MRS. GUZZARD. He should be twenty-eight.
LADY ELIZABETH. Then I must be out in my calculations.
SIR CLAUDE. That wouldn’t surprise me.
LADY ELIZABETH. Yes, what year was it?
I’m getting so confused. What with Colby being Barnabas —
I mean, not Barnabas. And Mr. Kaghan
Being Barnabas. I suppose I’ll get used to it.
COLBY. But he’s waiting downstairs! Isn’t this the moment
For me to bring him up? And Lucasta?
EGGERSON. An excellent suggestion, Mr. Simpkins.
[Exit COLBY]
EGGERSON. And now, if you agree, Lady Elizabeth,
We can ask Mr. Kaghan about his parents;
And if Mr. and Mrs. Kaghan are still living
Mrs. Guzzard should be able to identify them.
LADY ELIZABETH. And will that prove that Mr. Kaghan —
This Mr. Kaghan — is my son?
EGGERSON. It creates an inherent probability —
If that’s the right expression.
SIR CLAUDE. I believe, Elizabeth,
That you have found your son.
EGGERSON. Subject to confirmation.
LADY ELIZABETH. And to my being able to adjust myself to it.
[Re-enter COLBY, with KAGHAN and LUCASTA]
COLBY. I have told them to be prepared for a surprise.
LADY ELIZABETH. Barnabas! Is your name Barnabas?
KAGHAN. Why, yes, it is. Did you tell her, Sir Claude?
SIR CLAUDE. No, B. It was Mrs. Guzzard who revealed it.
This is Mr. Barnabas Kaghan —
Mrs. Guzzard. And … my daughter Lucasta.
KAGHAN. But how did Mrs. Guzzard know my name?
MRS. GUZZARD. Were Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Kaghan your parents?
KAGHAN. Yes. They are. My adoptive parents.
MRS. GUZZARD. And did they at one time live in Teddington?
KAGHAN. I believe they did. But why are you interested?
MRS. GUZZARD. Lady Elizabeth, I believe that this is your son.
If so, I am cleared from your unjust suspicion.
EGGERSON. Mr. Kaghan, are your adoptive parents living?
KAGHAN. In Kent. They wanted to retire to the country.
So I found them a little place near Sevenoaks
Where they keep bees. But why are you asking?
LADY ELIZABETH. Because, Barnabas, it seems you are my son.
EGGERSON. You will wish to obtain confirmation
Of this interesting discovery, Mr. Kaghan,
By putting your adoptive parents in touch
With Mrs. Guzzard. It’s for them to confirm
That they took you, as a child, from Mrs. Guzzard,
To whom, it seems, you had first been entrusted.
KAGHAN. I really don’t know what emotion to register …
LUCASTA. You don’t need to talk that language any longer:
Just say you’re embarrassed.
KAGHAN. Well, I am embarrassed.
If Lady Elizabeth is my mother …
LADY ELIZABETH. There is no doubt whatever about it, Barnabas.
I am your mother.
KAGHAN. But who was my father?
LADY ELIZABETH. He died very suddenly. Of a fatal accident
When you were very young. That is why you were adopted.
KAGHAN. But what did he do? Was he a financier?
LADY ELIZABETH. He was not good at figures. Your business ability
Comes, I suppose, from my side of the family.
But he was in a very good regiment —
For a time, at least.
KAGHAN. Well, I must get used to that.
But I should like to know how I ought to address you,
Lady Elizabeth. I’ve always been accustomed
To regard Mrs. Kaghan as my mother.
LADY ELIZABETH. Then in order to avoid any danger of confusion
You may address me as Aunt Elizabeth.
KAGHAN. That’s easier, certainly.
LADY ELIZABETH. And I shall wish to meet them.
Claude, we must invite the Kaghans to dinner.
SIR CLAUDE. By all means, Elizabeth.
KAGHAN. But, Lady Elizabeth —
I mean, Aunt Elizabeth: if I call you Aunt Elizabeth
Would you mind very much calling me … just ‘B’?
LADY ELIZABETH. Certainly, if you prefer that, Barnabas.
LUCASTA. Why is it that you don’t like the name of Barnabas?
KAGHAN. I don’t want people calling me ‘Barney’ —
Barney Kaghan! Kaghan’s all right.
But Barney Kaghan — it sounds rather flashy:
It wouldn’t make the right impression in the City.
LUCASTA. When you’re an alderman, you’ll be Sir Barney Kaghan!
LADY ELIZABETH. And I’m very glad you’re announcing your engagement.
Lucasta, I shall take charge of your wedding.
LUCASTA. We’d meant to be married very quietly
In a register office.
LADY ELIZABETH. You must have a church wedding.
MRS. GUZZARD. I am glad to hear you say so, Lady Elizabeth.
But are you satisfied?
LADY ELIZABETH. Satisfied? What about?
MRS. GUZZARD. That your suspicions of me were wholly unfounded.
LADY ELIZABETH. Oh, Mrs. Guzzard, I had no suspicions!
I thought there had been a confusion — that’s all.
MRS. GUZZARD. I feared there might be a confusion in your mind
Between the meaning of confusion and imposture.
SIR CLAUDE. I don’t think there is any confusion now:
I’m sure that my wife is perfectly convinced;
MRS. GUZZARD. That is as much to my interest as anyone’s.
But will your wife be satisfied,
When she has the evidence the Kaghans will supply,
To recognise Barnabas Kaghan as her son?
[To LADY ELIZABETH] Are you contented to have him as your son?
SIR CLAUDE. That seems a strange question, Mrs. Guzzard.
MRS. GUZZARD. I have been asked here to answer strange questions —
And now it is my turn to ask them.
I should like to gratify everyone’s wishes.
LADY ELIZABETH. Oh, of course … Yes, I’m sure … I shall be very happy.
MRS. GUZZARD. You wished for your son, and now you have your son.
We all of us have to adapt ourselves
To the wish that is granted. That can be a painful process,
As I know. And you, Barnabas Kaghan,
Are you satisfied to find yourself the son
Of Lady Elizabeth Mulhammer?
KAGHAN. It’s very much better than being a foundling —
If I can live up to it. And … yes, of course,
If I can make it right with my parents.
I’m fond of them, you know.
LADY ELIZABETH. I shall see to that, Barnabas.
KAGHAN. B. — if you don’t mind, Aunt Elizabeth.
LADY ELIZABETH. B. — and I’m sure we shall become great friends.
EGGERSON. I’m sure we all wish for nothing better.
MRS. GUZZARD. Wishes, when realised, sometimes turn
Against those who have made them.
[To LADY ELIZABETH and KAGHAN] Not, I think, with you.
[To LUCASTA] Nor, so far as I can judge, with you.
Perhaps you are the wisest wisher here:
I shall not ask you whether you are satisfied
To be the wife of Barnabas Kaghan,
The daughter-in-law of Lady Elizabeth,
And the daughter of Sir Claude Mulhammer.
SIR CLAUDE. That is my concern — that she shall be satisfied
To be my daughter.
MRS. GUZZARD. Now, Colby,
I must ask you now, have you had your wish?
SIR CLAUDE. Colby only wanted to be sure of the truth.
COLBY. That is a very strange question, Aunt Sarah:
To which I can only give a strange answer.
Sir Claude is right: I wished to know the truth.
What it is, doesn’t matter. All I wanted was relief
From the nagging annoyance of knowing there’s a fact
That one doesn’t know. But the fact itself
Is unimportant, once one knows it.
MRS. GUZZARD. You had no preference? Between a father and a mother?
COLBY. I’ve never had a father or a mother —
It’s different for B. He’s had his foster-parents,
So he can afford another relationship.
Let my mother rest in peace. As for a father —
I have the idea of a father.
It’s only just come to me. I should like a father
Whom I have never known and couldn’t know now,
Because he would have died before I was born
Or before I could remember; whom I could get to know
Only by report, by documents —
The story of his life, of his success or failure …
Perhaps his failure more than his success —
By objects that belonged to him, and faded photographs
In which I should try to decipher a likeness;
Whose image I could create in my own mind,
To live with that image. An ordinary man
Whose life I could in some way perpetuate
By being the person he would have liked to be,
And by doing the things he had wanted to do.
MRS. GUZZARD. Whose son would you wish to be, Colby:
Sir Claude’s — or the son of some other man
Obscure and silent? A dead man, Colby.
Be careful what you say.
COLBY. A dead obscure man.
MRS. GUZZARD. You shall have your wish. And when you have your wish
You will have to come to terms with it. You shall have a father
Dead, and unknown to you.
SIR CLAUDE. What do you mean?
MRS. GUZZARD. Colby is not your son, Sir Claude.
COLBY. Who was my father, then?
MRS. GUZZARD. Herbert Guzzard.
You are the son of a disappointed musician.
COLBY. And who was my mother?
MRS. GUZZARD. Let your mother rest in peace.
I was your mother; but I chose to be your aunt.
So you may have your wish, and have no mother.
SIR CLAUDE. Mrs. Guzzard, this is perfectly incredible!
You couldn’t have carried out such a deception
Over all these years. And why should you have deceived me?
EGGERSON. Mrs. Guzzard, can you substantiate this statement?
MRS. GUZZARD. Registration of birth. To Herbert and Sarah Guzzard
A son.
EGGERSON. And what about your sister and her child?
MRS. GUZZARD. Registration of death. The child was never born.
SIR CLAUDE. I don’t believe it. I simply can’t believe it.
Mrs. Guzzard, you are inventing this fiction
In response to what Colby said he wanted.
EGGERSON. I’ll examine the records myself, Sir Claude.
Not that we doubt your word, Mrs. Guzzard:
But in a matter of such extreme importance
You’ll understand the need for exact confirmation.
MRS. GUZZARD. I understand that, Mr. Eggerson. Quite well.
SIR CLAUDE. I shall not believe it. I’ll not believe those records.
You pretend to have carried out a deception
For twenty-five years? It’s quite impossible.
MRS. GUZZARD. I had no intention of deceiving you, Sir Claude,
Till you deceived yourself. When you went to Canada
My sister found that she was to have a child:
That much is true. I also was expecting one.
That you did not know. It did not concern you.
As I have just said, my sister died
Before the child could be born. You were very far away;
I sent you a message, which never reached you.
On your return, you came at once to see me;
And I found that I had to break the news to you.
You saw the child. You assumed that it was yours;
And you were so pleased, I shrank, at the moment,
From undeceiving you. And then I thought — why not?
My husband also had died. I was left very poor.
If I let you continue to think the child was yours,
My son was assured of a proper start in life —
That I knew. And it would make you so happy!
If I said the child was mine, what future could he have?
And then I was frightened by what I had done.
Though I had never said ‘this child is yours’,
I feared you would ask for the birth certificate.
You never did. And so it went on.
SIR CLAUDE. This is horribly plausible. But it can’t be true.
MRS. GUZZARD. Consider, Sir Claude. Would I tell you all this
Unless it was true? In telling you the truth
I am sacrificing my ambitions for Colby.
I am sacrificing also my previous sacrifice.
This is even greater than the sacrifice I made
When I let you claim him. Do you think it is a small thing
For me, to see my life’s ambition come to nothing?
When I gave up my place as Colby’s mother
I gave up something I could never have back.
Don’t you understand that this revelation
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Drives the knife deeper and twists it in the wound?
I had very much rather that the facts were otherwise.
COLBY. I believe you. I must believe you:
This gives me freedom.
SIR CLAUDE. But, Colby —
If this should be true — of course it can’t be true! —
But I see you believe it. You want to believe it.