The Complete Poems and Plays of T. S. Eliot

by By (author): T. S. Eliot

  I’d say that she suffered all that we should suffer

  In fear and pain and loathing — all these together —

  And reluctance of the body to become a thing.

  I’d say she suffered more, because more conscious

  Than the rest of us. She paid the highest price

  In suffering. That is part of the design.

  LAVINIA. Perhaps she had been through greater agony beforehand.

  I mean — I know nothing of her last two years.

  REILLY. That shows some insight on your part, Mrs. Chamberlayne;

  But such experience can only be hinted at

  In myths and images. To speak about it

  We talk of darkness, labyrinths, Minotaur terrors.

  But that world does not take the place of this one.

  Do you imagine that the Saint in the desert

  With spiritual evil always at his shoulder

  Suffered any less from hunger, damp, exposure,

  Bowel trouble, and the fear of lions,

  Cold of the night and heat of the day, than we should?

  EDWARD. But if this was right — if this was right for Celia —

  There must be something else that is terribly wrong,

  And the rest of us are somehow involved in the wrong.

  I should only speak for myself. I’m sure that I am.

  REILLY. Let me free your mind from one impediment:

  You must try to detach yourself from what you still feel

  As your responsibility.

  EDWARD. I cannot help the feeling

  That, in some way, my responsibility

  Is greater than that of a band of half-crazed savages.

  LAVINIA. Oh, Edward, I knew! I knew what you were thinking!

  Doesn’t it help you, that I feel guilty too?

  REILLY. If we all were judged according to the consequences

  Of all our words and deeds, beyond the intention

  And beyond our limited understanding

  Of ourselves and others, we should all be condemned.

  Mrs. Chamberlayne, I often have to make a decision

  Which may mean restoration or ruin to a patient —

  And sometimes I have made the wrong decision.

  As for Miss Coplestone, because you think her death was waste

  You blame yourselves, and because you blame yourselves

  You think her life was wasted. It was triumphant.

  But I am no more responsible for the triumph —

  And just as responsible for her death as you are.

  LAVINIA. Yet I know I shall go on blaming myself

  For being so unkind to her … so spiteful.

  I shall go on seeing her at the moment

  When she said good-bye to us, two years ago.

  EDWARD. Your responsibility is nothing to mine, Lavinia.

  LAVINIA. I’m not sure about that. If I had understood you

  Then I might not have misunderstood Celia.

  REILLY. You will have to live with these memories and make them

  Into something new. Only by acceptance

  Of the past will you alter its meaning.

  JULIA. Henry, I think it is time that I said something:

  Everyone makes a choice, of one kind or another,

  And then must take the consequences. Celia chose

  A way of which the consequence was Kinkanja.

  Peter chose a way that leads him to Boltwell:

  And he’s got to go there …

  PETER. I see what you mean.

  I wish I didn’t have to. But the car will be waiting,

  And the experts — I’d almost forgotten them.

  I realise that I can’t get out of it —

  And what else can I do?

  ALEX. It is your film.

  And I know that Bela expects great things of it.

  PETER. So now I’ll be going.

  EDWARD. Shall we see you again, Peter,

  Before you leave England?

  LAVINIA. Do try to come to see us.

  You know, I think it would do us all good —

  You and me and Edward … to talk about Celia.

  PETER. Thanks very much. But not this time —

  I simply shan’t be able to.

  EDWARD. But on your next visit?

  PETER. The next time I come to England, I promise you.

  I really do want to see you both, very much.

  Good-bye, Julia. Good-bye, Alex. Good-bye, Sir Henry. [Exit]

  JULIA. … And now the consequence of the Chamberlaynes’ choice

  Is a cocktail party. They must be ready for it.

  Their guests may be arriving at any moment.

  REILLY. Julia, you are right. It is also right

  That the Chamberlaynes should now be giving a party.

  LAVINIA. And I have been thinking, for these last five minutes,

  How I could face my guests. I wish it was over.

  I mean … I am glad you came … I am glad Alex told us …

  And Peter had to know …

  EDWARD. Now I think I understand …

  LAVINIA. Then I hope you will explain it to me!

  EDWARD. Oh, it isn’t much

  That I understand yet! But Sir Henry has been saying,

  I think, that every moment is a fresh beginning;

  And Julia, that life is only keeping on;

  And somehow, the two ideas seem to fit together.

  LAVINIA. But all the same … I don’t want to see these people.

  REILLY. It is your appointed burden. And as for the party,

  I am sure it will be a success.

  JULIA. And I think, Henry,

  That we should leave before the party begins.

  They will get on better without us. You too, Alex.

  LAVINIA. We don’t want you to go!

  ALEX. We have another engagement.

  REILLY. And on this occasion I shall not be unexpected.

  JULIA. Now, Henry. Now, Alex. We’re going to the Gunnings.

  [Exeunt JULIA, REILLY and ALEX]

  LAVINIA. Edward, how am I looking?

  EDWARD. Very well.

  I might almost say, your best. But you always look your best.

  LAVINIA. Oh, Edward, that spoils it. No woman can believe

  That she always looks her best. You’re rather transparent,

  You know, when you’re trying to cheer me up.

  To say I always look my best can only mean the worst.

  EDWARD. I never shall learn how to pay a compliment.

  LAVINIA. What you should have done was to admire my dress.

  EDWARD. But I’ve already told you how much I like it.

  LAVINIA. But so much has happened since then. And besides,

  One sometimes likes to hear the same compliment twice.

  EDWARD. And now for the party.

  LAVINIA. Now for the party.

  EDWARD. It will soon be over.

  LAVINIA. I wish it would begin.

  EDWARD. There’s the doorbell.

  LAVINIA. Oh, I’m glad. It’s begun.

  CURTAIN

  The tune of One-eyed Riley (page 137), as scored from the author’s dictation by Miss Mary Trevelyan.

  The Cast of the First Production

  at the

  Edinburgh Festival,

  August 22–27, 1949

  Directed by E. MARTIN BROWNE

  Settings designed by ANTHONY HOLLAND

  Produced by SHEREK PLAYERS LTD.

  in association with THE ARTS COUNCIL

  THE CONFIDENTIAL CLERK

  Characters

  SIR CLAUDE MULHAMMER

  EGGERSON

  COLBY SIMPKINS

  B. KAGHAN

  LUCASTA ANGEL

  LADY ELIZABETH MULHAMMER

  MRS. GUZZARD

  Act One

  The Business Room on the first floor of SIR CLAUDE MULHAMMER’S London house. Early afternoon. SIR CLAUDE writing at
desk. Enter EGGERSON.

  SIR CLAUDE. Ah, there you are, Eggerson! Punctual as always.

  I’m sorry to have to bring you up to London

  All the way from Joshua Park, on an errand like this.

  But you know my wife wouldn’t like anyone to meet her

  At Northolt, but you. And I couldn’t send Colby.

  That’s not the way to arrange their first meeting,

  On her return from Switzerland.

  EGGERSON. Impossible, Sir Claude!

  A very delicate situation —

  Her first meeting with Mr. Simpkins.

  But I was glad of the excuse for coming up to London:

  I’ve spent the morning shopping! Gardening tools.

  The number of things one needs for a garden!

  And I thought, now’s the moment to buy some new tools

  So as not to lose a moment at the end of the winter

  And I matched some material for Mrs. E.,

  Which she’s been wanting. So she’ll be pleased.

  Then I lunched at the store — they have a restaurant;

  An excellent lunch, and cheap, for nowadays.

  But where’s Mr. Simpkins? Will he be here?

  SIR CLAUDE. I had to send him to the City this morning,

  But he’ll be back, I hope, before you leave.

  EGGERSON. And how’s he getting on? Swimmingly, I’m sure,

  As I’ve heard nothing since the last time I came.

  SIR CLAUDE. Well, of course, Eggerson, you’re irreplaceable …

  EGGERSON. Oh, Sir Claude, you shouldn’t say that!

  Mr. Simpkins is far better qualified than I was

  To be your confidential clerk.

  He was finding his feet, very quickly,

  During the time we worked together.

  All he needs is confidence.

  SIR CLAUDE. And experience.

  With a young man, some readjustment is necessary.

  But I’m satisfied that he’s getting the hang of things,

  And I think he’s beginning to take a keen interest.

  EGGERSON. And getting over his disappointment?

  Of course, I never mentioned that:

  It’s only what you told me.

  SIR CLAUDE. About his music.

  Yes, I think so. I understand his feelings.

  He’s like me, Eggerson. The same disappointment

  In a different form. He won’t forget

  That his great ambition was to be an organist,

  Just as I can’t forget … no matter.

  The great thing was to find something else

  He could do, and do well. And I think he’s found it,

  Just as I did. I shall tell him about myself.

  But so far, I’ve left him to his own devices:

  I thought he would fall into this way of life more quickly

  If we started on a purely business basis.

  EGGERSON. No doubt that’s best. While he’s still living

  With his aunt in Teddington, and coming up daily

  Just as I used to. And the flat in the mews?

  How soon will that be ready for him?

  SIR CLAUDE. They have still to do the walls. And then it must be furnished.

  I’m trying to find him a really good piano.

  EGGERSON. A piano? Yes, I’m sure he’ll feel at home

  When he has a piano. You think of everything.

  But if I might make a suggestion: window boxes!

  He’s expressed such an interest in my garden

  That I think he ought to have window boxes.

  Some day, he’ll want a garden of his own. And yes, a bird bath!

  SIR CLAUDE. A bird bath? In the mews? What’s the point of that?

  EGGERSON. He told me he was very fond of bird watching.

  SIR CLAUDE. But there won’t be any birds — none worth watching.

  EGGERSON. I don’t know, Sir Claude. Only the other day

  I read a letter in The Times about wild birds seen in London:

  And I’m sure Mr. Simpkins will find them if anybody.

  SIR CLAUDE. Well, we’ll leave that for the present. As we have a little time

  Before you start for Northolt — the car will be ready —

  Let’s think what you’re to say to Lady Elizabeth,

  Coming back from the airport, about Colby.

  I think, you ought to give her warning

  Of whom she is to meet on her arrival.

  EGGERSON. How would you like me to approach the subject?

  SIR CLAUDE. Of course, she knows you were wanting to retire,

  As we had some discussion about replacing you.

  But you know she regards you — well, completely

  As one of the household.

  EGGERSON. That’s a great compliment.

  SIR CLAUDE. And well deserved; but rather inconvenient

  When it comes to appointing a successor.

  Makes it very difficult to replace you.

  She thinks she ought to have a hand in the choosing;

  And besides, she is convinced that she, of all people,

  Is a better judge of character than I am.

  EGGERSON. Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Sir Claude!

  She has too much respect for your business genius.

  But it’s true she believes she has what she calls ‘guidance’.

  SIR CLAUDE. Guidance. That’s worse than believing in her judgment:

  We could argue about that. You can’t argue with guidance.

  But if she appears to be puzzled, or annoyed

  At my making the appointment during her absence,

  You must say you had to leave under medical orders.

  She’s always been concerned about your state of health,

  So she’ll be sympathetic. And as for Colby —

  Say that Mr. Simpkins was highly recommended,

  And say that I had to make a quick decision

  Because he’d had another very tempting offer.

  Something like that. Don’t make too much of it.

  And I rather hope that she will take to him at once:

  If so, she is certain to come to believe

  That she chose him herself. By the way, don’t forget

  To let her know that he’s very musical.

  She can take him to concerts. But don’t overdo it!

  EGGERSON. I’ll remember that. Music.

  SIR CLAUDE. And by the way,

  How much have you actually told him about her?

  You remember,1 asked you to prepare him a little;

  There are some things you could say better than I could,

  And ways in which you could reassure him

  Better than I. He’s more at ease with you

  Than he is with me.

  EGGERSON. Oh, you mustn’t say that!

  Though I’ve done my best to gain his confidence.

  I did mention her interest in Light from the East.

  SIR CLAUDE. And the Book of Revelation? And the Wisdom of Atlantis?

  EGGERSON. Well, to tell the truth, Sir Claude, I only touched on these matters,

  They’re much too deep for me. And I thought, Mr. Simpkins,

  He’s highly educated. He’ll soon begin to grasp them.

  No, I haven’t told him much about Lady Elizabeth.

  But there’s one thing I should like to know —

  If you don’t mind — before I go to meet her.

  How soon do you propose to … explain Mr. Simpkins?

  Regularize his position in the household?

  You told me that was your eventual intention.

  SIR CLAUDE. When — or indeed whether — I reveal his identity

  Depends on how she takes to him. This afternoon

  She will only learn that you have finally retired

  And that you have a young successor,

  A Mr. Colby Simpkins.

  EGGERSON. Merely Mr. Simpkins.

  SIR CLAUDE. T
he reasons for starting him during her absence

  Are perfectly clear. But beyond that point

  I haven’t yet explained my plans to you.

  Why I’ve never told her about him,

  The reason for meeting him as merely Mr. Simpkins,

  Is, that she has a strong maternal instinct …

  EGGERSON. I realise that.

  SIR CLAUDE. Which has always been thwarted.

  EGGERSON. I’m sure it’s been a grief to both of you

  That you’ve never had children.

  SIR CLAUDE. No worse, Eggerson,

  Than for you and your wife, to have had a son

  Lost in action, and his grave unknown.

  EGGERSON. And you’re thinking no doubt that Lady Elizabeth

  Would be put in mind of the child she lost.

  SIR CLAUDE. In a very different way, yes. You might say mislaid,

  Since the father is dead, and there’s no way of tracing it.

  Yes, I was thinking of her missing child:

  In the circumstances, that might make her jealous.

  I’ve explained all this to Colby — Mr. Simpkins.

  EGGERSON. I see what you mean.

  SIR CLAUDE. She must get to like him first:

  And then, Eggerson, I am not unhopeful

  That, under the impression that he is an orphan,

  She will want us to adopt him.

  EGGERSON. Adopt him! Yes, indeed,

  That would be the solution. Yes, quite ideal.

  SIR CLAUDE. I’m glad you agree. Your support will be helpful.

  EGGERSON. I’m sure I shall be very happy to commend him.

  SIR CLAUDE. You mustn’t overdo it! But your approval matters.

  You know she thinks the world of your opinion.

  EGGERSON. Well, I believe that once or twice, perhaps …

  But I’m afraid you overrate my influence.

  I have never been able to make her like Miss Angel;

  She becomes abstracted, whenever I mention her.

  SIR CLAUDE. But she knew about Lucasta — Miss Angel, from the start.

  That was one difficulty. And there are others.

  For one, they’re both of them women.

  EGGERSON. True.

  SIR CLAUDE. But I don’t think she takes much notice of Miss Angel.

  She just doesn’t see her. And Miss Angel

  Will soon be getting married, I expect.

  EGGERSON. And so I hope. A most suitable arrangement.

  But will you tell me this: if it comes to the point

  At which Lady Elizabeth wants to adopt him —

  An admirable solution — then what follows?

  Will you let her know, then, that Mr. Simpkins