Complete Poems and Plays (81 page)

If it is a coincidence. But I’m afraid, Elizabeth,

What has happened is that, brooding on the past,

You began to think of Colby as what your son would be,

And then you began to see him as your son,

And then — any name you heard would have seemed the right one.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
Oh Claude, how can you be so sceptical!

We must see this Mrs. Guzzard, and get her to confess it.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
I’m sorry, Elizabeth. If Mrs. Guzzard comes

To make her confession, it will be very different

From what you expect. I’m afraid, Colby,

It seems to me that we must let her know the truth.

C
OLBY
.
It seems to me … there is nothing for me —

Absolutely nothing — for me to say about it.

I must leave that to you.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
                        I should have told you one day.

I’ve always loathed keeping such a thing from you.

I see now I might as well have told you before,

But I’d hoped — and now it seems a silly thought …

What happens is so like what one had planned for,

And yet such a travesty of all one’s plans —

I’d hoped that you would become fond of Colby,

And that he might come to take the place of your own child,

If you got to know him first — and that you’d want to adopt him.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
But of course I want to adopt him, Claude!

That is, if one’s allowed to adopt one’s own child.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
That’s not what I meant. Elizabeth,

Colby is
my
son.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
Quite impossible, Claude!

You have a daughter. Now you want a son.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
I’d never want to take your son away from you.

Perhaps you have a son. But it isn’t Colby.

I ought to have told you, years ago.

I told you about Lucasta, and you told me

About your own … misfortune. And I almost told you

About Colby. I didn’t. For such a foolish reason.

Absurd it sounds now. One child each —

That seemed fair enough — though yours had been lost,

And mine I couldn’t lose. But if I had another

I thought you might think — ‘and how many more?’

You might have suspected any number of children!

That seems grotesque now. But it influenced me.

And I found a better reason for keeping silent.

I came to see how you longed for a son of your own,

And I thought, I’ll wait for children of
our
own,

And tell her then. And they never came.

And now I regret the decision bitterly.

I ought to have told you that I had a son.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
But why do you think that Colby is your son?

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
Colby is the son of Mrs. Guzzard’s sister,

Who died when he was born. Mrs. Guzzard brought him up,

And I provided for his education.

I have watched him grow. And Mrs. Guzzard

Knows he is my son.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
           But where were you, Claude,

When Colby was born?

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
                       Where was I? In Canada.

My father had sent me on a business tour

To learn about his overseas investments.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
Then how do you know that the sister had a child?

Perhaps Mrs. Guzzard invented the story….

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
Why should she invent it? The child was expected.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
In order to get money from you, perhaps.

No, I shouldn’t say that. But she had a child

Left on her hands. The father had died

And she’d never been told the name of the mother;

And the mother had forgotten the name of Mrs. Guzzard,

And I was the mother and the child was Colby;

And Mrs. Guzzard thought you would be happy

To think you had a son, and would do well by him —

Because you
did
care for the girl, didn’t you?

S
IR
C
LAUDE.
Yes, I did care. Very much. I had never

Been in love before.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
          Very well then.

That is the way it must have happened.

Oh, Claude, you know I’m rather weak in the head

Though I try to be clever. Do try to help me.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
It could have happened. But I’m sure it didn’t.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
Oh, Colby, doesn’t your instinct tell you?

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
Yes, tell us everything that’s in your mind.

I know this situation must be more of an agony

To you, than it can be even to … us.

C
OLBY
.
I only wish it was more acute agony:

I don’t know whether I’ve been suffering or not

During this conversation. I only feel … numb.

If there’s agony, it’s part of a total agony

Which I can’t begin to feel yet. I’m simply indifferent.

And all the time that you’ve been talking

I’ve only been thinking: ‘What does it matter

Whose son I am?’ You don’t understand

That when one has lived without parents, as a child,

There’s a gap that never can be filled. Never.

I like you both, I could even come to love you —

But as friends … older friends. Neither, as a parent.

I am sorry. But that’s why I say it doesn’t matter

To me, which of you should be my parent.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
But a mother, Colby, isn’t that different?

There should always be a bond between mother and son,

No matter how long they have lost each other.

C
OLBY
.
No, Lady Elizabeth. The position is the same

Or crueller. Suppose I am your son.

Then it’s merely a fact. Better not know

Than to know the fact and know it means nothing.

At the time I was born, you might have been my mother,

But you chose not to be. I don’t blame you for that:

God forbid! but we must take the consequences.

At the time when I was born, your being my mother —

If you are my mother — was a living fact.

Now, it is a dead fact, and out of dead facts

Nothing living can spring. Now, it is too late.

I never wanted a parent till now —

I never thought about it. Now, you have made me think,

And I wish that I could have had a father and a mother.

L
ADY
E
LIZABETH
.
Stop, Colby! Something has come to me.

Claude! I don’t want to take away from you

The son you thought was yours. And I know from what you said,

That you would rather he was
ours
than only
yours.

Why should we make any further enquiries?

Let us regard him as being
our
son:

It won’t be the same as what we had wanted —

But in some ways better! And prevent us both

From making unreasonable claims upon you, Colby.

It’s a good idea! Why should we not be happy,

All of us? Already, Claude,

I feel as if this brought us closer together.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
I should be contented with such an understanding;

And indeed, it’s not so far from what I had intended.

Could you accept us both in that way, Colby?

C
OLBY
.
I can only say what I feel at the moment:

And yet I believe I shall always feel the same.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
Well?

C
OLBY
.
                     It would be easier, I think,

To accept you both in the place of parents

If neither of you could be. If it was pure fiction —

One can live on a fiction — but not on such a mixture

Of fiction and fact. Already, it’s been hard

For me, who have never known the feelings of a son,

To be disputed between two parents.

But, if we followed your suggestion,

I know, I know I should always be haunted

By the miserable ghosts of the other parents!

It’s strange enough to have two parents —

But I should have four! What about those others?

I should have to live with those ghosts, one indignant

At being cheated of his — or her — parenthood,

The other indignant at the imputation

Of false parenthood. Both mocked at.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
Then what do you want, Colby? What do you want?

Think of the future. When you marry

You will want parents, for the sake of your children.

C
OLBY
.
I don’t feel, tonight, that I ever want to marry.

You may be right. I can’t take account of that.

But now I want to know whose son I am.

S
IR
C
LAUDE
.
Then the first thing is: we must see Mrs. Guzzard.