Read Complete Works of James Joyce Online
Authors: Unknown
608
BERTHA
(Watching her.)
It alarmed you? I mean to be awakened at that hour of the morning.
BEATRICE
I am a light sleeper. But I knew he had come from the office and then... I suspected he had written an article about Mr Rowan and that was why he came so late.
BERTHA
How quick you were to think of that!
BEATRICE
Well, after what took place here yesterday afternoon — I mean what Robert said, that Mr Rowan had accepted this position. It was only natural I should think...
BERTHA
Ah, yes. Naturally.
BEATRICE
(Hastily.)
But that is not what alarmed me. But immediately after I heard a noise in my cousin’s room.
BERTHA
(Crumples together the paper in her hands, breathlessly.)
My God! What is it? Tell me.
BEATRICE
(Observing her.)
Why does that upset you so much?
BERTHA
(Sinking back, with a forced laugh.)
Yes, of course, it is very foolish of me. My nerves are all upset. I slept very badly, too. That is why I got up so early. But tell me what was it then?
BEATRICE
Only the noise of his valise being pulled along the floor. Then I heard him walking about his room, whistling softly. And then locking it and strapping it.
BERTHA
He is going away!
BEATRICE
That was what alarmed me. I feared he had had a quarrel with Mr Rowan and that his article was an attack.
BERTHA
But why should they quarrel? Have you noticed anything between them?
BEATRICE
I thought I did. A coldness.
609
BERTHA
Lately?
BEATRICE
For some time past.
BERTHA
(Smoothing the paper out.)
Do you know the reason?
BEATRICE
(Hesitatingly.)
No.
BERTHA
(After a pause.)
Well, but if this article is for him, as you say, they have not quarrelled.
(She reflects a moment.)
And written last night, too.
BEATRICE
Yes. I bought the paper at once to see. But why, then, is he going away so suddenly? I feel that there is something wrong. I feel that something has happened between them.
BERTHA
Would you be sorry?
BEATRICE
I would be very sorry. You see, Mrs Rowan, Robert is my first cousin and it would grieve me very deeply if he were to treat Mr Rowan badly, now that he has come back, or if they had a serious quarrel especially because...
BERTHA
(Toying with the paper.)
Because?
BEATRICE
Because it was my cousin who urged Mr Rowan always to come back. I have that on my conscience.
BERTHA
It should be on Mr Hand’s conscience, should it not?
BEATRICE
(Uncertainly.)
On mine, too. Because — I spoke to my cousin about Mr Rowan when he was away and, to a certain extent, it was I...
BERTHA
(Nods slowly.)
I see. And that is on your conscience. Only that?
BEATRICE
I think so.
BERTHA
(Almost cheerfully.)
It looks as if it was you, Miss Justice, who brought my husband back to Ireland.
BEATRICE
I, Mrs Rowan?
BERTHA
Yes, you. By your letters to him and then by speaking to your cousin as you said just now. Do you not think that you are the person who brought him back?
610
BEATRICE
(Blushing suddenly.)
No. I could not think that.
BERTHA
(Watches her for a moment; then turning aside.)
You know that my husband is writing very much since he came back.
BEATRICE
Is he?
BERTHA
Did you not know?
(She points towards the study.)
He passes the greater part of the night in there writing. Night after night.
BEATRICE
In his study?
BERTHA
Study or bedroom. You may call it what you please. He sleeps there, too, on a sofa. He slept there last night. I can show you if you don’t believe me.
(She rises to go towards the study. Beatrice half rises quickly and makes a gesture of refusal.)
BEATRICE
I believe you, of course, Mrs Rowan, when you tell me.
BERTHA
(Sitting down again.)
Yes. He is writing. And it must be about something which has come into his life lately — since we came back to Ireland. Some change. Do you know that any change has come into his life?
(She looks searchingly at her.)
Do you know it or feel it?
BEATRICE
(Answers her look steadily.)
Mrs Rowan, that is not a question to ask me. If any change has come into his life since he came back you must know and feel it.
BERTHA
You could know it just as well. You are very intimate in this house.
BEATRICE
I am not the only person who is intimate here.
(They both look at each other coldly in silence for some moments. Bertha lays aside the paper and sits down on a chair nearer to Beatrice. )
611
BERTHA
(Placing her hand on Beatrice’s knee.)
So you also hate me, Miss Justice?
BEATRICE
(With an effort.)
Hate you? I?
BERTHA
(Insistently but softly.)
Yes. You know what it means to hate a person?
BEATRICE
Why should I hate you? I have never hated anyone.
BERTHA
Have you ever loved anyone?
(She puts her hand on Beatrice’s wrist.)
Tell me. You have?
BEATRICE
(Also softly.)
Yes. In the past.
BERTHA
Not now?
BEATRICE
No.
BERTHA
Can you say that to me — truly? Look at me.
BEATRICE
(Looks at her.)
Yes, I can.
(A short pause. Bertha withdraws her hand, and turns away her head in some embarrassment.)
BERTHA
You said just now that another person is intimate in this house. You meant your cousin... Was it he?
BEATRICE
Yes.
BERTHA
Have you not forgotten him?
BEATRICE
(Quietly.)
I have tried to.
BERTHA
(Clasping her hands.)
You hate me. You think I am happy. If you only knew how wrong you are!
BEATRICE
(Shakes her head.)
I do not.
BERTHA
Happy! When I do not understand anything that he writes, when I cannot help him in any way, when I don’t even understand half of what he says to me sometimes! You could and you can.
(Excitedly.)
But I am afraid for him, afraid for both of them.
(She stands up suddenly and goes towards the davenport.)
He must not go away like that.
(She takes a writing pad from the drawer and writes a few lines in great haste.)
No, it is impossible! Is he mad to do such a thing?
(Turning to Beatrice.)
Is he still at home?
612
BEATRICE
(Watching her in wonder.)
Yes. Have you written to him to ask him to come here?
BERTHA
(Rises.)
I have. I will send Brigid across with it. Brigid!
(She goes out by the door on the left rapidly.)
BEATRICE
(Gazing after her, instinctively:)
It is true, then!
(She glances toward the door of Richard’s study and catches her head in her hands. Then, recovering herself, she takes the paper from the little table, opens it, takes a spectacle case from her handbag and, putting on a pair of spectacles, bends down, reading it. Richard Rowan enters from the garden. He is dressed as before but wears a soft hat and carries a thin cane.)
RICHARD
(Stands in the doorway, observing her for some moments.)
There are demons
(he points out towards the strand)
out there. I heard them jabbering since dawn.
BEATRICE
(Starts to her feet.)
Mr Rowan!
RICHARD
I assure you. The isle is full of voices. Yours also.
Otherwise I could not see you,
it said. And her voice. But, I assure you, they are all demons. I made the sign of the cross upside down and that silenced them.
BEATRICE
(Stammering.)
I came here, Mr Rowan, so early because... to show you this... Robert wrote it... about you... last night.
RICHARD
(Takes off his hat.)
My dear Miss Justice, you told me yesterday, I think, why you came here and I never forget anything.
(Advancing towards her, holding out his hand.)
Good morning.
BEATRICE
(Suddenly takes of her spectacles and places the paper in his hands.)
I came for this. It is an article about you. Robert wrote it last night. Will you read it?
613
RICHARD
(Bows.)
Read it now? Certainly.
BEATRICE
(Looks at him in despair.)
O, Mr Rowan, it makes me suffer to look at you.
RICHARD
(Opens and reads the paper.) Death of the Very Reverend Canon Mulhall.
Is that it?
(Bertha appears at the door on the left and stands to listen.)
RICHARD
(Turns over a page.)
Yes, here we are!
A Distinguished Irishman. (He begins to read in a rather loud hard voice.)
Not the least vital of the problems which confront our country is the problem of her attitude towards those of her children who, having left her in her hour of need, have been called back to her now on the eve of her longawaited victory, to her whom in loneliness and exile they have at last learned to love. In exile, we have said, but here we must distinguish. There is an economic and there is a spiritual exile. There are those who left her to seek the bread by which men live and there are others, nay, her most favoured children, who left her to seek in other lands that food of the spirit by which a nation of human beings is sustained in life. Those who recall the intellectual life of Dublin of a decade since will have many memories of Mr Rowan. Something of that fierce indignation which lacerated the heart...