The Dresser

'German aircraft carried out a number of attacks

'on Great Britain last night.

'The raids, which lasted for several hours,

'were scattered over many parts of the country.

'And the enemy aircraft has been... AIR-RAID SIREN

'..reported over towns on the south coast,

'the west of England, the North Midlands and the north-west,

'as well as over the London area.'

He does nothing but cry. Are they keeping him in?

They wouldn't let me stay.

The doctor said I seemed to make matters worse.

I should never have taken him to the hospital.

I don't know what came over me.

I should have brought him back here where he belongs.

Why is his coat on the floor? And his hat?

Drying out. They're wet through.

Well, how did he come to be in such a state, Norman?

When you telephoned, I thought

at first that he'd been hurt in the air raid. Oh, no.

Or had an accident. Oh, no, not an accident.

No, I know because they said there was no sign of physical injury.

Your Ladyship. He's in a state of collapse. Yes, I know.

Well, how did he get like that?

Your Ladyship... What happened to him? Sit down. Please, sit down.

We must remain calm.

The doctor said it must have been coming on for weeks.

Oh, if not longer. Well, I didn't see him this morning.

He left the digs before I woke. Where was he all day?

Where did you find him? Well, what happened was this, Your Ladyship.

After the last "all clear" sounded, I went into Market Square

just as dusk was coming on.

Peculiar light, ever so yellowish.

I'd hoped to find a packet or two of Brown Polson's cornflour,

since our supplies are rather low.

So I was asking at this stall and that's when I heard his voice.

Whose voice?

Sir's, of course.

He was taking off his overcoat - in this weather!

"God help the man who stops me," he shouted, and then

he threw the coat to the ground just like King Lear in the storm scene.

Look at it. I don't know that I'll ever get it clean.

And he was so proud of it, do you remember...?

Oh, no, perhaps it was before your time.

The first Canadian tour, Toronto.

What happened after he took off his coat?

Started on the hat!

Dunn's, Piccadilly, only a year ago, down on the coat it went and

he jumped on it, he stamped on his hat, viciously stamped on his hat.

Well, you can see.

Then he lifted his arms in the air like he does to convey

sterility into Goneril's womb, "How much further do you want me to go?"

His fingers were all of a fidget, undoing his jacket,

loosening his collar and tie, tearing at the buttons of his shirt.

Were there many people about?

A small crowd. That's why I ran to him.

I didn't want him to stand there looking ridiculous

with people all around, sniggering.

Did he see you? Did he know who you were?

I didn't wait to find out.

I just took his hand and I said,

"Good evening, Sir, shouldn't we be getting to the theatre?"

in my best nanny voice, the one I use when he's being wayward.

He paid no attention. He was shivering.

You shouldn't have let the public see him like that.

It's easy to be wise after the event, if you don't mind

my saying so, Your Ladyship, but I tried to spirit him away,

not easy with a man of his proportions.

Only, just then...

..a woman approached,

quite old, wearing bombazine under a tweed coat

but perfectly respectable.

She'd picked up his clothes and wanted to help him dress.

And Sir said to the lady,

"Thank you, my dear, but Norman usually helps me.

"I'd be lost without Norman," and I thought,

"Well, this is your cue, ducky,"

so I said, "I'm Norman, I'm his dresser."

And the woman, she had her hair in curlers, she took his hand,

she kissed it, and she said,

"You was lovely in The Corsican Brothers."

He looked at her for a long time, then he smiled sweetly,

you know the way he does when he's wanting to charm?

"Thank you, my dear, but you must excuse me.

"I have to make an exit," and he ran off.

He said, "I have to make an exit"?

Well, of course, I followed him, fearing the worst.

I didn't know he could run so fast.

I just followed this trail of discarded clothing, the jacket,

the waistcoat, and I thought,

"We can't have Sir doing a striptease round town."

But then I found him. Leaning up against a lamppost.

Weeping. Where?

Outside the Kardomah.

Without a word, hardly knowing what I was doing,

I led him to the hospital.

The sister didn't recognise him,

although later she said she'd seen him last night as Othello.

A doctor was summoned, short, bald, bespectacled,

and I was excluded by the drawing of screens.

And then you telephoned me. No, I waited.

I lurked, as Edgar says, and I heard the doctor whisper,

"This man is exhausted. This man is in a state of collapse."

And that's how it happened.

AIR-RAID SIREN

He did nothing but cry.

Yes, you said.

I left him lying on top of the bed, still in his clothes, crying,

no, weeping, as though he'd lost control, had no choice,

wept and wept, floodgates.

What are we to do?

In an hour there will be an audience in this theatre

hoping to see him as King Lear.

What AM I to do?

Well, don't upset yourself, for a start.

Well, I've never had to make this sort of decision before.

Any sort of decision before.

As soon as I came out of the hospital I telephoned Madge

and asked her to meet me here as soon as possible.

She'll know what to do. Oh, yes, Madge'll know what to do.

She won't upset herself, that's for certain.

No, Madge will be ever so sensible.

I suppose stage managers have to be.

I had a friend once,

had been a vicar before falling from the pulpit and landing on the stage.

Ever so good as an ugly sister. To the manner born.

His wife didn't upset easily.

Just as well, I suppose, all things considered.

Madge reminds me of her. Cold, businesslike, boring.

The doctor took me into a little room littered with enamel dishes

full of blood-stained bandages.

The smell made me faint.

He asked me about his behaviour in recent days.

Had I noticed anything untoward?

And what did you say? If you don't mind my asking.

I lied.

I said he'd been perfectly normal.

I don't want to appear neglectful.

I should have been more vigilant.

Only last night I woke... FOOTSTEPS

Is that Madge? No, it's Irene.

You were saying? Last night you woke.

He was looking at me. He was naked.

It was bitter cold, he was shivering.

He said, "Thank you for watching over me but don't worry.

"Just go on looking after me.

"I have the feeling I may do something violent."

Talk about untoward.

I'm glad you didn't tell the doctors that,

they'd have locked him up for good.

Last night, after Othello, he asked me,

"What do we play tomorrow, Norman?"

I told him King Lear and he said,

"Then I shall wake with the storm clouds over my head."

I should have made him rest.

The doctor said he'd come to the end of his rope and found it frayed.

So would anyone that had to put up with

what he's had to put up with.

You should've told the doctor about the troubles.

No. Civilians never understand.

I could kick myself for taking him to the hospital.

It was the right thing to do.

I hope so. Doctors.

Can you imagine trying to explain to a doctor what Sir's been through?

"Well, you see, doctor, he's been trying to recruit actors

"for his Shakespeare company and all the able-bodied and best ones

"are in uniform, and the theatres are bombed

"as soon as you book them."

Doctors.

He'd have had his hypodermic rampant before you could say

As You Like It.

Madge is right.

There is no alternative.

We'll have to cancel.

Oh, no, oh, Your Ladyship, no, cancellation's ever so drastic.

He's ill.

There's no crime in being ill, it's not high treason,

it's not a capital offence, it's not desertion in the face of the enemy.

He's not himself. He can't work. Will the world stop turning?

Will the Nazis overrun England?

One Lear more or less in the world won't make any difference.

Sir always believes it will.

Who really cares whether he acts or not?

I never imagined it would end like this.

I've always thought he was indestructible.

All the years we've been together.

Feels like a lifetime.

Even longer, he and I.

It'll be the first time we've ever cancelled.

Look, I want to go to the hospital. No, Norman.

I want to sit with him, be with him

and try to give him some comfort.

I can usually make him smile. Maybe when he sees me...

They wouldn't even let me stay.

I wish I could remember the name of the girl who got me into all this.

Motherly type, she was, small parts, play as cast.

I can see her face clearly.

I can see her standing there, on platform two at Crewe,

a Sunday, I was on platform four. "Norman," she called.

We'd been together in Outward Bound, the number three tour,

helped with the wardrobe I did, and understudied Scrubby, the steward.

That's all aboard a ship, you know. It's a lovely first act.

"We're all dead, aren't we?"

And I say, "Yes, sir, we're all dead. Quite dead."

And he says, "How long have you been...you been...? Oh, you know."

"Me? Oh, I was lost young."

And then he says, "Where...where are we sailing for?"

And I say, "Heaven, sir. And hell, too.

"It's the same place, you see."

Lovely. Well,

to cut a short story shorter, Sir wanted help in the wardrobe

and someone to assist generally but, mainly, with the storm in Lear.

I've told you this before, haven't I?

Put me on the timpani, he did.

And on the first night, after the storm, while he was waiting

to go on for, "No, they cannot touch me for coining", he called me over.

My knees were jelly.

"Were you on the timpani tonight?"

I said, "Yes, sir," fearing the worst. "Thank you," he said.

"You are an artist."

DISTANT FOOTSTEPS

My father was exactly the same.

Always exaggerated his illnesses.

That's why I thought it was not very serious, I thought...

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH

Any further developments?

We had better see the theatre manager.

Perhaps you ought to come with me.

Oh, no, Your Ladyship, please, let's take our time,

let's not rush things. There's no alternative.

Madge is right, we can't play King Lear without the King.

We have to make a decision.

Forgive me, Your Ladyship, it's not a decision you have to make,

it's the right decision.

I had a friend, in a very low state, he was, ever so fragile,

a pain to be with.

You weren't safe from him on top of a bus.

If he happened to sit beside you,

he'd tell you the ABC of unhappiness between request stops.

Someone close to him, his mother, I believe,

although it was never proved,

understandably upset, made a decision.

"A little rest", she said, "with others similarly off-centre,

"in Colwyn Bay", never a good date, not in February,

wrapped in a grey rug, gazing at a grey sea.

Talk about bleak.

Mother-dear made a decision but it was the wrong decision.

And my friend never acted again. We have to face the facts.

I've never done that in my life, Your Ladyship, and I don't see why I should start now.

I just like things to be lovely.

Yes, but things aren't lovely, Norman.

They aren't if you face facts.

Face the facts, it's facing the company I worry about.

I'll be in Madge's office if I'm wanted.

Don't decide yet, Your Ladyship, let me go to the hospital,

let me see how he is, you never know.

I do know. I realise now that I've witnessed a slow running down.

I've heard the hiss of air escaping.

FROM ANOTHER ROOM: Norman! Norman!

Good evening, Sir.

Good evening, Norman. Good evening, Pussy.

Bonzo, why are you here?

Well, my name is on the door. Did the doctors say you could leave?

Doctors?

Executioners.

Do you know what he told me?

A short, bald butcher. Il Duce in a white coat.

When a doctor tells you you need rest, you can be certain

he has not the slightest idea of what is wrong with you.

I discharged myself.

Telephone the hospital. Do not telephone the hospital!

Norman, will you leave us, please?

I'll see Madge and tell her there is an alternative.

Shh-shh!

You're fit for nothing.

Please, Pussy, don't.

Cancel the performance. Can't, mustn't, won't.

Then take the consequences.

When have I not?

Where have you been all day?

Don't tell me you found a brothel in this town.

I can't remember all I've done.

I know towards the evening I was being pursued

but I couldn't see who the villains were.

Then the air-raid warning went. I refused to take shelter.

Wherever I went, I seemed to hear a woman crying.

Then, suddenly,

I had a clear image of my father

on the beach near Lowestoft.

"An actor?" he said, "Never."

"You will be a boat builder like me."

But I defied him and lost his love.

Father preferred people to cower.

But I had to chart my own course.

I decide when I'm ready for the scrapyard. Not you. I.

No-one else. I.

The woman you heard crying was me.

Norman! Sir. I want you by me, Norman.

Yes, sir. Don't leave my side, Norman.

No, sir. I shall need help, Norman. Yes, sir. Madge.

You speak to him. He doesn't listen to a word I say.

He's obviously incapable.

You look exhausted. That's what I call tact.

Are you sure you're able to go on tonight?

How long have you been with me? Longer than anyone else.

Have I ever missed a performance? No, but then you've never been ill.

I only want what's best for you.

What's best for Sir is that he's allowed to get ready.

Ready, yes, I must get ready.

HE WHIMPERS

Ready for what?

If you'll excuse me, Your Ladyship, shouldn't you be getting ready too?

I can't bear to see him like that. Then best to leave us.

I've had experience of these things.

I know what has to be done.

Imagine waking to that night after night.

SHE CHUCKLES

Right, shall we begin at the beginning? Good evening, Sir.

"Good evening, Norman." And how are you this evening, Sir?

"A little tearful, I'm afraid. And you, Norman?"

Oh, I'm very well, thank you.

I've had ever such a quiet day, just ironing your costumes,

cleaning your wig and beard, washing your undies.

And what have you been up to, Sir, if I may ask?

"Oh, I've been jumping on my hat, Norman."

Have you? Well, that's an odd thing to do. May one ask why?

"Why what, Norman?"

Why have we been jumping on our hat, Sir?

SIR GRUMBLES

Shall we play I-Spy?

I spy with my little eye something beginning with...

A.

I know you won't guess, so I'll tell you.

A is for actor.

And actors have to work, and actors have to put on their make-up

and change their frocks and then, of course, actors have to act.

Good lord. Zounds, madam, where dost thou get this knowledge?

From a baboon, sir, that wandered wild in Eden.

Or words to that effect.

There's less than an hour to go and you usually want more.

Drink up. It's tea, not rat poison.

There you go, that's better, isn't it? Isn't it?

I saved some from the mayor's

No?

Would you like one, Norman? Ooh, I say.

Thank you, I will.

If you don't mind my saying so, Sir, there seems little point

So, shall we make a start?

Oh, I know how it feels.

I had a friend,

worse than you, he was,

and all they ever wanted to do with him was put him away.

And no-one should have to go through that.

That's what my friend said.

You know they'll send you to Colwyn Bay

and you never do any business in Colwyn Bay.

An offer of work.

Can you understudy Scrubby? Outward Bound, start Monday.

He discharged himself, just like you, my friend did, took the train

up to London, found digs in Brixton and never looked back.

What do you make of that? An offer of work.

It meant that someone...

..was thinking of him.

It was ever such a comfort.

And here's something to cheer you up.

A full house tonight.

People thinking of you, wanting to see you act.

Really? A full house? Now, shall we make a start?

What play is it tonight? King Lear, Sir.

That's impossible.

Oh, thank you. Oh, that's nice, isn't it(?!)

People paying good money to see you and you say "impossible".

Very nice indeed(!) I don't think. I don't want to be seen.

Well, that's difficult

when you're playing King Lear with the lighting you use.

I don't want to see her ladyship.

Oh, well, even more difficult when she's playing your daughter.

You saw her a moment ago. You were alone together.

Were we?

What play is it tonight?

King Lear, Sir.

Madge was wrong.

Yes, well, she often is.

I have been ill before this.

Did you ever see me in The Corsican Brothers?

Ah, no. Alas, sir, before my time.

I went on with double pneumonia then.

Apt when you're playing the Corsican brothers.

I'd rather have double pneumonia than this.

Than what?

What prevents me from packing up and going home?

Why am I here when I should be asleep?

Wasn't that a strange light in Market Square this evening?

I don't remember being in Market Square.

You've been missing whole days. What do you remember?

Walking, walking, walking. If only I could find a good, catchy title.

I think My Life a little plain, don't you?

Still stuck, are we? No, no. I wrote a little today.

Two or three sides of an exercise book.

But I can't find a title. Oh, well, we'll think of something.

See if it's still in my jacket. And my reading glasses.

I thought I had written today.

No, well, you'll not see much through those.

Well, look for me.

Is there anything?

Evidently not. It cannot be Lear again.

Shall we start our make-up?

I'm getting out of here.

I'm not staying in this place a moment longer.

I am surrounded by vipers, betrayal on every side.

I am being crushed, the lifeblood is draining out of me.

The load is too much.

Norman, Norman, if you have any regard for me, don't listen to him.

Who? Who? More, more, more, I cannot give any more.

I have nothing more to give. I want a tranquil senility.

I'm an old man.

I don't want to go on painting my face night after night

after night, dressing up in clothes that are not my own,

I'm not a child dressing up for charades.

This is my work, this is my life's work, I'm an actor.

Who cares if I go out there tonight

or any other night and shorten my life?

Shorten my life...

I don't care if there's only three people out front,

or if the audience laughs when they shouldn't, or don't

when they should, one person, just one person will know and understand.

And I act for him.

I cannot move that which cannot be moved.

What are we on about now?

I'm filled inside with stone.

Stone upon stone. I cannot lift myself.

The weight is too much. Oh, I know futility when I see it.

I dream at night of unseen hands driving wooden stakes into my feet.

And the dream is long and graceless. I awake, sweat-drenched, poisoned.

And the whole day long there is a burning heat inside of me,

driving all else from my mind.

HE GRUNTS

What did I do today?

You walked. You thought you wrote.

You went into Market Square.

And a woman kissed your hand

and said you were lovely in The Corsican Brothers.

How do you know all this? Has someone been talking?

I don't wish to hurry you, Sir.

No, I lie, I do.

I hate the swines. Who?

He's a hard task-master, he drives me too hard.

I have too much to carry.

(Yes?)

I'd like to see him. (I'd rather you didn't.)

It's my responsibility to take the curtain up tonight.

There isn't much time.

(Things have reached a delicate stage.)

What's all the whispering? Nothing, nothing.

Has he begun to make-up yet? Not yet. Do you realise how late it is?

They'll be calling the half in a moment.

I know how late it is. SIR HUMS A TUNE LOUDLY

Then on your head be it.

Oh, look! A dressing-gown!

Shall we put it on and keep ourselves warm?

What does it matter where you were or what you did today?

You're here in the theatre, safe and sound, where you belong.

Another full house. Lovely.

Really? A full house?

They'll be standing in the gods.

Do you know they bombed The Grand Theatre, Plymouth?

And much else of the city besides.

I made my debut at The Grand Theatre, Plymouth.

They weren't to know.

I shouldn't have come out this autumn but I had no choice.

He made me. Who?

I should have rested.

I had a friend that was ordered to rest.

He obeyed and that was the end of him.

He was ever so ill.

Nearly became a Catholic.

Right, now, would you like a little rub-down?

I'm not surprised you're feeling dispirited.

It's been ever such a hard time.

No young men to play juveniles and the trouble with Mr Davenport-Scott.

What news of Mr Davenport-Scott?

The police have opposed bail. What?

Well, he'd had his second warning. How then do we dispose our forces?

Mr Thornton is standing by to play Fool.

And who as Oswald? Mr Brown, I'm afraid.

That leaves me a knight short for "reason not the need".

98 short, actually, if you take the text as gospel.

One more or less won't seem too upsetting.

Herr Hitler has made it very difficult

for Shakespearean companies. It'll be a chapter in the book, Sir.

I hate to mention it but we're going to be short for the storm.

We've no-one to operate the wind machine,

not if Mr Thornton is to play Fool.

Mr Thornton was ever so good on the wind machine.

Madge knows the problem but she's very unsympathetic.

You tell Madge from me I must have the storm at full strength.

What about Oxenby? Not the most amenable of gentlemen.

Send him to me at the half. I'll have a word with him.

Better talk to Thornton, too.

There you are, you see?

That's more like it.

You're where you belong, doing what you know best,

and you're yourself again.

Right, well, you start doing your make-up and I'll go

and tell them to come and see you.

I've cleaned the wig and beard.

Shan't be a minute.

Oh, no, Sir! Not Othello!

The lines are fouled. Up on your short, down on your long.

Is there a dead for it?

Instruct the puppeteer to renew the strings.

The stuffing is escaping at the seams,

straw from a scarecrow lies scattered down, stage left.

I would have given anything to see the play tonight.

There's you all blacked up and Cordelia saying,

"You beget me, bred me, loved me."

Well, the time has come, if you don't mind my saying so,

to stop waxing poetical and to wax a bit more practical.

KNOCKING Who?

Irene.

I've come for the triple crown. Enter.

Good evening, Sir.

All well? Yes, thank you, Sir.

You've come for the triple crown.

Yes, Sir.

Polish it well. I like it gleaming.

Yes, Sir.

And return it to me well before curtain up.

I like to wear it by the quarter. Yes, Sir.

And when I have used it on stage,

see that it is returned to my room after the interval.

She has done it before, Sir.

I like to be certain.

There it is, my child.

Pretty young thing, aren't you?

Thank you, Sir.

Sir, it's time to age.

They're all the same colour. Which stick do I use?

I can't see the colours.

What now? How is he?

He'll be all right if he's left in peace.

I want to see with my own eyes. No, no, he is not to be disturbed.

And what about the understudies?

He knows all about it, everything's in hand.

You realise now there's going to be an audience out there.

It'd be a bit silly going through all this if there wasn't.

Will he be ready on time? Will he be well enough? Yes.

Madge, can I just, erm...?

Who was that? Just a minion minioning.

Too many interruptions, my concentration.

Norman. Yes, Sir?

How does the play begin?

Which play, Sir?

Tonight's, tonight's, I cannot remember the first line.

"Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester."

Yes, yes.

What performance is this?

Tonight will be your...

227th performance of the part, Sir.

227 Lears and I cannot remember the first line.

Haven't we forgotten something else, Sir?

If you don't mind my asking. We have to sink our cheeks.

I shall look like this in my coffin.

And a broad straight line of number 20 down the nose.

'Give you strength, you say.'

'Surgical spirit.'

'I know how to stick on a beard.

'I've been a depicter for 50 years.'

'I shall need a rest after the storm scenes.'

'There's no need to tell me. I know.'

'And shall we take extra care with the wig join tonight?'

'I shall give them a good one tonight.'

Norman! Yes, Sir?

What's the first line again? All this clitter-clatter-chitter-chatter...

"Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester."

You've put it out of my mind. Keep silent when I'm dressing.

I have work to do, hard bloody labour.

Sir, Sir. I cannot remember the first line. 100,000 performances

and I have to ask you for the first line.

Yes, I'll take you through it. Take me through it?

Nobody takes you through it, you're put through it,

night after night after night. I haven't the strength.

And you're a fine one.

I must say, you of all people,

you disappoint me, if you don't mind my saying so.

You, who always say that self-pity is the most unattractive

quality on stage or off.

Who have you been working for all these years?

The Ministry of Information?

Struggle and survival, you say, that's all that matters.

The whole world's struggling for bloody survival, so why can't you?

My dear Norman, I seem to have upset you. I'm sorry.

I understand. We cannot always be strong.

There is danger in covering the cracks.

Never mind about covering the cracks,

what about covering the wig join?

KNOCKING Half an hour, please, Sir. Already?

You were in late this evening, Sir.

She hasn't returned with the triple crown.

I like it on my head by now.

Look! What?

My hands, they're shaking.

Well, they'll be very effective in the part.

Don't forget to make them up. I can't stop them. You do it.

Oh, oh, look here.

Look here, it must be infectious.

I can face the division of my kingdom.

I can cope with Fool.

I can bear the reduction of my retinue.

I can stomach the curses I have to utter.

I can even face being whipped by the storm.

But I dread the final entrance.

To carry my Cordelia...

dead, dead.

To cry like the wind, howl, howl, howl.

To lay her gently on the ground, to die.

Have I the strength?

If you haven't the strength, no-one has.

You're a good friend, Norman.

Thank you, Sir.

You shall be rewarded. Pardon me while I get my violin.

Do not mock me. I may not have long.

My father used to say that. He lived till he was 93.

He may still be alive, for all I know.

Bonzo, how do you feel?

A little more myself, Pussy.

You see? Once he's assumed the disguise, he's a different man.

"Egad, Madam, thou hast a porcupine wit."

And are you sure you're able to go on?

On and on and on.

Pussy, I thought it was the black one tonight.

My dear. Did I wake in the night, Pussy?

Did I thank you for watching over me?

Was there talk of violence?

No, Bonzo, you dreamt it.

I still have the feeling.

Would you like me to fetch the cloak and tie it on as usual?

Yes, as usual.

Oh, erm, Mr Thornton and Mr Oxenby

are waiting outside to see you.

Would you like me to ask them to come in?

I don't want to see Oxenby. He frightens me.

Mind you, he was the best Iago I've ever had or seen

and I include that 4'6" ponce Sir Arthur Palgrove.

That's more like the Sir we know and love.

He went on playing Hamlet till he was 68.

There were more lines on his face than steps to the gallery.

I saw his Lear. I was pleasantly disappointed. Sir Arthur Palgrove.

Who advises His Majesty, answer me that?

You're a miracle-worker, Norman. Thank you, Your Ladyship.

(Here's a piece of chocolate for you.)

(Oh, thank you, Your Ladyship.)

It'll be all hands to the pump tonight, Norman.

A small part of the service, Your Ladyship. Thank you.

Don't suppose I didn't see that because I did.

There are more children in this beloved land of ours scavenging

the larders for something sweet,

if only they came to me I could tell them of

the one person in England who has an inexhaustible supply of chocolate.

Because it is I who have to carry her dead as my Cordelia.

It is I who have to lift her up in my arms.

Thank Christ, I thought, for rationing

but, no, she would find sugar in a sand dune.

Shall I show the actors in, Sir?

What? No, I don't want... Sir, you have to see the actors.

Ah, Mr Thorton. Mr Thornton to see you, Sir.

SIR GARGLES

Geoffrey, does the costume fit?

Mr Davenport-Scott was such a tall man.

Mr Davenport-Scott was a worm. You look, er...

Do you know the lines? Yes.

Don't keep me waiting for them.

Oh, no. Pace, pace, pace, pace, pace, pace.

Yes. And keep out of my focus. Yes.

The boom lights placed in the downstage wings

are for me and me only. Yes, old man, I know.

You must find what light you can. Right.

Let me hear you sing. What?

"For he that has the little tiny wit. Heigh-ho..."

WHIMPERING: He...he...

# He that has the little tiny wit... #

HE WHIMPERS

# He that has and a little tiny wit

# With a heigh-ho, the wind and the rain

# Must make content with fortunes fit

# For the rain it raineth every day. #

All right, speak it, don't sing it.

And in the storm scene, if you are going to put your arms around

my legs, as Mr Davenport-Scott did, then around my calves, not my thighs.

He almost ruptured me twice.

I'd rather I didn't, old man.

Feel it, my boy, feel it, it is the only way.

Whatever takes you. Right.

But do not let it take you too much. Remain within the bounds.

And, at all costs, remain still when I speak. Of course.

Serve the playwright...

and keep your teeth in.

It's only when I'm nervous.

You will be nervous, I guarantee it.

There will be no extra payment for this performance.

I believe your contract is play as cast. Yes.

Good fortune attend your endeavours. Thank you, Sir.

(God bless, Geoffrey.)

(I'd rather face the Nazi hordes any day.)

I hope Mr Churchill has better men in the cabinet.

Mr Oxenby is waiting, Sir. Oxenby?

What...what...? I don't know. What does Oxenby want?

It's not what he wants,

it's what we want - someone to operate the wind machine.

I don't want to see Oxenby, I can't bear the man,

it's stifling in here.

We'll have no storm without him.

Mr Oxenby to see you, Sir.

You wanted to see me?

I...I don't know, erm, why? Er, Norman?

Sir was wondering if he could ask of you a favour.

He can ask.

You've not been with us very long

but I'm sure you've seen enough to know that we're not

so much a company as one great big happy family.

And...

we all muck in as required.

As I'm sure you've heard,

Mr Davenport-Scott will not be rejoining the company.

Yes, I've heard.

You share a dressing-room with one or two of them,

you hear nothing else.

It upsets the pansy fraternity

when one of their number is caught.

Because Mr Thornton is having to play Fool,

and because our two elderly knights are setting the hovel behind

the cloth during the storm scene,

we've no-one to operate the wind machine.

We'd ask Mr Brown but he's really rather too fragile.

We were wondering if you'd turn the handle.

In short, no.

Anything else?

Has he read my play yet?

Perhaps the Russians have had a setback on the Eastern Front.

Bolshevism will be the ruin of the theatre.

What are we going to do? Fancy not wanting to muck in.

He hates me. I can feel his hatred.

All I stand for he despises.

I wouldn't read his play, even if he were Commissar of Culture.

I've read it. Is there a part for me? Yes.

I know what Oxenby's up to.

He's writing plays for critics, not people.

Oughtn't we to be quiet for a bit, Sir?

Where's the girl with the triple crown?

Don't fuss. I'll go and find her.

Oh, my dear.

Norman's just gone to find you.

Has he? I must have missed him.

Remind me of your name, child.

It's Irene, Sir.

Irene. Charming.

Were you at the Rada?

No, sir. I went straight into Rep.

Of course. I remember. Which Rep?

Maidenhead. Maidenhead, yes.

Next week in Eastbourne.

KNOCKING I can't find her.

Just admiring her bone structure. Run along, Irene. Run along.

BELL RINGS

A born actress. Can tell by the cheek bones.

Put the crown on. It's almost the quarter.

Shall I fetch her ladyship and ask her to tie on the cloak?

How does the play begin? God help me, that child has

driven it from my mind. KNOCKING

Quarter of an hour, please, a few minutes late, I'm sorry,

that girl Irene is going to be the death of me.

The quarter, I can't, I'm not ready, tell them to go home,

give them their money back. I hate the swines, I can't, I can't.

What are you saying? Do you want the performance cancelled?

No, he doesn't. How does it begin?

For your own good. How does it begin?

You'll never get through it. He will. How does it begin?!

Get out, he'll be good and ready when the curtain goes up.

We've run out of time.

There's 20 minutes yet. We'll go up late, if necessary.

Leave me in peace! I cannot remember the lines.

Norman, Norman, how does it begin?

"He hath been out nine years and away he shall again."

HE MIMICS A TRUMPET "The King is coming."

"Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester."

"Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester."

"I shall, my liege."

Yes? "Meantime we shall express our darker..."

"Meantime we shall express our darker purpose."

"Give me the map."

Don't tell me, don't tell me, I know it!

I'll ask for it if I need it.

I have played this part before, you know.

"What do I fear?"

Wrong. "Know we have divided in three."

"Myself? There's none else by.

"True, I talk of dreams, which are the children of a troubled brain."

Wrong play, wrong play.

"Can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France?"

No, that's another wrong play.

"Men should be what they seem. Macbeth shall sleep no more!

Now look what you've gone and done. What?

Go out, go out.

You've quoted the Scottish play.

Did I? Macb...? Did I?

Oh, Christ. Out!

Turn round three times.

Two, three...

Right, knock.

Swear.

Pisspots. KNOCKING

BELL RINGS

"And my poor fool is hang'd."

You'll be all right.

FROM ANOTHER ROOM: Do we have a full house?

Struggle, Bonzo.

Survival, Pussy.

FROM OUTSIDE: Beginners, please, Act I.

Beginners, please, Sir. Thank you.

Let us descend and survey the scene of battle.

AIR-RAID SIREN

The night I played my first Lear there was a thunderstorm.

A real thunderstorm. But now they send bombs.

How much more have I to endure?

We are to speak Shakespeare tonight

and they will go to any lengths to prevent me.

I shouldn't take it too personally, Sir.

LAUGHTER

Bomb, bomb, bomb us into submission if you dare!

But each word I speak will be a shield against your savagery,

each line I utter a protection against your terror.

I don't think they can hear you, Sir.

Swines! Barbarians!

BOMB HITS CLOSE BY

HE GROANS

Oh, no. Oh, Sir.

Just as we were winning.

Perhaps it's timely. He can't go on. Look at him. Fetch Madge.

Norman! Sir.

Get me down to the stage. Yes.

By Christ, no squadron of Fascist Bolsheviks will stop me now.

Do as I say!

BOMBS DROP IN THE DISTANCE

How is he? Who'll make the announcement?

Mr Davenport-Scott, of course.

No! Oh, dear! You, then, Norman.

Me, Sir? Do not argue, I've given my orders,

I have enough to contend with.

Sir, I'm not equipped. Do it!

Come on.

Take the apron off, for goodness' sake.

PLANE FLIES OVERHEAD BOMB CRASHES

Ladies and gentlemen...

Ladies and gentlemen, the warning has just gone.

An air-raid is in progress.

We shall proceed with the performance.

MUTTERING

Will those... Will those who wish to live...

CHUCKLES

Will anyone who wishes to leave do so as quietly as possible?

Thank you.

APPLAUSE

Stand by.

Stand by on tabs.

(Stand by on stage.)

Go LX. Go flies. Curtain going up.

I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.

It did always seem so to us.

Geoffrey, was I all right?

Yes, yes, old man, damn good.

Your Ladyship, was I all right?

Better than Mr Davenport-Scott.

Really? Do you mean that?

I was ever so nervous.

Do you think anyone noticed the slip?

"Will those who wish to live..."

Ooh, I could have kicked myself.

I was really all right? You were fine.

Did he say anything? No.

Cueing grams.

My services to Your Lordship.

Stand by, please. All right, Sir.

Cueing timpani, Sir.

The King is coming. APPLAUSE

Sir? What?

Her Ladyship's entered.

Oh, quite a nice round, so it's your turn now.

You see? What did I say?

Please, Sir, the entrance. You're on.

Please, Sir, it's your entrance.

Methought I saw him.

His procession formed,

100 knights his escort...

Mr Oxenby's having to extemporize.

"Attend the lords of France and Burgundy".

The King, my father, was, methought, behind me.

From our camp we marched, a goodly distance,

I ahead, as is our custom.

Sir, the natives are getting restless.

Sound the fanfare again.

DISTANT EXPLOSION

Ah! Methinks I see the King.

IMPACT OVERHEAD AUDIENCE GASPS

No, I was mistook.

My Lord, with thy consent, I shall to his majestic side,

there to discover his royal progress.

Is he coming or isn't he? Yes!

I'm cueing the King's fanfare again.

"Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester."

FANFARE Cue the knights, cue the knights.

Oh! Go on, go on.

Enter, for God's sake.

APPLAUSE

Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.

I shall, my liege.

Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. Give me the map there.

Know that we have divided in three our kingdom, and 'tis our fast

intent to shake all cares and business from our age, conferring

them on younger selves, while we, unburdened

Thou art a lady, if only to go warm were gorgeous.

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st,

which scarcely keeps thee warm.

But for true need,

you heavens, give me that patience,

patience I need.

You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,

as full of grief as age, wretched in both.

If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts

And let not women's weapons, water-drops, stain my man's cheeks!

No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both.

That all the world shall - I will do such things -

break into 100,000 flaws or ere I'll weep.

O, fool! I shall go mad.

THUNDER SHEET BOOMS

I know you. Where's the king?

Stay out of my focus, Geoffrey.

Contending with the fretful elements.

Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea or swell the curled waters

'bove the main, That things might change or cease.

Geoffrey, wait. Don't get in the light. Don't hold up, no pauses.

Just keep the pace going. Pace, pace, pace, pace, pace.

A fie on this storm! Stand by.

I shall go seek the King.

Rage, blow, you cataracts and hurricanoes, strike.

Come on, come on!

Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.

So old and white as this. O, ho, 'tis foul!

Where was the storm? Where was the storm?

I ask for cataracts and hurricanoes and I am given

nothing but trickles and whistles.

I demand oak-cleaving thunderbolts and you answer with farting flies.

THUNDER SHEET BOOMS

Norman, Norman, you have thwarted me.

I was there, within sight, I had only to be spurred upwards

and the glory was mine for the plucking and there was naught,

zero, silence, a breeze, oh, a breeze!

A shower, a collision of cotton-wool,

a flapping of butterfly wings. I want a tempest not a drizzle.

Something will have to be done.

I demand to know what happened tonight to the storm!

I'm pleased you're pleased.

I've never known you not complain when you've really been at it

and, tonight, one could safely say, without fear of contradiction,

you were at it.

Go on, rest now.

You've the interval and all of Gloucester's blinding before,

"No, they cannot touch me for coining."

Try to sleep.

You've been through it.

Or been put through it,

whichever you prefer.

And you need quiet, as the deaf-mute said to the piano tuner.

Mighty, Her Ladyship thought you were tonight, she did,

that was the word she used.

"Mighty."

Of course, I cannot comment on the storm scene but I did hear,

"O Reason not the need".

Tremble-making.

Never seen you so full of the real thing,

if you don't mind my saying so, Sir.

And here's a funny thing.

In the storm scene, while we were beating ourselves delirious

and I was having to jump between thunder sheet

and timpani,

like a juggler with rubber balls and Indian clubs,

Mr Oxenby came to our aid, uninvited.

Not a word said, just gave assistance

when assistance was needed.

Afterwards, just before the interval, I thanked him.

"Get stuffed," he said, which wasn't nice.

And then he added, scornfully, "I don't know why I helped."

And I said, "Because we are a band of brothers,

"and you're one of us in spite of yourself."

I did, that's what I said.

He hobbled away, his head down

and if he was given to muttering,

he'd have muttered.

Darkly.

Are you asleep, Sir?

To be driven thus.

I hate the swines.

Who? Who is it that you hate?

The critics?

The critics? Hate the critics?

I have nothing but compassion for them.

How can one hate the crippled, the mentally deficient and the dead?

Bastards. Who then? Who then what?

Who then is it that you hate?

Let me rest, Norman, you must stop questioning me, let me rest.

But don't leave me till I'm asleep. Don't leave me alone.

I am a spent force. My days are numbered.

Is he asleep? I think so, yes.

I'll sit with him.

Well, don't wake him, Your Ladyship. He's ever so tired.

METAL CLANGS

Is it my cue?

No, it's still the interval.

I have things to say.

Norman tells me you thought I was mighty tonight.

I never said anything of the kind. He makes these things up.

What have you to say?

What I always have to say.

You know my answer.

You've worked hard.

You've saved.

Enough's enough.

Tonight, in your curtain speech,

make the announcement.

I can't.

You won't. I have no choice.

You'll die.

Or end up a vegetable!

Well, that's your affair.

But you're not going to drag me with you.

I am helpless, Pussy. I do what I'm told.

I cower, I'm frightened of being whipped, I am driven.

Driven? No. Cruel? Yes,

Obstinate? Yes. Ruthless? Yes.

Don't! For an actor, you have a woeful lack of insight.

Use your great imagination,

use your inspired gifts,

try to imagine what I feel,

what I'm forced to go through.

I do! But I need you beside me,

familiar, real!

I am beside you, darning tights. Very familiar, quite real.

All I ask, Bonzo, is that we stop.

Now, tonight, the end of the week - but no more.

I can't take any more.

It's not possible. It is possible.

No. You deceive no-one but yourself.

If that were true, why then am I here, with bombs falling, risking life and limb? Why?

Not by choice. I have a duty. I have to keep the faith.

Oh, balls!

What?

You do nothing without self-interest.

And you drag everyone with you.

Me - chained, not even by law.

Oh, would marriage have made that much difference to you?

You misunderstand, deliberately.

I should have made her divorce me, yeah!

You didn't get a divorce because you wanted a knighthood.

That's not true. True? You know where your priorities lie.

Whatever you do is to your advantage and to no-one else's.

Talk about being driven.

You make yourself sound like a disinterested stagehand.

You do nothing without self-interest.

You. Self. Alone.

Pussy, please, I'm sinking. Do not push me further into the mud.

Sir. Her Ladyship. Fantasies.

For God's sake, you're a third-rate actor-manager

on a tatty tour of the provinces,

not some Colossus bestriding the narrow world.

Sir, Her Ladyship(!) Look at me - darning tights.

Look at you.

Lear's hovel is luxury compared to this.

I'm not well, I have half of Lear's life ahead of me,

I have to carry you in my arms,

I have "Howl, howl, howl!" yet to speak!

"Sir", "Her Ladyship" - We're a laughing-stock!

You'd never get a knighthood

because the King doesn't possess a double-edged sword.

Do you remember, years ago, an actress, one of our Gonerils?

She was a tall, dark, handsome girl with a Grecian nose.

Flora Bacon.

Was it? Yes, perhaps it was.

Flora.

Do you remember the night I was rather hard on Norman

because he'd got my tights inside out

during the quick change in The Wandering Jew?

Or was it The Sign Of The Cross?

Whichever.

She turned on me.

"He may be your servant," she said, "but he is a human being."

Then, to Norman, she said, "Why don't you leave him?

"Why do you put up with it?" And Norman said, "Don't fuss. He only gives as good as he gets.

"He has to take it out on someone," he said.

And he was right. Because Flora Bacon didn't understand.

Slave driver she called me.

Why ever did I employ her?

Her mother was Lady Bacon. She invested ?200 in the company.

I thought tonight I caught sight of him, or saw myself as he sees me.

Speaking, "Reason not the need."

"Go on, you bastard," I seemed to be saying or hearing.

"Go on, you've more to give. Don't hold back. More, more, more!"

And I was watching Lear.

Yes!

Each word he spoke was fresh invented.

I had no knowledge of what came next, what fate awaited him.

The agony was in the moment of acting created.

Ha!

And I saw an old man.

And the old man...

..was me.

Don't leave me.

I'll rest easy if you stay.

But don't ask of me the impossible.

Otherwise...

..without you, in darkness,

I will see a locked door,

a sign, "Closed", in the window,

"Closed - gone away".

And a drawn blind.

I'll stay till Norman returns.

HE LAUGHS

I meant longer.

Please.

Oh, please, Pussy.

HE GASPS

Reassure me.

I'm sick.

Sick.

Yes, so am I.

Sick.

I'm sick of cold railway trains,

cold waiting rooms,

cold Sundays on Crewe,

and eating cold food late at night.

I'm sick of packing and unpacking

and of darning tights.

I'm sick of the smell of rotting costumes and naphthalene.

And most of all,

I'm sick of reading week after week

that I'm barely adequate, too old,

the best of a bad supporting cast.

Unequal to you, unworthy of your gifts.

And I'm sick of having to put on a brave face.

I should have left you in Baltimore on the last American tour.

I should have accepted Mr Feldman's offer

and taken the 20th Century west.

Feldman thought I wouldn't photograph well.

Swine.

I hate the cinema.

I believe in living things.

How quickly one's looks go.

They haven't built a camera large enough to record me.

I wouldn't have minded a modest success.

Why they knighted that dwarf Arthur Palgrove I shall never know.

"Arise, Sir Arthur," said the King. "But, Sir, I wasn't kneeling."

Not once in his whole career did he put a toe outside London.

I liked America.

I hated the swines.

KNOCK AT DOOR 'Act Two beginners, please!'

I must rest now, Pussy. I want peace.

All you want is to have your cake and to eat it.

I've never seen any point in having cake unless one is going to eat it.

Ha-ha(!) Ha-ha ha-ha(!)

Everything jolly?

Don't you know what knocking is?

Oh, please, Sir - not in front of Her Ladyship.

Well, I've been mingling.

You should hear what they think out there -

I have never known an interval like it.

Michelangelo, William Blake -

God knows who else you reminded them of.

One poor boy...

..an airman, head bandaged,

was weeping in the stalls bar,

comforted by an older man -

once blonde, now grey, parchment skin and dainty hands -

who went on saying, "There, there, Evelyn, it's only a play."

Which didn't seem to me any comfort at all

because, if it hadn't been a play,

then "There-there-Evelyn" wouldn't be so upset.

Michelangelo, did they?

And Blake.

I'm going to my room.

Please stay.

You must rest, Bonzo - mustn't he Norman?

Yes, he must.

Pussy...

Be gentle with Her Ladyship.

I'm always gentle with Her Ladyship.

Especially gentle.

Why?

Time of life.

Ohh!

You mean flushes and dizzy spells?

She's become very preoccupied with herself.

Sounds like a bad attack of change.

Be gentle. I don't want her hurt.

BELL RINGS

Ai-ai!

Sleep now.

Is there anything else you want?

Oblivion.

That'll come sooner or later.

And I hope later.

I shall wake you in plenty of time

so you can enter fantastically dressed in wild flowers.

Sleep tight, don't let the bugs bite.

Fetch Madge!

KNOCK ON DOOR

Yes?

It's going well, I think.

Except for your first entrance.

Come here.

Hold my hand.

Please.

It's like ice.

Cold with fear.

What are you frightened of?

Of what is to come.

You know who you're talking to, do you?

It's me, not someone to impress.

I'm speaking from my heart.

I have never before felt so lonely.

Please, I have a show to run... Listen to me.

I am frightened of what is to come.

And I meant it, because, for the first time in my life,

the future is hidden from me.

I see no friends.

I am not warmed by fellowship.

I know only...

awful solitude.

An occupational hazard.

You wanted to see me, about what?

I look on you as my one true friend.

I have to go back to the corner.

Have you been happy?

Has it been worth it?

No, I've not been happy.

Yes, it's been worth it.

Madge, dear...

In my will, I've left you all my press-cutting books.

I don't want to hear what you've left me in your will.

Cuttings and notices that span a lifetime, an entire career.

I've kept them religiously.

Good and bad notices alike.

Not all that many bad.

Talk of me sometimes. Speak well of me.

Actors live on only in the memory of others.

Speak well of me.

This is a ridiculous conversation.

You're in the middle of a performance of Lear,

playing rather less mechanically than you have of late,

and you talk as if you're organising your own memorial service.

The most wonderful thing in life is to be remembered.

Speak well of me.

You'll be believed.

You'll be remembered.

Madge, dear...

I have something for you.

I want you to have this ring.

If possessions can be dear, this ring is the dearest thing I own.

Edmund Kean wore this ring

in a play whose title is an apt inscription for what I feel -

A New Way To Pay Old Debts.

When you talk of it,

say Edmund Kean and I wore it.

I once had it in mind to give it to you...

years ago.

But you were younger then,

and I thought you would misunderstand.

Yes.

A ring from a man to a woman is easily misunderstood.

I know I'm thought insensitive,

but I'm not blind.

No. I've always known you were aware

of what the spinster in the corner felt.

You were right not to give me the ring years ago.

I lived in hope then.

At least I've seen you every day, made myself useful to you.

I settled for what I could get.

You are the only one who truly loves me.

Beginners for act two.

KNOCK AT DOOR Who?

Irene. I'm returning the triple crown, Sir.

Come.

BELL RINGS

Put it down.

Sir, will it disturb you if I say something?

Depends what it is.

I just wanted to thank you.

For what? The performance this evening.

It's not over yet. I felt honoured to be on the stage.

Open that drawer, you will find a photograph of me.

I love coming into this room.

I can feel the power.

And the mystery.

In days gone by, this would have been a place

where the High Priests robed.

A kindred spirit.

Lock the door.

Come nearer.

It's Irene.

Irene.

You want to act?

Yes. Passionately?

Yes. With every fibre of your being?

Yes.

To the exclusion of all else?

Yes.

You must be prepared to sacrifice what most people call...

life.

I am.

Your birth sign? Scorpio.

Good.

Ambition, secretiveness, loyalty, capable of great jealously.

Essential qualities in the theatre.

Have you good legs?

Come closer.

Let me see.

Higher.

TOO good. All the best actresses have legs like tree trunks.