James Joyce

“ RICHARD.
If it is of no consequence why are you dissatisfied till you reach that end? Why were you waiting here tonight?
ROBERT.
Passion tends to go as far as it can; but, you may believe me or not, I had not that in my mind—to reach that end.
RICHARD.
Reach it if you can. I will use no arm against you that the world puts in my hand. If the law which God’s finger has written on our hearts is the law you say I too am God’s creature.
[He rises and paces to and fro some moments in silence. Then he goes towards the porch and leans against the jamb. Robert watches him.] ”

“ Is it crying you are now? Ah, sure, don’t cry. There’s good times coming still.
BERTHA.
No, Brigid, that time comes only once in a lifetime. The rest of life is good for nothing except to remember that time.
BRIGID.
[Is silent for a moment: then says kindly.] Would you like a cup of tea, ma’am? That would make you all right.
BERTHA.
Yes, I would. But the milkman has not come yet.
BRIGID.
No. Master Archie told me to wake him before he came. He’s going out for a jaunt in the car. But I’ve a cup left overnight. I’ll have the kettle boiling in a jiffy. ”

“ Only the impulse towards youth and beauty does not die. [He points towards the porch.] Listen!
BERTHA.
[In alarm.] What?
ROBERT.
The rain falling. Summer rain on the earth. Night rain. The darkness and warmth and flood of passion. Tonight the earth is loved—loved and possessed. Her lover’s arms around her; and she is silent. Speak, dearest!
BERTHA.
[Suddenly leans forward and listens intently.] Hush!
ROBERT.
[Listening, smiles.] Nothing. Nobody. We are alone.
[A gust of wind blows in through the porch, with a sound of shaken leaves. The flame of the lamp leaps.] ”

“ RICHARD.
Bertha! [She does not answer.] Bertha, you are free.
BERTHA.
[Pushes his hand aside and starts to her feet.] Don’t touch me! You are a stranger to me. You do not understand anything in me—not one thing in my heart or soul. A stranger! I am living with a stranger!
[A knock is heard at the hall door. Bertha dries her eyes quickly with her handkerchief and settles the front of her gown. Richard listens for a moment, looks at her keenly and, turning away, walks into his study. Robert Hand enters from the left. He is dressed in dark brown and carries in his hand a brown Alpine hat.] ”

“ RICHARD.
And I do too. You may be his and mine. I will trust you, Bertha, and him too. I must. I cannot hate him since his arms have been around you. You have drawn us near together. There is something wiser than wisdom in your heart. Who am I that I should call myself master of your heart or of any woman’s? Bertha, love him, be his, give yourself to him if you desire—or if you can. ”

“ ROBERT.
Yes. It is not pleasant for me to remain here just now.
BERTHA.
[Sits down helplessly.] But this is cruel of you, Robert. Cruel to me and to him also.
ROBERT.
Has he asked... what happened?
BERTHA.
[Joining her hands in despair.] No. He refuses to ask me anything. He says he will never know.
ROBERT.
[Nods gravely.] Richard is right there. He is always right.
BERTHA.
But, Robert, you must speak to him.
ROBERT.
What am I to say to him?
BERTHA.
The truth! Everything!
ROBERT.
[Reflects.] No, Bertha. I am a man speaking to a man. I cannot tell him everything. ”

“ RICHARD.
[With an outburst of rude anger.] To meet the devil’s father!
BERTHA.
[Unpins her hat and sits down.] Very well. You can go. Now I know what to do.
RICHARD.
[Returns, approaches her.] You don’t believe a word of what you say.
BERTHA.
[Calmly.] You can go. Why don’t you?
RICHARD.
Then you have come here and led him on in this way on account of me. Is that how it is?
BERTHA.
There is one person in all this who is not a fool. And that is you. I am though. And he is. ”

“ 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.]
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? ”

“ And what is a woman? A work of nature, too, like a stone or a flower or a bird. A kiss is an act of homage.
RICHARD.
It is an act of union between man and woman. Even if we are often led to desire through the sense of beauty can you say that the beautiful is what we desire?
ROBERT.
[Pressing the stone to his forehead.] You will give me a headache if you make me think today. I cannot think today. I feel too natural, too common. After all, what is most attractive in even the most beautiful woman? ”

“ BEATRICE.
Why do you accuse me?
BERTHA.
[Going to her impulsively.] I am in such suffering. Excuse me if I was rude. I want us to be friends. [She holds out her hands.] Will you?
BEATRICE.
[Taking her hands.] Gladly.
BERTHA.
[Looking at her.] What lovely long eyelashes you have! And your eyes have such a sad expression!
BEATRICE.
[Smiling.] I see very little with them. They are very weak.
BERTHA.
[Warmly.] But beautiful.
[She embraces her quietly and kisses her. Then withdraws from her a little shyly. Brigid comes in from the left.]
BRIGID.
I gave it to himself, ma’am. ”

“ BRIGID.
[Comes towards her and leans over the back of a chair.] Are you fretting yourself, ma’am, about anything?
BERTHA.
No, Brigid.
BRIGID.
Don’t be. He was always like that, meandering off by himself somewhere. He is a curious bird, Master Richard, and always was. Sure there isn’t a turn in him I don’t know. Are you fretting now maybe because he does be in there [pointing to the study] half the night at his books? Leave him alone. He’ll come back to you again. Sure he thinks the sun shines out of your face, ma’am. ”

“ RICHARD.
I never tried to do such a thing, Bertha. You know I cannot be severe with a child.
BERTHA.
Because you never loved your own mother. A mother is always a mother, no matter what. I never heard of any human being that did not love the mother that brought him into the world, except you. ”

“ Bertha—you and I.
BERTHA.
[Almost inaudibly.] Are you sure?
ROBERT.
[Still more warmly.] I am sure that no law made by man is sacred before the impulse of passion. [Almost fiercely.] Who made us for one only? It is a crime against our own being if we are so. There is no law before impulse. Laws are for slaves. Bertha, say my name! ”

“ RICHARD.
By all means.
ROBERT.
[Archly.] I have come up from a lower world and I am filled with astonishment when I find that people have any redeeming virtue at all.
RICHARD.
[Sits up suddenly and leans his elbows on the table.] You are my friend, then?
ROBERT.
[Gravely.] I fought for you all the time you were away. I fought to bring you back. I fought to keep your place for you here. I will fight for you still because I have faith in you, the faith of a disciple in his master. I cannot say more than that. It may seem strange to you... Give me a match. ”

“ ROBERT.
All things come to those who wait.
[Richard goes to the sideboard and brings a small tray with the decanter and glasses to the table where he sets it down.]
RICHARD.
[Sits down again, leaning back on the lounge.] Will you please help yourself?
ROBERT.
[Does so.] And you? Steadfast? [Richard shakes his head.] Lord, when I think of our wild nights long ago—talks by the hour, plans, carouses, revelry...
RICHARD.
In our house.
ROBERT.
It is mine now. I have kept it ever since though I don’t go there often. Whenever you like to come let me know. You must come some night. ”

“ Bertha! [In a softer voice.] In all my life only that dream is real. I forget the rest. [He kisses her hands again.] And now I can tell him the truth. Call him.
[Bertha goes to the door of Richard’s study and knocks. There is no answer. She knocks again.]
BERTHA.
Dick! [There is no answer.] Mr Hand is here. He wants to speak to you, to say goodbye. He is going away. [There is no answer. She beats her hand loudly on the panel of the door and calls in an alarmed voice.] Dick! Answer me!
[Richard Rowan comes in from the study. He comes at once to Robert but does not hold out his hand.] ”

“ RICHARD.
We are speaking of bodily union.
ROBERT.
Affection between man and woman must come to that. We think too much of it because our minds are warped. For us today it is of no more consequence than any other form of contact—than a kiss. ”

“ BEATRICE.
I will go now, Mrs Rowan, before he comes.
BERTHA.
[Somewhat timidly.] Then we are friends?
BEATRICE.
[In the same tone.] We will try to be. [Turning.] Do you allow me to go out through the garden? I don’t want to meet my cousin now.
BERTHA.
Of course. [She takes her hand.] It is so strange that we spoke like this now. But I always wanted to. Did you?
BEATRICE.
I think I did, too.
BERTHA.
[Smiling.] Even in Rome. When I went out for a walk with Archie I used to think about you, what you were like, because I knew about you from Dick. ”

“ ROBERT.
Is that the truth, Bertha?
BERTHA.
Yes, because it annoyed me that you could think I was like... like the other women I suppose you knew that way. I think that Dick is right too. Why should there be secrets?
ROBERT.
[Softly.] Still, secrets can be very sweet. Can they not?
BERTHA.
[Smiles.] Yes, I know they can. But, you see, I could not keep things secret from Dick. Besides, what is the good? They always come out in the end. Is it not better for people to know? ”

“ RICHARD.
[Drily.] Many ideas strike a man who has lived nine years with a woman.
ROBERT.
Yes. I suppose they do.... This beautiful cool stone does me good. Is it a paperweight or a cure for headache?
RICHARD.
Bertha brought it home one day from the strand. She, too, says that it is beautiful.
ROBERT.
[Lays down the stone quietly.] She is right.
[He raises his glass and drinks. A pause.]
RICHARD.
Is that all you wanted to say to me?
ROBERT.
[Quickly.] There is something else. The vicechancellor sends you, through me, an invitation for tonight—to dinner at his house. ”

“ There is nothing to thank me for, Richard. Now and always I am your friend. Now more than ever before. Do you believe me, Richard?
[Richard sits down on a chair and buries his face in his hands. Bertha and Robert gaze at each other in silence. Then she turns away and goes out quietly on the right. Robert goes towards Richard and stands near him, resting his hands on the back of a chair, looking down at him. There is a long silence. A Fishwoman is heard crying out as she passes along the road outside.] ”

“ Remember my words, Dick. Because she is not generous and they are not generous. Is it all wrong what I am saying? Is it?
RICHARD.
[Darkly.] No. Not all.
[She stoops and, picking up the rose from the floor, places it in the vase again. He watches her. Brigid appears at the folding doors on the right.]
BRIGID.
The tea is on the table, ma’am.
BERTHA.
Very well.
BRIGID.
Is Master Archie in the garden?
BERTHA.
Yes. Call him in.
[Brigid crosses the room and goes out into the garden. Bertha goes towards the doors on the right. At the lounge she stops and takes up the slip.] ”

“ Beatrice walks slowly towards the davenport. Robert remains standing. A short silence. Archie and Bertha come in through the door on the left. Bertha is a young woman of graceful build. She has dark grey eyes, patient in expression, and soft features. Her manner is cordial and selfpossessed. She wears a lavender dress and carries her cream gloves knotted round the handle of her sunshade. ”

“ But first I must waken Master Archie or there’ll be ructions.
[She goes out by the door on the left. After a few moments Bertha rises and goes over to the study. She opens the door wide and looks in. One can see a small untidy room with many bookshelves and a large writingtable with papers and an extinguished lamp and before it a padded chair. She remains standing for some time in the doorway, then closes the door again without entering the room. She returns to her chair by the window and sits down. Archie, dressed as before, comes in by the door on the right, followed by Brigid.] ”

“ ROBERT.
I am afraid they are overblown.
RICHARD.
[Suddenly.] Excuse me for a moment, will you?
[He turns and goes into his study quickly. Robert takes a pencil from his pocket and writes a few words on the slip; then hands it quickly to Bertha.]
ROBERT.
[Rapidly.] The address. Take the tram at Lansdowne Road and ask to be let down near there.
BERTHA.
[Takes it.] I promise nothing.
ROBERT.
I will wait.
[Richard comes back from the study.]
BERTHA.
[Going.] I must put these roses in water.
RICHARD.
[Handing her his hat.] Yes, do. And please put my hat on the rack. ”

“ 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. ”