The Mousetrap and Other Plays

ACT ONE

SCENE: The lounge of the King Solomon Hotel, Jerusalem. Afternoon.

Back Centre are three open arches, the centre one giving access to a terrace with a balcony rail with a wide expanse of blue sky beyond. An arch up Right leads to the main entrance, and arches down Right and up Left lead to other parts of the hotel. There is a lift behind a sliding door down Left. A quadrant counter for the reception clerk is up Left. A small table stands Centre with five chairs around it. There is a low table with a chair above it, down Right. Other small tables are set against the walls. On the terrace there are two chairs and a table with a sunshade.

When Curtain rises, MRS. BOYNTON is seated above the table Centre. She is a vast obese woman, rather like an idol, with an expressionless face. She moves her head and eyes, but not her body. A stick is beside her chair. Her family are grouped round her like courtiers round a queen. GINEVRA BOYNTON, her daughter, sits Right of MRS. BOYNTON. She is a pretty girl of nineteen with a lost, vacant expression. She sits staring into space: occasionally her lips move as though she is talking to herself. Her fingers are picking at a handkerchief which she is tearing in little bits. This is partly masked by the table. NADINE BOYNTON, the daughter-in-law, sits Left of MRS. BOYNTON. She is a quiet woman of twenty-eight. She is sewing. LENNOX BOYNTON, MRS. BOYNTON’s elder son and NADINE’s husband, sits Left of NADINE. He is holding a book upside down and appears to be reading. The HOTEL CLERK is behind his desk. A glamorous ITALIAN GIRL enters up Right and crosses to the desk.

GIRL. (To the CLERK) La mia chiave, per favore.

CLERK. (Puzzled) I beg your pardon?

GIRL. (Emphasizing) Chiave. Ah, you do not understand. My—key—please.

CLERK. Oh. Certainly, signorina. (He hands her a key.)

GIRL. Grazie, signor. (She moves towards the lift.)

(The lift door opens. ALDERMAN HIGGS enters from the lift. He is a portly, middle-aged man and has a broad Lancashire accent. He stands aside to let the GIRL pass, half-raising his hat.)

(She acknowledges HIGGS’ courtesy with a smile) Signor.

(The GIRL exits to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends. HIGGS glances curiously at the BOYNTONS, as though slightly fascinated by their static quality, crosses hurriedly towards the arch up Right, then stops, turns and moves to the desk.)

HIGGS. (To the CLERK) Any letters for me? Name of ’Iggs.

CLERK. Letters are at the concierge’s office in the hall, sir.

HIGGS. Conciurge? Moost you call ’im by these fancy names? What’s wrong with “porter”?

CLERK. (Indifferently) Just as you please, sir.

HIGGS. Five quid a day you’re charging me ’ere, and I don’t think so mooch of this place. (He looks around) Give me the Midland at Manchester even if it ’asn’t got so many fancy columns. (He moves to the arch up Right, then stops and returns a step or two) See ’ere, if one of them Dragomen chaps turn oop from Cook’s, askin’ for me, you tell ’im to wait till I coom back. See?

(HIGGS turns and exits up Right. There is silence. You expect the BOYNTONS to speak, but they do not. NADINE drops her scissors. As she picks them up, MRS. BOYNTON’s head turns to look at her, but she does not speak. GINEVRA’s lips move. She smiles. Her fingers work. A faint whispering sound comes from her. MRS. BOYNTON transfers her attention to GINEVRA, contemplates her in silence for a moment, then speaks in a deep voice.)

MRS. BOYNTON. Jinny!

(GINEVRA starts, looks at MRS. BOYNTON, opens her mouth to speak but says nothing. The sound of a bus arriving outside and the murmur of native voices is heard off up Right. MRS. BOYNTON and NADINE look towards the arch up Right. GINEVRA and LENNOX have no reaction. An ARAB BOY, carrying some baggage, enters up Right and crosses to the desk. He gets some directions from the CLERK and exits with the baggage up Left. LADY WESTHOLME, MISS AMABEL PRYCE and DOCTOR GERARD enter up Right and cross to the desk. LADY WESTHOLME is a large important-looking woman in tweeds, very British and country. MISS PRYCE is a typical spinster with a large terai hat and many bead chains and scarves. DOCTOR GERARD is a good-looking, middle-aged Frenchman. He carries a newspaper.)

LADY WESTHOLME. (Announcing the fact) I am Lady Westholme.

CLERK. (Indicating a pile of registration forms) You will register, please.

LADY WESTHOLME. You received my wire from Cairo?

CLERK. Certainly, Lady Westholme. Your rooms are reserved. One-one-eight and one-one-nine on the second floor.

LADY WESTHOLME. I prefer the first floor.

CLERK. I am afraid we have nothing vacant on the first floor.

(The ARAB BOY enters up Left.)

LADY WESTHOLME. (Overpoweringly) I have chosen to stay here instead of at the High Commissioner’s and I expect to be treated properly. If there are no rooms vacant on the first floor, somebody must be moved. You understand?

CLERK. (Defeated) If your ladyship will go temporarily to the second floor we will arrange something before tonight. Can I have your passport, please? (He indicates the form) Surname, Christian names and nationality, please.

(LADY WESTHOLME fills up the form.)

LADY WESTHOLME. (As she writes; loudly) British.

GERARD. (Softly) Very definitely.

CLERK. (To the ARAB BOY) Boy. (He hands a key to the ARAB BOY.)

(The ARAB BOY moves to the lift. LADY WESTHOLME follows him. MRS. BOYNTON follows LADY WESTHOLME with her eyes. MISS PRYCE struggles with her form.)

MISS PRYCE. Oh, dear, I hope I’ve filled this in right. I always find these forms so confusing.

GERARD. (Helping MISS PRYCE) The nationality here. You, too, are British.

(The ARAB BOY rings the lift bell and returns to the desk. LADY WESTHOLME waits impatiently.)

MISS PRYCE. Oh, well—yes, certainly—at least—really, you know—(Confidentially) I’m Welsh—but still, it’s all the same. (She drops her handbag.)

GERARD. (Picking up the handbag) Allow me.

MISS PRYCE. (Taking the bag) Oh, thank you. (To the CLERK) Have you—is there—I believe you have a room booked for me—one with a view towards the Dead Sea, I asked for.

CLERK. The name?

MISS PRYCE. Oh, dear me—how stupid of me. Pryce. Miss Pryce. Miss Amabel Pryce.

(The lift descends and the door opens. LADY WESTHOLME exits to the lift.)

CLERK. (To the ARAB BOY) Number four-eighty-four. (He hands him a key.)

(The ARAB BOY moves to the lift. MISS PRYCE drops her handbag. GERARD picks up the bag.)

MISS PRYCE. So stupid of me. (She takes the bag.) Thank you so much.

(The ARAB BOY exits to the lift.)

(She hurries to the lift. Wait for me! Wait for me!

(MISS PRYCE exits to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends.)

GERARD. (To the CLERK) Doctor Theodore Gerard. (He fills in a form.)

CLERK. Oh, yes, Doctor Gerard. Number one-eight-four. (He hands him a key.)

(GERARD moves to the lift and waits. GENEVRA looks at GERARD. The lift descends and the door opens. SARAH KING enters from the lift. She is an attractive, decided-looking girl of twenty-three. She passes GERARD, hesitates, then smiles at him. GERARD bows.)

GERARD. How do you do?

SARAH. I’m so pleased to see you. I never thanked you for helping me the other night at the station in Cairo.

GERARD. That was nothing—a pleasure. You are enjoying Jerusalem, Miss—er . . . ?

SARAH. King—Doctor Sarah King.

GERARD. (Gaily) Ah, we are colleagues. (He takes a card from his pocket and hands it to her.) Doctor Gerard.

SARAH. Colleagues? (She looks at the card.) Doctor Theodore Gerard. Oh. (Reverently) Are you the Doctor Gerard? But yes, you must be.

GERARD. I am Doctor Theodore Gerard. So, as I say, we are colleagues.

SARAH. Yes, but you’re distinguished and I am only starting.

GERARD. (Smiling) Oh, well, I hope it will not be like your English proverb—wait a minute so that I get it right. (Slowly) “Doctors differ and patients die.”

SARAH. Fancy your knowing that! Just as well we haven’t any patients. Have you just come in on the afternoon train?

GERARD. Yes. With a very important English lady. (He grimaces) Lady Westholme. Since God is not in Jerusalem, she is forced to put up with the King Solomon Hotel.

SARAH. (Laughing) Lady Westholme is a political big bug. In her own eyes at any rate. She’s always heckling the Government about housing or equal pay for women. She was an undersecretary or something—but she lost her seat at the last election.

GERARD. Not the type that interests you?

SARAH. No—but—(She drops her voice and draws GERARD up Left) there’s someone over there who does. Don’t look at once. It’s an American family. They were on the train with me yesterday. I talked to the son.

(GERARD looks at LENNOX)

Not that one—a younger one. He was rather nice. Extraordinary-looking old woman, isn’t she? Her family seem absolutely devoted to her.

GERARD. (In a low voice) Possibly because they know she will not long be with them. You recognized the signs?

SARAH. How long would you give her?

GERARD. Perhaps six months—who knows? You will have a drink?

SARAH. Not now. (She glances at her watch.) I’ve got to call for a parcel at one of the shops. I must hurry. (She gives him a friendly nod.) Another time.

(SARAH crosses and exits quickly up Right. GERARD looks after her a moment, then turns to the CLERK.)

GERARD. Cinzano à l’eau, please. (He moves down Left, then crosses slowly below the table Centre to Right, glancing as he passes at the book LENNOX is holding. He sits in the chair down Right, and opens his newspaper, covertly studying the BOYNTONS.)

(The CLERK claps his hands. The ARAB BOY enters up Left. The CLERK gives him GERARD’s order. The ARAB BOY exits up Left. GINEVRA raises her head and watches GERARD. Her fingers twist and tear her handkerchief.)

MRS. BOYNTON. (Her voice sudden and deep) Ginevra you’re tired.

(GINEVRA jumps.)

You’d better go and rest.

GINEVRA. I’m not tired, Mother. I’m not really.

MRS. BOYNTON. Yes, you are. I always know. I don’t think—(She pauses) I don’t think you’ll be able to do any sightseeing tomorrow.

(The lift door closes and the lift ascends.)

GINEVRA. Oh, but I shall. (Vehemently) I’m quite all right.

MRS. BOYNTON. No, you’re not. (With slow relish) You’re going to be ill.

GINEVRA. (Rising; hysterically) I’m not. I’m not.

MRS. BOYNTON. Go up and lie down.

GINEVRA. I’m not going to be ill. I don’t want to be ill.

MRS. BOYNTON. I always know.

NADINE. I’ll come up with you, Jinny.

MRS. BOYNTON. No, let her go up alone.

GINEVRA. I want Nadine to come. (Her handkerchief slips from her fingers to the floor.)

NADINE. (Putting her sewing on the table) Then, of course, I will. (She rises.)

MRS. BOYNTON. The child prefers to go by herself. (She fixes GINEVRA with her eye) Don’t you, Jinny?

GINEVRA. (After a pause; mechanically) Yes—I’d rather go alone. Thank you, Nadine. (She crosses slowly to the lift.)

(MRS. BOYNTON follows GINEVRA with her eyes. NADINE resumes her seat and picks up her sewing. The lift descends and the door opens. The ITALIAN GIRL enters from the lift. She has changed into a very revealing sunsuit, and carries a magazine and an unlighted cigarette in a long holder.

GINEVRA passes the GIRL, and exits into the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends. The GIRL goes to the CLERK, who lights her cigarette for her.)

GIRL. (To the CLERK) I would like a Martini on the terrace, please. (She goes on to the terrace and sits Right of the table under the sunshade.)

(The ARAB BOY enters up Left, with GERARD’s drink on a tray. He crosses above the table Centre and puts the glass on the table beside GERARD. He then returns to the desk, takes the GIRL’s order from the CLERK and exits up Left.

JEFFERSON COPE enters breezily up Right. He is about forty-five; a pleasant, normal, rather old-fashioned American.)

COPE. (Moving to Right of the table Centre) I was looking around for you all. (He shakes hands all round, then stands Right of the table.) How do you find yourself, Mrs. Boynton? Not too tired by the journey from Cairo?

MRS. BOYNTON. (Suddenly very gracious) No, thank you. My health’s never good, as you know . . .

COPE. Why, of course. (Sympathetically) Too bad, too bad.

MRS. BOYNTON. But I’m certainly no worse. (She looks at NADINE.) Nadine takes good care of me, don’t you, Nadine?

NADINE. (Without expression) I do my best.

COPE. (Heartily) Why, I bet you do. Well, Lennox, and what do you think of King David’s city?

(LENNOX continues to look at his book and does not answer.)

MRS. BOYNTON. Lennox!

LENNOX. (As from the very far away) Sorry—what did you say, Cope?

COPE. (Crossing above the table to Left Centre) I asked what you thought of King David’s city.

LENNOX. Oh—I don’t know.

COPE. Find it kind of disappointing, do you? I’ll confess it struck me that way at first. But perhaps you haven’t been around much yet?

LENNOX. We can’t do much because of Mother.

MRS. BOYNTON. A couple of hours’ sightseeing is about all I can do.

COPE. I think it’s wonderful you manage to do all you do, Mrs. Boynton.

MRS. BOYNTON. I don’t give in to my body. It’s the mind that matters—(With secret zest) yes, the mind.

(RAYMOND BOYNTON enters up Right and moves to Right of the table. He is a good-looking young man of twenty-four. He is smiling and looking happy. He carries a wrapped bottle of medicine.)

COPE. Hullo, Ray, caught sight of you just now as I came in—but you were too busy to see me. (He laughs.)

MRS. BOYNTON. Busy? (She turns her head slowly to look at RAYMOND.)

(RAYMOND’s smile vanishes)

Did you get my medicine at the chemist?

RAYMOND. Yes, Mother, here it is. (He hands her the package, avoiding her eye.)

COPE. That was a nice-looking girl you were talking to, Ray.

MRS. BOYNTON. A girl? What girl? (She puts the package on the table.)

RAYMOND. (Nervously) She was on the train last night. I helped her with some of her cases—they were a bit heavy.

MRS. BOYNTON. (Intent on RAYMOND) I see.

RAYMOND. (Turning desperately to COPE) I suppose you’ve seen all there is to see by this time.

(The ARAB BOY enters up Left. He carries a tray with the GIRL’s drink. He goes on to the terrace, puts the glass on the table, then exits up Left.)

COPE. Well, I hope to have done Jerusalem pretty thoroughly in another couple of days and then I’m going to have a look at Petra, the rose-red city of Petra—a most remarkable natural phenomenon, right off the beaten track.

MRS. BOYNTON. “A rose-red city—half as old as time.”

RAYMOND. It sounds marvellous.

COPE. It’s certainly worth seeing. (He hesitates, moves Left, then returns to Left of MRS. BOYNTON.) I wonder if I couldn’t persuade some of you people to come along with me? I know you couldn’t manage it, Mrs. Boynton, and naturally some of your family would want to remain with you—but if you were to divide forces, so to speak . . . (He looks from one to the other of them, finally at MRS. BOYNTON.)

MRS. BOYNTON. (Expressionless) I don’t think that we’d care to divide up. We’re a very united family. (She pauses) What do you say, children?

MRS. BOYNTON. You see. They won’t leave me. What about you, Nadine? You didn’t say anything.

NADINE. No, thank you, not unless Lennox cares about it.

MRS. BOYNTON. Well, Lennox, what about it? Why don’t you and Nadine go? She seems to want to.

LENNOX. (Nervously) I—well—no—I—I—think we’d better all stay together.

COPE. Well—you are a devoted family.

(COPE exchanges a look and a smile with RAYMOND, and picks up a magazine from the table.)

SARAH enters up Right. She carries a small parcel. She goes on to the terrace and exits on it to Right. RAYMOND watches SARAH. MRS. BOYNTON watches RAYMOND.)

MRS. BOYNTON. (To COPE) We keep ourselves to ourselves. (To RAYMOND) Is that the girl you were talking to outside?

RAYMOND. Yes—er—yes.

MRS. BOYNTON. Who is she?

RAYMOND. Her name is King. She’s—she’s a doctor.

MRS. BOYNTON. I see. One of those women doctors. (Deliberately to him) I don’t think we’ll have much to do with her, son. (She rises.) Shall we go up now? (She picks up the medicine.)

(NADINE hastily puts her sewing together, rises, gets MRS. BOYNTON’s stick and hands it to her. LENNOX rises.)

(To COPE) I don’t know what I should do without Nadine.

(COPE moves to Right of MRS. BOYNTON and puts the magazine on the table Centre. NADINE is Left of MRS. BOYNTON.)

She takes such good care of me. (She moves towards the lift.)

(COPE, NADINE, LENNOX and RAYMOND move with MRS. BOYNTON to the lift. It is a royal procession. COPE rings the lift bell. GERARD watches them.)

But it’s dull for her sometimes. You ought to go sightseeing with Mr. Cope, Nadine.

COPE. (To NADINE; eagerly) I shall be only too delighted. Can’t we fix up something definite?

NADINE. We’ll see—tomorrow.

(The lift descends and the door opens. MRS. BOYNTON, NADINE, LENNOX and RAYMOND exit to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends. COPE wanders around for a moment, then crosses to GERARD.)

COPE. Excuse me—but surely you’re Doctor Theodore Gerard?

GERARD. Yes. (He rises) But I’m afraid . . .

COPE. Naturally you wouldn’t remember me. But I had the pleasure of hearing you lecture at Harvard last year, and of being introduced to you afterwards. (Modestly) Oh, I was just one of fifty or so. A mighty interesting lecture it was, of course, on psychiatry.

GERARD. You are too kind.

COPE. Jerusalem certainly is full of celebrities. We must have a drink. What are you drinking?

GERARD. Thank you. Cinzano à l’eau.

COPE. (As he crosses to the desk) By the way, the name’s Cope. (To the CLERK) A Cinzano à l’eau and a rye straight. (He moves to Left of the table Centre.)

(The CLERK claps his hands. The ARAB BOY enters up Left, takes the order from the CLERK for the drinks and exits up Left.)

GERARD. (Moving to Right of the table Centre) Tell me—I am interested—is that a typical American family to whom you were talking?

COPE. Why, no, I wouldn’t say it was exactly typical.

GERARD. They seem—a very devoted family.

COPE. You mean they all seem to revolve round the old lady? That’s true enough. She’s a very remarkable woman, you know.

GERARD. Indeed? Tell me something about her. (He sits Right of the table Centre.)

COPE. I’ve been having that family a good deal on my mind lately. You see, young Mrs. Boynton, Mrs. Lennox Boynton, is an old friend of mine.

GERARD. Ah, yes, that very charming young lady?

COPE. That’s right—that’s Nadine. I knew her before her marriage to Lennox Boynton. She was training in hospital to be a nurse. Then she went for a vacation to stay with the Boyntons—they were distant cousins—and she married Lennox.

GERARD. And the marriage—it has been a happy one?

COPE. (After a pause; moving a little up Left Centre) I—I hardly know what to say about that.

GERARD. You are worried about something?

COPE. Yes. (He moves above the chair Left of the table Centre and leans on the back of it.) I’d value your opinion—that is, if you won’t be bored?

GERARD. I shall not be bored. People are my speciality—always they interest me. Tell me about this Boynton family.

COPE. Well, the late Elmore Boynton was a very rich man. This Mrs. Boynton was his second wife.

GERARD. She is the stepmother, then?

COPE. Yes, but they were young children at the time of the marriage, and they’ve always looked upon her as their own mother. They’re completely devoted to her, as you may have noticed.

GERARD. I noticed their—(He pauses) devotion—yes.

COPE. Elmore Boynton thought a lot of his second wife. When he died he left everything in her hands—she has an excellent head for business. Since his death she’s devoted herself entirely to those children, and she’s shut out the outside world altogether. I’m not sure, you know, that that is really a sound thing to do.

GERARD. Nothing could be more harmful to developing mentalities.

COPE. (Struck) Well now, that’s rather what I feel. In her devotion to them she’s never let them make any outside contacts. Result is, they’ve grown up kind of—(He pauses) nervy. They can’t make friends with strangers.

GERARD. Do they all live at home? Have the sons no professions? No careers?

COPE. No—there’s plenty of money, you see.

GERARD. But they are dependent on their stepmother financially?

COPE. That’s so. She’s encouraged them to live at home and not go out and look for jobs.

(The ARAB BOY enters up Left with two drinks on a tray. He serves the drinks to COPE and GERARD, then exits up Left.)

They don’t play golf, they don’t belong to any country clubs, they don’t go around to dances, or meet other young people.

GERARD. What do they do, then?

COPE. Well, they just—sit around. You’ve seen them today.

GERARD. And you disapprove?

COPE. (With heat) No boy ought to keep on being tied to his mother’s apron strings. He ought to strike out and be independent.

GERARD. And suppose that was impossible?

COPE. What do you mean—impossible?

GERARD. There are two ways, Mr. Cope, of preventing a tree from growing.

COPE. (Staring) They’re a fine healthy well-grown lot.

GERARD. The mind can be stunted as well as the body.

COPE. The mind?

GERARD. I don’t think you have quite grasped my point.

(COPE stares at GERARD.)

But continue.

COPE. (Moving Left Centre) What I feel is that it’s time Lennox Boynton stopped just sitting around twiddling his thumbs. How can a man who does that hope to keep a woman’s respect?

GERARD. (With a Gallic twinkle) Aha—I see—you are thinking of his wife. (He puts his glass on the table.)

COPE. I’m not ashamed of my feeling for that lady. I am very deeply attached to her. All I want is her happiness. If she were happy with Lennox, I’d sit right back and fade right out of the picture.

GERARD. (Rising and moving to Right of COPE) Chivalry only lives today in the American nation.

COPE. I don’t mind your laughing at me, Doctor Gerard. I dare say I sound romantic and old-fashioned, but that young man riles me. Sitting there reading a book and taking no notice of his wife or anybody else.

GERARD. (Moving above the table Centre to Right of it) But he was not reading a book.

COPE. (Puzzled) Not reading—but he had a book . . . (He puts his glass on the table.)

GERARD. He was holding that book upside down. Curious, is it not? (He sees Ginevra’s torn handkerchief on the floor.) And here is something else. (He picks up the handkerchief.) A handkerchief that has been torn to pieces, so—by a girl’s fingers.

COPE. (Moving below the table to Left of GERARD) But that’s—that’s very extraordinary.

GERARD. Yes, it is extraordinary. (He moves to the chair down Right and sits.) It is also very interesting.

COPE. Well, I’ve a great respect for maternal devotion, but I think it can be carried too far. (He moves Right Centre) I’ve got to get down to the American Express before they close. See you later.

GERARD. A toute à l’heure.

(COPE exits up Right.)

(He looks at the handkerchief.) Maternal devotion? I wonder.

(GINEVRA enters up Left, pauses, looks around, then comes swiftly and romantically across to GERARD.)

GINEVRA. Please, please—I must speak to you.

(GERARD looks at GINEVRA in astonishment, then rises.)

GERARD. Miss Boynton?

GINEVRA. (Dramatically) They’re taking me away. They’re planning to kill me—or shut me up. (She takes his arm and shakes it vehemently.) You must help me—you must help me. (She stares pleadingly up at his face.)

GERARD. This is your handkerchief?

GINEVRA. Yes. (She takes the handkerchief without interest.) Listen—I don’t belong to them really. My name’s not really Boynton at all. I’m—I’m—(She draws herself up) royal.

(GERARD studies her attentively.)

GERARD. I see. Yes, I see.

GINEVRA. I knew I could trust you. There are enemies, you know, all round me. They try to poison my food—all sorts of things—they don’t let me speak to anyone. If you could help me to escape . . . (She starts and looks around.) They’re coming. I’m spied on—all the time. (She moves quickly up Left.) They mustn’t know I’ve spoken to you.

(GINEVRA exits up Left.)

GERARD. (Moving Centre and looking after her) Nom d’un nom d’un nom!

(SARAH enters on the terrace from Centre and comes into the room.)

SARAH. (Moving to Right of GERARD) Has something upset you, Doctor Gerard?

GERARD. Yes, I am upset. Quelle histoire! Royal blood, persecution, poison in the food, surrounded by enemies.

(The lift descends and the door opens. LADY WESTHOLME, MISS PRYCE and the DRAGOMAN enter from Left. LADY WESTHOLME carries a copy of “The Times” and MISS PRYCE has her handbag.)

SARAH. But that . . . (She breaks off and moves down Right.)

(GERARD moves down Right Centre.)

LADY WESTHOLME. (Crossing to Left of GERARD) Ah—Doctor Gerard. I’ve been looking for you.

(The DRAGOMAN moves to Left of LADY WESTHOLME. MISS PRYCE moves to the desk.)

The arrangements for our trip to Petra are quite complete. We start on Tuesday and spend the night at Ammãn, then on to Petra the following day. The journey will be made in a first-class touring car. (She indicates the DRAGOMAN) This is our dragoman—Mahommed.

DRAGOMAN. My name not Mahommed, lady. My name Aissa.

LADY WESTHOLME. I always call dragomen Mahommed.

DRAGOMAN. I Christian dragoman. Name Aissa, all same Jesus.

LADY WESTHOLME. Most unsuitable. I shall call you Mahommed, so please don’t argue.

DRAGOMAN. As you like, lady. I always give satisfaction. (He moves above LADY WESTHOLME and stands between her and GERARD.) You see—(He produces a handful of dirty and torn letters) here are testimonials. Here one from English lady—Countess like you. Here one from very reverend clergyman—Bishop—wear gaiters and very funny hat. Here letter Miss Coralle Bell, lady who act and dance on stage. All say same thing—Aissa very clean—very religious—know all about Bible history . . .

LADY WESTHOLME. (Severely) I hope you are clean. Those testimonials look filthy to me.

DRAGOMAN. No, no, lady—no filthy postcards. No hot stuff. All very Christian—like Aissa. (He pats his chest.) Aissa very clean. Very hygiene.

(MISS PRYCE moves down Left Centre.)

LADY WESTHOLME. (To GERARD) As I was saying, we will start Tuesday. That will be four of us—Mohommed, you and—and now who is the fourth?

(MISS PRYCE moves to Left of LADY WESTHOLME and gives an apologetic little cough.)

Oh, yes, Miss Pryce, of course.

MISS PRYCE. So kind of you. Really, it will be a wonderful experience. Perhaps a little tiring.

LADY WESTHOLME. (Cutting her short) I never feel fatigue.

MISS PRYCE. It really is wonderful—in spite of all you do.

LADY WESTHOLME. I have always found hard work a great stimulant.

(MISS PRYCE moves and sits Left of the table Centre.)

I was about to say, Doctor Gerard, that that will leave a vacant place in the car, since Mahommed, of course, will sit beside the driver.

DRAGOMAN. I stop car, turn round and tell you everything we see.

LADY WESTHOLME. That’s what I’m afraid of.

(The DRAGOMAN goes on to the terrace, tries to sell curios to the ITALIAN GIRL, fails, moves to the desk and has a word or two with the CLERK.)

It occurred to me that if you knew of anyone suitable it would reduce the expense. I abhor useless extravagance. (She looks pointedly at SARAH.)

GERARD. Miss King? You were, I believe, expressing the wish to visit Petra. May I introduce Miss King—no, Doctor King—Lady Westholme.

(SARAH moves to Right of GERARD.)

LADY WESTHOLME. (Patronizingly) I am always glad to meet a young woman who has set out to make a career for herself.

MISS PRYCE. Yes, women do such wonderful things nowadays.

LADY WESTHOLME. Don’t be foolish, Miss Pryce. You had better go with Mahommed and buy that Keatings powder at the chemist’s. We shall probably need it.

DRAGOMAN. (Moving to Left of MISS PRYCE) No, no—no bugs—no fleas. Everything very nice—very clean.

LADY WESTHOLME. Get the Keatings.

MISS PRYCE. (Rising) Yes, yes, of course, Lady Westholme. (She drops her bag.)

(The DRAGOMAN picks up MISS PRYCE’s bag and returns it to her. MISS PRYCE moves to the arch up Right. The DRAGOMAN follows her. She quickens her pace, protesting she does not want to buy anything, until they end almost running off.)

DRAGOMAN. (As they go) I take you curio shop, too. Crosses, paper knives, inkstands, all made out of olive wood from Mount of Olives. Very nice souvenirs take home. All genuine—no rubbish.

(MISS PRYCE and the DRAGOMAN exit up Right.)

LADY WESTHOLME. She’s a well-meaning creature, but of course not quite a sahib. Still, one mustn’t let her feel that. I do so abhor snobbishness. Well, Miss King, I hope you will join us. But please do not bring a lot of baggage. We shall travel light.

SARAH. I shall have to think it over.

LADY WESTHOLME. (Graciously) Discuss it with Doctor Gerard. (To GERARD) I think we shall be meeting again at the High Commissioner’s at dinner tonight?

GERARD. I shall look forward to that pleasure.

(LADY WESTHOLME crosses to the chair down Right, sits and reads her paper. GERARD and SARAH move up Centre to the terrace.)

(As they go) Have you seen the view from the terrace—it is really very fine.

(GERARD and SARAH exit the terrace to Right. HIGGS enters and crosses towards the lift.)

CLERK. (To HIGGS) Excuse me, sir, but I am changing your room.

(HIGGS stops and stands up Left Centre.)

There was an unfortunate mistake . . .

HIGGS. What d’yer mean—mistake? Ah doesn’t want ter change my room.

(He moves above the table Centre.)

CLERK. Unfortunately we find that room was booked for Lady Westholme. We shall have to move you to the second floor.

HIGGS. Fer ’oo?

CLERK. Lady Westholme.

HIGGS. Lady Westholme! (He chuckles) That’s a rum ’un. Lady Westholme! Where is she?

LADY WESTHOLME. (Rising and advancing on HIGGS) I am Lady Westholme.

HIGGS. Oh! So you’re Lady Westholme. Ah’m glad ter meet yer. (He politely raises his hat.) Ah’ve been wantin’ ter meet you for a long time.

LADY WESTHOLME. Meet me?

HIGGS. Aye, you.

LADY WESTHOLME. Meet me—what for?

HIGGS. My name’s ’Iggs.

LADY WESTHOLME. ’Iggs?

HIGGS. No, not ’Iggs—’Iggs.

LADY WESTHOLME. Well?

HIGGS. ’Iggs—Halderman ’Iggs.

LADY WESTHOLME. Well?

HIGGS. (Chuckling) Ah coom from Lancashire—same as you do—but I see yer doan’t know ’oo I am.

LADY WESTHOLME. You’ve just told me, Alderman ’Iggs—Higgs.

HIGGS. Ah, but it doesn’t mean nowt to yer?

LADY WESTHOLME. Ought it to?

HIGGS. Aybe, by gum, it ought. But if yer don’t know why—I’m not goin’ ter tell yer. And another thing—I’m not changing any rooms.

LADY WESTHOLME. But that room was reserved for me.

(The lift door closes and the lift ascends.)

HIGGS. Do yer think I’m daft? Ah’ve been ’ere four days, and soon as you arrive ah’ve got the wrong room. But ah ’aven’t—see? Now if you wanted my room special—and coom ter me in a friendly spirit—I doan’t say I would of—but I might of—see? This may be King Solomon ’Otel, but you’re not Queen of Sheba. (He moves up Centre.)

(LADY WESTHOLME decides to ignore HIGGS and turns on the CLERK.)

LADY WESTHOLME. Unless I am moved down to the first floor by this evening I shall report the matter to the High Commissioner.

CLERK. But, your ladyship, I . . .

LADY WESTHOLME. I never argue.

(LADY WESTHOLME turns and exits up Right.)

HIGGS. (To the CLERK) And if you so much as shift a bluddy toothbrush from that room I won’t pay a bluddy penny.

(HIGGS exits on the terrace to Left. SARAH and GERARD enter on the terrace from Right, come into the room and stand Right Centre.)

SARAH. (As they enter) I certainly would love to see Petra—and I definitely couldn’t afford to go on my own.

(The lift descends and the door opens. RAYMOND enters from the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends.)

GERARD. Then I think you will come?

(SARAH turns and sees RAYMOND.)

SARAH. I—I’m not sure . . .

(GERARD looks amused and exits up Right.)

RAYMOND. (Agitated) I—I must speak to you.

SARAH. (Moving to Right of the table Centre, amused) Well, why not?

RAYMOND. (Moving to Left of the table Centre) You don’t understand. I’d like to tell you . . . (He breaks off.)

SARAH. Is anything the matter?

RAYMOND. I came down to see if Mother had left her spectacles on the table here. I—I mustn’t be long.

SARAH. Is there such a hurry?

RAYMOND. You see, my mother—(He pauses) You don’t know my mother.

SARAH. I caught a glimpse of her on the train last night, and I saw her sitting here this afternoon.

RAYMOND. You see—she’s not very strong. She’s got a bad heart. We—we have to take care of her.

SARAH. You seem a very devoted family.

RAYMOND. (Turning away Left Centre) Oh, yes, we are a very devoted family.

SARAH. Well, don’t sound so depressed about it. I’m sure it’s a very nice thing to be.

RAYMOND. (Moving to Left of the table Centre) Oh, how I wish . . . I can’t say what I want to say. (Desperately) I’ve no time. And I may never have the chance of talking to you like this again.

SARAH. Why ever not? You’re not leaving Jerusalem at once, are you?

RAYMOND. No, but—my mother doesn’t like us talking to people outside the family.

SARAH. But how absurd.

RAYMOND. Yes, that’s what it must seem like—just absurd.

SARAH. I’m sorry if I was rude. I know it’s awfully difficult sometimes for parents to realize that their children are grown up—and, of course, if your mother isn’t very strong . . . (She hesitates) But still, you know, it’s a pity to give in. One must stand up for one’s rights.

RAYMOND. You don’t understand.

SARAH. Even if it seems unkind one must be free to live one’s own life.

RAYMOND. Free? None of us will ever be free.

SARAH. What do you mean?

RAYMOND. We’re not free.

SARAH. Why don’t you leave home?

RAYMOND. Because I wouldn’t know where to go or what to do. Oh, you don’t understand. None of us has ever left home. We’ve never been to school, we’ve never had any friends. We’ve no money.

(The lift descends and the door opens.)

SARAH. I suppose you could make some money.

RAYMOND. How?

(NADINE enters from the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends. SARAH and RAYMOND watch NADINE as she moves Left of RAYMOND.)

NADINE. Mother is asking for you, Ray.

RAYMOND. (Starting nervously) I’ll go.

NADINE. Won’t you introduce me?

RAYMOND. (To SARAH) This is my sister-in-law—Nadine.

NADINE. (To SARAH) You were on the train last night, I think.

SARAH. Yes. (To RAYMOND) I was just going out for a stroll. Why don’t you come?

RAYMOND. I—come with you?

NADINE. I think that’s a very good idea, Ray.

RAYMOND. Oh. Yes, I’ll come.

(SARAH and RAYMOND exit up Right. COPE enters up Right and passes them as they go.)

COPE. (Crossing and standing down Right of the table Centre) Why, Nadine, all alone?

NADINE. (Moving below the table Centre) I came down to fetch Mrs. Boynton’s spectacles. (She picks up the spectacles from the table Centre.) Here they are. (She turns to go.)

COPE. Are you going up with them right away?

NADINE. (Turning to him) Yes—Mrs. Boynton is waiting.

COPE. (Moving to Right of her) I feel, you know, that you ought to think more of yourself. I don’t think Mrs. Boynton always realizes . . . (He breaks off.)

NADINE. (With a queer smile) What doesn’t Mrs. Boynton always realize?

COPE. Well, that you have—lives of your own.

NADINE. (Bitterly) Lives of our own!

COPE. (Anxiously) You—you know what I mean?

NADINE. (With sudden warmth) You are such a nice person.

(The lift descends and the door opens.)

COPE. You know there’s nothing—at any time—that I wouldn’t do for you. (He takes her hand.)

(LENNOX enters from the lift and stands watching.)

(He looks at LENNOX, releases NADINE’s hand and steps away from her. Hurriedly) Excuse me. I’ll be going up to my room now.

(COPE crosses and exits to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends.)

LENNOX. (Moving to left of NADINE) Nadine, why have you been so long? Where’s Raymond? Mother’s getting impatient.

NADINE. (Crossing below him to Left centre) Is she?

LENNOX. Yes. (Nervously) Please, Nadine—come up to her.

NADINE. I’m coming.

LENNOX. But where’s Ray?

NADINE. Ray has gone out for a walk.

LENNOX. (Astonished) For a walk! By himself?

NADINE. No, with a girl.

LENNOX. With a girl?

NADINE. (Bitterly) Does that surprise you so much? (She moves to Left of him) Don’t you remember how once you sneaked out of the house and went to Fountain Springs—to a roadhouse? Do you remember, Lennox?

LENNOX. Of course I do—but we must go up to Mother.

NADINE. (With sudden vehemence) Lennox—let’s go away.

LENNOX. What do you mean?

NADINE. I want to live my own life—our own lives—together.

LENNOX. I don’t understand what you mean. (He looks nervously towards the lift.) Mother will be getting so upset.

NADINE. Stop looking at that lift. Stop thinking about your mother. I want you to come away with me. It’s not too late.

LENNOX. (Without looking at her; unhappy and frightened) Please, Nadine. Don’t let’s talk like this. (He crosses below her to Left.) Must we go into it all again?

NADINE. (Following him) Let’s go away, Lennox, let’s go away.

LENNOX. How can we? We’ve no money.

NADINE. You can earn money.

LENNOX. How can I earn money? I’m untrained—unqualified.

NADINE. I could earn enough for both of us.

LENNOX. (His voice rising) It’s impossible—hopeless—(His voice trails away) hopeless.

NADINE. (Moving Left Centre; bitterly) It’s our present life that is hopeless.

LENNOX. I don’t know what you mean. Mother is very good to us. She gives us everything we want.

NADINE. Except liberty.

LENNOX. You must remember she’s getting old and she’s in bad health. When she dies Father’s money will come to us.

NADINE. (Desperately) When she dies it may be too late.

LENNOX. Too late for what?

NADINE. Too late for happiness. (Appealingly) Lennox, I still love you. It’s not too late. Won’t you do what I ask?

LENNOX. I—I can’t. It isn’t possible.

(NADINE draws away. Her manner changes back to its usual quiet reserve.)

NADINE. I see. So it’s up to me. To do—what I want to do—with my own life. (She goes on to the terrace.)

(LENNOX follows NADINE and stands behind her. LADY WESTHOLME and the DRAGOMAN enter up Right. He is thrusting curios upon her notice. LADY WESTHOLME moves down Centre.)

DRAGOMAN. (Moving to Right of LADY WESTHOLME) No other dragoman got anything like these. Very special—I make for distinguished English lady very special price. The owner, he friend of mine. I get them very cheap.

LADY WESTHOLME. Now let us understand each other, Mahommed. (Forcefully) I don’t buy rubbish.

DRAGOMAN. (Howling in anguish) Rubbish? (He holds up a long rusty nail.) The original nail from the toe of Balaam’s ass.

(NADINE moves along the terrace to Right of it. LENNOX follows her.)

LADY WESTHOLME. I said rubbish. If I want to buy anything I will inform you of the fact and I will allow you a reasonable commission. The truth is that you have imposed upon tourists too much. I am not a tourist, and I have a very good sense of values.

DRAGOMAN. (With a sudden ingratiating smile) You very clever English high-up lady. Not want buy cheap junk. You want enjoy yourself, see sights. You like see Gilly-Gilly men? Bring chickens out of everywhere—(He demonstrates on her) out of sleeves, out of hat, out of shoes—everything. (He twiches and lifts her skirt.)

LADY WESTHOLME. (Hitting him with her folded newspaper) Certainly not. (She crosses, sits in the chair down Right and reads her paper.)

(The DRAGOMAN crosses and exits up Left. SARAH and RAYMOND enter up Right. RAYMOND carries a small parcel.)

RAYMOND. (As they enter) There is a moon. I noticed it last night from the train.

(NADINE turns from LENNOX and stands with her back to him.)

SARAH. It really will be simply heavenly. That curly street and the gate where the donkeys were.

(LENNOX moves to Centre of the terrace.)

RAYMOND. (Carelessly) Hullo, Len. (To SARAH) This is my brother Lennox. (He crosses to the lift.)

SARAH. (Hardly noticing LENNOX) How d’you do? (She follows RAYMOND to the lift.)

(The ITALIAN GIRL rises and exits on the terrace to Right.)

Could we go to that courtyard place outside the mosque, or is it shut at night?

(RAYMOND rings the lift bell.)

RAYMOND. We can easily find out.

SARAH. I must get my camera—you think there’s enough light, still?

(The lift descends and the door opens. MRS. BOYNTON enters from the lift, leaning on her stick. RAYMOND stands paralysed. SARAH is taken aback.)

RAYMOND. I—I . . . (He breaks off.)

SARAH. (Loudly and firmly) Won’t you introduce me to your mother?

MRS. BOYNTON. Where have you been, Raymond?

RAYMOND. I—went out . . .

SARAH. Won’t you introduce me, Raymond?

RAYMOND. This is Miss King, Mother.

SARAH. How do you do?

MRS. BOYNTON. How do you do? You were wanting the lift? (She moves aside.)

(SARAH looks once at RAYMOND to see if he is resenting MRS. BOYNTON’s rudeness, then slowly exits to the lift. RAYMOND is staring at MRS. BOYNTON. The door closes and the lift ascends.)

(She crosses to the chair above the table Centre) Who is that girl, Ray?

RAYMOND. I—I told you. Sarah King.

MRS. BOYNTON. Oh, yes, the girl you were talking to on the train last night. (She sits.)

(RAYMOND moves to Left of MRS. BOYNTON. HIGGS enters on the terrace from Left and sits Right of the table under the sunshade.)

Have you made plans to see her again?

(RAYMOND stands like a prisoner in the dock and speaks like an automaton.)

RAYMOND. Yes, we were going out together after dinner.

MRS. BOYNTON. (Watching him) I don’t think, you know, she is quite our style. We’ll keep ourselves to ourselves. That’s the best way. (She pauses) You understand, Ray?

(NADINE turns, moves in a little and watches. LENNOX relapses into complete vacancy.)

RAYMOND. (Automatically) Yes.

MRS. BOYNTON. (With authority) So you won’t be meeting her this evening.

RAYMOND. No—no . . .

MRS. BOYNTON. That’s quite settled, isn’t it?

RAYMOND. Yes.

MRS. BOYNTON. You’ll have nothing more to do with that girl?

RAYMOND. No.

(The lift descends and the door opens. SARAH enters from the lift and crosses to RAYMOND.)

SARAH. I forgot my parcel. Oh. You’ve got it in your hand.

(RAYMOND looks down, stares at the parcel, then hands it to SARAH without looking at her.)

(She turns to go. Cheerfully) See you later.

MRS. BOYNTON. You’d better explain to Miss King, Raymond.

(SARAH stops and turns.)

RAYMOND. (With clenched hands; stiffly) I’m so sorry, Miss King. I shan’t be able to go out this evening.

(SARAH gives a quick glance towards MRS. BOYNTON.)

SARAH. (Belligerently) Why not?

(RAYMOND opens his mouth to speak, then shakes his head.)

MRS. BOYNTON. My son prefers to remain with his family.

SARAH. Can’t your son speak for himself?

MRS. BOYNTON. Tell her, son.

RAYMOND. I—I prefer to be with—with my family.

SARAH. (Angrily) Really? What devotion! (With a contemptuous glance at RAYMOND, she crosses below the table Centre to LADY WESTHOLME.) Thank you for suggesting that I should come to Petra with your party, Lady Westholme. I should like to very much.

LADY WESTHOLME. Excellent.

(MRS. BOYNTON turns her head and looks at LADY WESTHOLME and SARAH. Her face shows no expression.)

On Tuesday, then, ten o’clock. So pleased you are joining us, Miss King.

(SARAH crosses and exits quickly to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends. LADY WESTHOLME rises and follows SARAH to the lift, but the door closes as she arrives. She angrily rings the bell. MRS. BOYNTON continues to observe LADY WESTHOLME. HIGGS rises and moves to the desk.)

LENNOX. (Moving Left Centre) Do you want to go up now, Mother?

MRS. BOYNTON. What?

LENNOX. Do you want to go up now?

MRS. BOYNTON. Not just now. You and Ray go. I want my spectacles. You two go on. Nadine and I will follow.

(LENNOX and RAYMOND move to the lift door. The lift descends and the door opens. LADY WESTHOLME, LENNOX and RAYMOND exit to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends. MRS. BOYNTON smiles to herself, then turns her head and looks at NADINE.)

HIGGS. (To the CLERK) ’Ere! What floor’s ’er ladyship goin’ oop to?

CLERK. Second floor, sir.

HIGGS. Ho! And another thing. I’m goin’ on this trip to Petra. There’s room in the car?

CLERK. Yes, sir. I’ve a seat reserved for you.

HIGGS. Ho! And is ’er ladyship comin’?

CLERK. Yes, sir.

HIGGS. Ho! Well, I’m not ridin’ on t’roof, see.

(HIGGS exits up Right.)

MRS. BOYNTON. Nadine.

NADINE. (Moving to Right of MRS. BOYNTON) Yes, Mother?

MRS. BOYNTON. My spectacles.

(The lift descends and the door opens. COPE enters from the lift and goes to the desk.)

NADINE. (Holding out the spectacles) They were on the table.

MRS. BOYNTON. Don’t give them to me. Take them upstairs. And will you see that Jinny has some hot milk?

NADINE. She doesn’t like hot milk.

MRS. BOYNTON. It’s good for her. Go along, my dear. I’ll just have a little talk with your friend Mr. Cope.

(NADINE exits to the lift. The door closes and the lift ascends.)

COPE. (Moving Left Centre) Delighted, Mrs. Boynton.

MRS. BOYNTON. Such a good daughter to me—quite like a real daughter. I don’t know what we should all do without Nadine.

COPE. Yes, indeed, I can quite appreciate how you rely upon her.

(The CLERK exits up Left.)

MRS. BOYNTON. We’re a very devoted family.

COPE. I know—I know . . .

MRS. BOYNTON. (Looking sharply at him) What’s on your mind?

COPE. Why—nothing.

MRS. BOYNTON. Don’t mind saying it.

COPE. Well—maybe you’ll think it great cheek on my part . . .

MRS. BOYNTON. I like frankness.

COPE. Well, frankly, then, I just wondered . . . Oh, don’t misunderstand me—I only meant that—well—one can shield people too much from the outside world.

MRS. BOYNTON. You mean—(She smiles) I’m too fond of my children?

COPE. Let’s say—you’re over-anxious about them. They—they’ve got to learn to stand on their own feet sometime, you know. (He sits Left of the table Centre.)

MRS. BOYNTON. You’re probably quite right. That’s partly, you know, why I brought them abroad. I didn’t want them to become provincial. Travel, they say, broadens the mind.

COPE. Yes, indeed.

MRS. BOYNTON. It was very dull. (Reminiscently) Day after day—no savour to things. Yes, it was dull. (She chuckles) It’s not dull here.

COPE. No, Jerusalem is a mighty interesting place.

MRS. BOYNTON. And I’ve been thinking of what you said earlier—about Petra.

COPE. Yes?

MRS. BOYNTON. I feel—the children ought to see Petra.

COPE. (Rising) Why, that’s grand. You’ll do as I suggested, split up. Someone’s got to stay and look after you, of course.

MRS. BOYNTON. No, I’m going to Petra, too.

COPE. Oh, but really, Mrs. Boynton, I don’t think you realize the difficulties. It’s right off the beaten track. Two long days motoring and the last stage is on horses or mules.

MRS. BOYNTON. I’m an old woman with many physical disabilities, but I don’t allow that to interfere with my—(She pauses) pleasures. These things can be arranged—by the expenditure of money. The last stage can be done in a carrying chair with bearers or a kind of litter.

COPE. It sounds quite biblical.

MRS. BOYNTON. Yes—quite biblical.

COPE. But really, you know, I don’t think you’re wise. Your health isn’t too good, you know. Your heart . . .

MRS. BOYNTON. I don’t take my heart into account when I’m planning a pleasure party for other people. It’s a bad plan to think too much of oneself. One should think of others. That’s settled, then?

COPE. Well, I do really take my hat off to you, Mrs. Boynton. You’re the most unselfish woman. Always thinking of the youngsters.

MRS. BOYNTON. It wouldn’t be the same for them if I wasn’t there. You’ll travel with us?

COPE. Why, certainly, I shall be delighted.

MRS. BOYNTON. That will give Nadine great pleasure, I’m sure. You’re very fond of Nadine, aren’t you?

COPE. (Moving a little down Left; embarrassed) Well, I . . .

MRS. BOYNTON. You’ll make the arrangements, won’t you?

COPE. (Crossing up Right) Certainly. I’ll go and make enquiries now.

(COPE exits Right. MRS. BOYNTON is left alone. Presently she begins to laugh, a silent laugh that shakes her like a jelly. Her face is malevolent and full of glee as—the Curtain falls.)

CURTAIN