falls back on the cot, gazing at the ceiling. His humour swiftly collapses in bitterness. A great sob rises, which he constrains by a deep breath. Both ENGINE and the OLD WOMAN gaze at him. ENGINE leaves. The wind lifts dead leaves and litter over the floor.)
THRASH: It’s all right / I love you /
5
WARDROBE is motionless. THRASH is tender.
THRASH: Darling / I do /
(She gazes. At last WARDROBE turns onto his side to observe her. At the same moment BIBLE lurches into the room, triumphant.)
BIBLE: I was good / I was very good / if only Sisi could have seen me /
WARDROBE: (Drily.) If only /
BIBLE: For one thing / in these poems / I made radical advances in technique / and this was a consequence not of study / or meditation / but of spontaneity / instinct / bad temper / possibly / I was / briefly / or permanently / it’s impossible to judge / delivered from those inhibitions and constraints which / until now / I had submitted to / thinking them necessary disciplines / after all / it is not only choice that makes the poem / but equally / the denial of choice / what one puts in / obviously / but also / what one leaves out / all this I knew / and yet / somehow / abolished / I was reckless / I was rash / I did not weigh words for their suitability / I grabbed them from the darkness / violently / as men might be dragged out of the deepest prisons and flung screaming on their backs / I was / I was /
(In his exhilaration, BIBLE lifts his hands over his head.)
WARDROBE: Rash? /
BIBLE: Rash / yes / I said rash / didn’t I? / and this rashness was wholly correct / after all / under these circumstances / had I been mistaken / how could it matter? / who hears out here? /
(He looks at WARDROBE.)
But I was not mistaken /
(He smiles.)
Sisi would have /
(He stops. He lifts his shoulders pitifully.)
What would Sisi have done? /
(He taunts himself.)
SAID THAT’S SHIT / BIBLE / UTTER SHIT THAT STUFF /
(He shakes his head.)
But Sisi would be wrong /
(For a moment BIBLE savours his conviction. His satisfaction rapidly decays.)
I must lie down /
(He shrinks.)
I must lie down /
(He turns forlornly to WARDROBE.)
WARDROBE: It’s not your turn /
BIBLE: It’s not my turn / still I must lie down /
WARDROBE: Silly /
BIBLE: Wardrobe /
WARDROBE: Silly / I said /
BIBLE: I am in a condition of horrible frailty / Wardrobe /
WARDROBE: You are / I know /
BIBLE: The more so because to innovate in poetry / whilst intellectual obviously / drains your physical resources /
(He half-sobs.)
My knees are going /
WARDROBE: Who asked you to innovate? / not me /
BIBLE: LET ME HAVE THE BED / WARDROBE /
(By way of reply, WARDROBE turns his back, and plucking up a sheet, examines the enlarged image of SISI’s nakedness. BIBLE wails like a child. THRASH goes to him and in the fashion of a pieta, drapes him across her lap. He falls silent.)
WARDROBE: It would be very easy for me / every time some weakness overcame you / to concede the bed to you / whether it was your turn or not / but let us admit / the consequences of this generosity would be to shift the weakness from you to me / which is neither sensible / nor just /
(He lets this sheet fall, and drags up another, which he pretends to peruse.)
We agreed very early on / in a spirit of profound comradeship / that we had an equal right to life / and an equal right to whatever miserable facilities might serve to preserve it / did we not? /
(BIBLE snorts.)
We did / and among these facilities / this wretched bed is uniquely and pitifully significant / I do not recall / when I returned from my recital / you dragging yourself off the bed and surrendering it to me / nor did I plead for it / and I assure you / my shoulders ached worse than your knees /
BIBLE: (Sullenly.) You don’t know that /
WARDROBE: Allow me to confirm for you / Bible / that the exhaustion / spiritual and physical / consequent on a public performance given by me / I can’t speak for every soloist / obviously / is vastly more enervating than the mere weariness associated with reading poetry /
(BIBLE snorts.)
Yes / and this you were more than willing to admit during the first weeks of our exile / offering / if I recollect precisely / to allow me three spoonfuls of porridge to your every two / yes / yes / a privilege I declined in a spirit of equality which you / apparently / find yourself unable to /
THRASH: Shh /
WARDROBE: Imitate /
THRASH: Shh /
WARDROBE: Besides / when you came in / you were uncommonly energetic / claiming to have smashed / yet another obstacle / to greater poetry /
THRASH: Shh /
WARDROBE: Be quiet / you stink /
(THRASH accepts the rebuke.)
This weakness overcame you only when you contemplated the effect this revolution would have on Sisi /
(He exchanges one photograph for another.)
Sisi weakens you /
(Now BIBLE sinks into despair.)
She does / it’s a fact / she always did / she possesses an extraordinary talent for weakening you /
THRASH: Shh / shh /
WARDROBE: Distance / climate / notwithstanding / she weakens you /
(WARDROBE desists. BIBLE shakes his head. THRASH strokes his brow. Silence returns but for the crisp turning of the photographs and the eternal wind of the frontier.)
THRASH: I don’t say live /
(WARDROBE views SISI from another angle.)
I don’t say live / do I? / when did you
