Exiles

to the study. In there. Before dawn I went out and walked the strand from end to end. Robert Shaking his head. Suffering. Torturing yourself. Richard Hearing voices about me. The voices of those who say they love me. Robert Points to the door on the right. One. And mine? Richard Another still. Robert Smiles and touches his forehead with his right forefinger. True. My interesting but somewhat melancholy cousin. And what did they tell you? Richard They told me to despair. Robert A queer way of showing their love, I must say! And will you despair? Richard Rising. No. A noise is heard at the window. Archie’s face is seen flattened against one of the panes. He is heard calling. Archie Open the window! Open the window! Robert Looks at Richard. Did you hear his voice, too, Richard, with the others⁠—out there on the strand? Your son’s voice. Smiling. Listen! How full it is of despair! Archie Open the window, please, will you? Robert Perhaps, there, Richard, is the freedom we seek⁠—you in one way, I in another. In him and not in us. Perhaps⁠ ⁠… Richard Perhaps⁠ ⁠… ? Robert I said perhaps. I would say almost surely if⁠ ⁠… Richard If what? Robert With a faint smile. If he were mine. He goes to the window and opens it. Archie scrambles in. Robert Like yesterday⁠—eh? Archie Good morning, Mr. Hand. He runs to Richard and kisses him: Buon giorno, babbo. Richard Buon giorno, Archie. Robert And where were you, my young gentleman? Archie Out with the milkman. I drove the horse. We went to Booterstown. He takes off his cap and throws it on a chair. I am very hungry. Robert Takes his hat from the table. Richard, goodbye. Offering his hand. To our next meeting! Richard Rises, touches his hand. Goodbye. Bertha appears at the door on the right. Robert Catches sight of her: to Archie. Get your cap. Come on with me. I’ll buy you a cake and I’ll tell you a story. Archie To Bertha. May I, mamma? Bertha Yes. Archie Takes his cap. I am ready. Robert To Richard and Bertha. Goodbye to pappa and mamma. But not a big goodbye. Archie Will you tell me a fairy story, Mr. Hand? Robert A fairy story? Why not? I am your fairy godfather. They go out together through the double doors and down the garden. When they have gone Bertha goes to Richard and puts her arm round his waist. Bertha Dick, dear, do you believe now that I have been true to you? Last night and always? Richard Sadly. Do not ask me, Bertha. Bertha Pressing him more closely. I have been, dear. Surely you believe me. I gave you myself⁠—all. I gave up all for you. You took me⁠—and you left me. Richard When did I leave you? Bertha You left me: and I waited for you to come back to me. Dick, dear, come here to me. Sit down. How tired you must be! She draws him towards the lounge. He sits down, almost reclining, resting on his arm. She sits on the mat before the lounge, holding his hand. Bertha Yes, dear. I waited for you. Heavens, what I suffered then⁠—when we lived in Rome! Do you remember the terrace of our house? Richard Yes. Bertha I used to sit there, waiting, with the poor child with his toys, waiting till he got sleepy. I could see all the roofs of the city and the river, the Tevere. What is its name? Richard The Tiber. Bertha Caressing her cheek with his hand. It was lovely, Dick, only I was so sad. I was alone, Dick, forgotten by you and by all. I felt my life was ended. Richard It had not begun. Bertha And I used to look at the sky, so beautiful, without a cloud and the city you said was so old: and then I used to think of Ireland and about ourselves. Richard Ourselves? Bertha Yes. Ourselves. Not a day passes that I do not see ourselves, you and me, as we were when we met first. Every day of my life I see that. Was I not true to you all that time? Richard Sighs deeply. Yes, Bertha. You were my bride in exile. Bertha Wherever you go, I will follow you. If you wish to go away now I will go with you. Richard I will remain. It is too soon yet to despair. Bertha Again caressing his hand. It is not true that I want to drive everyone from you. I wanted to bring you close together⁠—you and him. Speak to me. Speak out all your heart to me. What you feel and what you suffer. Richard I am wounded, Bertha. Bertha How wounded, dear? Explain to me what you mean. I will try to understand everything you say. In what way are you wounded? Richard Releases his hand and, taking her head between his hands, bends it back and gazes long into her eyes. I have a deep, deep wound of doubt in my soul. Bertha Motionless. Doubt of me? Richard Yes. Bertha I am yours. In a whisper. If I died this moment, I am yours. Richard Still gazing at her and speaking as if to an absent person. I have wounded my soul for you⁠—a deep wound of doubt which can never be healed. I can never know, never in this world. I do not wish to know or to believe. I do not care. It is not in the darkness of belief that I desire you. But in restless living wounding doubt. To hold you by no bonds, even of love, to be united with you in body and soul in utter nakedness⁠—for this I longed. And now I am tired for a while, Bertha. My wound tires me. He stretches himself out wearily along the lounge. Bertha holds his hand still, speaking very softly. Bertha Forget me, Dick. Forget me and love me again as you did the first time. I want my lover. To meet