Part 5

BERTHA. He has. Of all the persons I met since I came back he is the only one who has. And he knows what they only suspect. And that is why I liked him from the first and like him still. Great respect for me she has! Why did you not ask her to come away with you nine years ago?

RICHARD. You know why, Bertha. Ask yourself.

BERTHA. Yes, I know why. You knew the answer you would get. That is why.

RICHARD. That is not why. I did not even ask you.

BERTHA. Yes. You knew I would go, asked or not. I do things. But if I do one thing I can do two things. As I have the name I can have the gains.

RICHARD. [_With increasing excitement._] Bertha, I accept what is to be. I have trusted you. I will trust you still.

BERTHA. To have that against me. To leave me then. [_Almost passionately._] Why do you not defend me then against him? Why do you go away from me now without a word? Dick, my God, tell me what you wish me to do?

RICHARD. I cannot, dear. [_Struggling with himself._] Your own heart will tell you. [_He seizes both her hands._] I have a wild delight in my soul, Bertha, as I look at you. I see you as you are yourself. That I came first in your life or before him then—that may be nothing to you. You may be his more than mine.

BERTHA. I am not. Only I feel for him, too.

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.

BERTHA. [_Dreamily._] I will remain.

RICHARD. Goodbye.

[_He lets her hand fall and goes out rapidly on the right. Bertha remains sitting. Then she rises and goes timidly towards the porch. She stops near it and, after a little hesitation, calls into the garden._]

BERTHA. Is anyone out there?

[_At the same time she retreats towards the middle of the room. Then she calls again in the same way._]

BERTHA. Is anyone there?

[_Robert appears in the open doorway that leads in from the garden. His coat is buttoned and the collar is turned up. He holds the doorposts with his hands lightly and waits for Bertha to see him._]

BERTHA. [_Catching sight of him, starts back: then, quickly._] Robert!

ROBERT. Are you alone?

BERTHA. Yes.

ROBERT. [_Looking towards the door on the right._] Where is he?

BERTHA. Gone. [_Nervously._] You startled me. Where did you come from?

ROBERT. [_With a movement of his head._] Out there. Did he not tell you I was out there—waiting?

BERTHA. [_Quickly._] Yes, he told me. But I was afraid here alone. With the door open, waiting. [_She comes to the table and rests her hand on the corner._] Why do you stand like that in the doorway?

ROBERT. Why? I am afraid too.

BERTHA. Of what?

ROBERT. Of you.

BERTHA. [_Looks down._] Do you hate me now?

ROBERT. I fear you. [_Clasping his hands at his back, quietly but a little defiantly._] I fear a new torture—a new trap.

BERTHA. [_As before._] For what do you blame me?

ROBERT. [_Comes forward a few steps, halts: then impulsively:_] Why did you lead me on? Day after day, more and more. Why did you not stop me? You could have—with a word. But not even a word! I forgot myself and him. You saw it. That I was ruining myself in his eyes, losing his friendship. Did you want me to?

BERTHA. [_Looking up._] You never asked me.

ROBERT. Asked you what?

BERTHA. If he suspected—or knew.

ROBERT. And would you have told me?

BERTHA. Yes.

ROBERT. [_Hesitatingly._] Did you tell him—everything?

BERTHA. I did.

ROBERT. I mean—details.

BERTHA. Everything.

ROBERT. [_With a forced smile._] I see. You were making an experiment for his sake. On me. Well, why not? It seems I was a good subject. Still, it was a little cruel of you.

BERTHA. Try to understand me, Robert. You must try.

ROBERT. [_With a polite gesture._] Well, I will try.

BERTHA. Why do you stand like that near the door? It makes me nervous to look at you.

ROBERT. I am trying to understand. And then I am afraid.

BERTHA. [_Holds out her hand._] You need not be afraid.

[_Robert comes towards her quickly and takes her hand._]

ROBERT. [_Diffidently._] Used you to laugh over me—together? [_Drawing his hand away._] But now I must be good or you may laugh over me again—tonight.

BERTHA. [_Distressed, lays her hand on his arm._] Please listen to me, Robert... But you are all wet, drenched! [_She passes her hands over his coat._] O, you poor fellow! Out there in the rain all that time! I forgot that.

ROBERT. [_Laughs._] Yes, you forgot the climate.

BERTHA. But you are really drenched. You must change your coat.

ROBERT. [_Takes her hands._] Tell me, it is pity then that you feel for me, as he—as Richard—says?

BERTHA. Please change your coat, Robert, when I ask you. You might get a very bad cold from that. Do, please.

ROBERT. What would it matter now?

BERTHA. [_Looking round her._] Where do you keep your clothes here?

ROBERT. [_Points to the door at the back._] In there. I fancy I have a jacket here. [_Maliciously._] In my bedroom.

BERTHA. Well, go in and take that off.

ROBERT. And you?

BERTHA. I will wait here for you.

ROBERT. Do you command me to?

BERTHA. [_Laughing._] Yes, I command you.

ROBERT. [_Promptly._] Then I will. [_He goes quickly towards the bedroom door; then turns round._] You won’t go away?

BERTHA. No, I will wait. But don’t be long.

ROBERT. Only a moment.

[_He goes into the bedroom, leaving the door open. Bertha looks curiously about her and then glances in indecision towards the door at the back._]

ROBERT. [_From the bedroom._] You have not gone?

BERTHA. No.

ROBERT. I am in the dark here. I must light the lamp.

[_He is heard striking a match, and putting a glass shade on a lamp. A pink light comes in through the doorway. Bertha glances at her watch at her wristlet and then sits at the table._]

ROBERT. [_As before._] Do you like the effect of the light?

BERTHA. O, yes.

ROBERT. Can you admire it from where you are?

BERTHA. Yes, quite well.

ROBERT. It was for you.

BERTHA. [_Confused._] I am not worthy even of that.

ROBERT. [_Clearly, harshly._] Love’s labour lost.

BERTHA. [_Rising nervously._] Robert!

ROBERT. Yes?

BERTHA. Come here, quickly! Quickly, I say!

ROBERT. I am ready.

[_He appears in the doorway, wearing a darkgreen velvet jacket. Seeing her agitation, he comes quickly towards her._]

ROBERT. What is it, Bertha?

BERTHA. [_Trembling._] I was afraid.

ROBERT. Of being alone?

BERTHA. [_Catches his hands._] You know what I mean. My nerves are all upset.

ROBERT. That I...?

BERTHA. Promise me, Robert, not to think of such a thing. Never. If you like me at all. I thought that moment...

ROBERT. What an idea?

BERTHA. But promise me if you like me.

ROBERT. If I like you, Bertha! I promise. Of course, I promise. You are trembling all over.

BERTHA. Let me sit down somewhere. It will pass in a moment.

ROBERT. My poor Bertha! Sit down. Come.

[_He leads her towards a chair near the table. She sits down. He stands beside her._]

ROBERT. [_After a short pause._] Has it passed?

BERTHA. Yes. It was only for a moment. I was very silly. I was afraid that... I wanted to see you near me.

ROBERT. That... that you made me promise not to think of?

BERTHA. Yes.

ROBERT. [_Keenly._] Or something else?

BERTHA. [_Helplessly._] Robert, I feared something. I am not sure what.

ROBERT. And now?

BERTHA. Now you are here. I can see you. Now it has passed.

ROBERT. [_With resignation._] Passed. Yes. Love’s labour lost.

BERTHA. [_Looks up at him._] Listen, Robert. I want to explain to you about that. I could not deceive Dick. Never. In nothing. I told him everything—from the first. Then it went on and on; and still you never spoke or asked me. I wanted you to.

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?

ROBERT. [_Softly and a little shyly._] How could you, Bertha, tell him everything? Did you? Every single thing that passed between us?

BERTHA. Yes. Everything he asked me.

ROBERT. Did he ask you—much?

BERTHA. You know the kind he is. He asks about everything. The ins and outs.

ROBERT. About our kissing, too?

BERTHA. Of course. I told him all.

ROBERT. [_Shakes his head slowly._] Extraordinary little person! Were you not ashamed?

BERTHA. No.

ROBERT. Not a bit?

BERTHA. No. Why? Is that terrible?

ROBERT. And how did he take it? Tell me. I want to know everything, too.

BERTHA. [_Laughs._] It excited him. More than usual.

ROBERT. Why? Is he excitable—still?

BERTHA. [_Archly._] Yes, very. When he is not lost in his philosophy.

ROBERT. More than I?

BERTHA. More than you? [_Reflecting._] How could I answer that? You both are, I suppose?

[_Robert turns aside and gazes towards the porch, passing his hand once or twice thoughtfully over his hair._]

BERTHA. [_Gently._] Are you angry with me again?

ROBERT. [_Moodily._] You are with me.

BERTHA. No, Robert. Why should I be?

ROBERT. Because I asked you to come to this place. I tried to prepare it for you. [_He points vaguely here and there._] A sense of quietness.

BERTHA. [_Touching his jacket with her fingers._] And this, too. Your nice velvet coat.

ROBERT. Also. I will keep no secrets from you.

BERTHA. You remind me of someone in a picture. I like you in it... But you are not angry, are you?

ROBERT. [_Darkly._] Yes. That was my mistake. To ask you to come here. I felt it when I looked at you from the garden and saw you—you, Bertha—standing here. [_Hopelessly._] But what else could I have done?

BERTHA. [_Quietly._] You mean because others have been here?

ROBERT. Yes.

[_He walks away from her a few paces. A gust of wind makes the lamp on the table flicker. He lowers the wick slightly._]

BERTHA. [_Following him with her eyes._] But I knew that before I came. I am not angry with you for it.

ROBERT. [_Shrugs his shoulders._] Why should you be angry with me after all? You are not even angry with him—for the same thing—or worse.

BERTHA. Did he tell you that about himself?

ROBERT. Yes. He told me. We all confess to one another here. Turn about.

BERTHA. I try to forget it.

ROBERT. It does not trouble you?

BERTHA. Not now. Only I dislike to think of it.

ROBERT. It is merely something brutal, you think? Of little importance?

BERTHA. It does not trouble me—now.

ROBERT. [_Looking at her over his shoulder._] But there is something that would trouble you very much and that you would not try to forget?

BERTHA. What?

ROBERT. [_Turning towards her._] If it were not only something brutal with this person or that—for a few moments. If it were something fine and spiritual—with one person only—with one woman. [_Smiles._] And perhaps brutal too. It usually comes to that sooner or later. Would you try to forget and forgive that?

BERTHA. [_Toying with her wristlet._] In whom?

ROBERT. In anyone. In me.

BERTHA. [_Calmly._] You mean in Dick.

ROBERT. I said in myself. But would you?

BERTHA. You think I would revenge myself? Is Dick not to be free too?

ROBERT. [_Points at her._] That is not from your heart, Bertha.

BERTHA. [_Proudly._] Yes, it is; let him be free too. He leaves me free also.

ROBERT. [_Insistently._] And you know why? And understand? And you like it? And you want to be? And it makes you happy? And has made you happy? Always? This gift of freedom which he gave you—nine years ago?

BERTHA. [_Gazing at him with wide open eyes._] But why do you ask me such a lot of questions, Robert?

ROBERT. [_Stretches out both hands to her._] Because I had another gift to offer you then—a common simple gift—like myself. If you want to know it I will tell you.

BERTHA. [_Looking at her watch._] Past is past, Robert. And I think I ought to go now. It is nine almost.

ROBERT. [_Impetuously._] No, no. Not yet. There is one confession more and we have the right to speak.

[_He crosses before the table rapidly and sits down beside her._]

BERTHA. [_Turning towards him, places her left hand on his shoulder._] Yes, Robert. I know that you like me. You need not tell me. [_Kindly._] You need not confess any more tonight.

[_A gust of wind enters through the porch, with a sound of moving leaves. The lamp flickers quickly._]

BERTHA. [_Pointing over his shoulder._] Look! It is too high.

[_Without rising, he bends towards the table, and turns down the wick more. The room is half dark. The light comes in more strongly through the doorway of the bedroom._]

ROBERT. The wind is rising. I will close that door.

BERTHA. [_Listening._] No, it is raining still. It was only a gust of wind.

ROBERT. [_Touches her shoulder._] Tell me if the air is too cold for you. [_Half rising._] I will close it.

BERTHA. [_Detaining him._] No. I am not cold. Besides, I am going now, Robert. I must.

ROBERT. [_Firmly._] No, no. There is no _must_ now. We were left here for this. And you are wrong, Bertha. The past is not past. It is present here now. My feeling for you is the same now as it was then, because then—you slighted it.

BERTHA. No, Robert. I did not.

ROBERT. [_Continuing._] You did. And I have felt it all these years without knowing it—till now. Even while I lived—the kind of life you know and dislike to think of—the kind of life to which you condemned me.

BERTHA. I?

ROBERT. Yes, when you slighted the common simple gift I had to offer you—and took his gift instead.

BERTHA. [_Looking at him._] But you never...

ROBERT. No. Because you had chosen him. I saw that. I saw it on the first night we met, we three together. Why did you choose him?

BERTHA. [_Bends her head._] Is that not love?

ROBERT. [_Continuing._] And every night when we two—he and I—came to that corner to meet you I saw it and felt it. You remember the corner, Bertha?

BERTHA. [_As before._] Yes.

ROBERT. And when you and he went away for your walk and I went along the street alone I felt it. And when he spoke to me about you and told me he was going away—then most of all.

BERTHA. Why then most of all?

ROBERT. Because it was then that I was guilty of my first treason towards him.

BERTHA. Robert, what are you saying? Your first treason against Dick?

ROBERT. [_Nods._] And not my last. He spoke of you and himself. Of how your life would be together—free and all that. Free, yes! He would not even ask you to go with him. [_Bitterly._] He did not. And you went all the same.

BERTHA. I wanted to be with him. You know... [_Raising her head and looking at him._] You know how we were then—Dick and I.

ROBERT. [_Unheeding._] I advised him to go alone—not to take you with him—to live alone in order to see if what he felt for you was a passing thing which might ruin your happiness and his career.

BERTHA. Well, Robert. It was unkind of you towards me. But I forgive you because you were thinking of his happiness and mine.

ROBERT. [_Bending closer to her._] No, Bertha. I was not. And that was my treason. I was thinking of myself—that you might turn from him when he had gone and he from you. Then I would have offered you my gift. You know what it was now. The simple common gift that men offer to women. Not the best perhaps. Best or worst—it would have been yours.

BERTHA. [_Turning away from him._] He did not take your advice.

ROBERT. [_As before._] No. And the night you ran away together—O, how happy I was!

BERTHA. [_Pressing his hands._] Keep calm, Robert. I know you liked me always. Why did you not forget me?

ROBERT. [_Smiles bitterly._] How happy I felt as I came back along the quays and saw in the distance the boat lit up going down the black river, taking you away from me! [_In a calmer tone._] But why did you choose him? Did you not like me at all?

BERTHA. Yes. I liked you because you were his friend. We often spoke about you. Often and often. Every time you wrote or sent papers or books to Dick. And I like you still, Robert. [_Looking into his eyes._] I never forgot you.

ROBERT. Nor I you. I knew I would see you again. I knew it the night you went away—that you would come back. And that was why I wrote and worked to see you again—here.

BERTHA. And here I am. You were right.

ROBERT. [_Slowly._] Nine years. Nine times more beautiful!

BERTHA. [_Smiling._] But am I? What do you see in me?

ROBERT. [_Gazing at her._] A strange and beautiful lady.

BERTHA. [_Almost disgusted._] O, please don’t call me such a thing!

ROBERT. [_Earnestly._] You are more. A young and beautiful queen.

BERTHA. [_With a sudden laugh._] O, Robert!

ROBERT. [_Lowering his voice and bending nearer to her._] But do you not know that you are a beautiful human being? Do you not know that you have a beautiful body? Beautiful and young?

BERTHA. [_Gravely._] Some day I will be old.

ROBERT. [_Shakes his head._] I cannot imagine it. Tonight you are young and beautiful. Tonight you have come back to me. [_With passion._] Who knows what will be tomorrow? I may never see you again or never see you as I do now.

BERTHA. Would you suffer?

ROBERT. [_Looks round the room, without answering._] This room and this hour were made for your coming. When you have gone—all is gone.

BERTHA. [_Anxiously._] But you will see me again, Robert... as before.

ROBERT. [_Looks full at her._] To make him—Richard—suffer.

BERTHA. He does not suffer.

ROBERT. [_Bowing his head._] Yes, yes. He does.

BERTHA. He knows we like each other. Is there any harm, then?

ROBERT. [_Raising his head._] No there is no harm. Why should we not? He does not know yet what I feel. He has left us alone here at night, at this hour, because he longs to know it—he longs to be delivered.

BERTHA. From what?

ROBERT. [_Moves closer to her and presses her arm as he speaks._] From every law, Bertha, from every bond. All his life he has sought to deliver himself. Every chain but one he has broken and that one we are to break. 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! Let me hear your voice say it. Softly!

BERTHA. [_Softly._] Robert!

ROBERT. [_Puts his arm about her shoulder._] 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._]

BERTHA. [_Pointing to the lamp._] Look!

ROBERT. Only the wind. We have light enough from the other room.

[_He stretches his hand across the table and puts out the lamp. The light from the doorway of the bedroom crosses the place where they sit. The room is quite dark._]

ROBERT. Are you happy? Tell me.

BERTHA. I am going now, Robert. It is very late. Be satisfied.

ROBERT. [_Caressing her hair._] Not yet, not yet. Tell me, do you love me a little?

BERTHA. I like you, Robert. I think you are good. [_Half rising._] Are you satisfied?

ROBERT. [_Detaining her, kisses her hair._] Do not go, Bertha! There is time still. Do you love me too? I have waited a long time. Do you love us both—him and also me? Do you, Bertha? The truth! Tell me. Tell me with your eyes. Or speak!

[_She does not answer. In the silence the rain is heard falling._]

Third Act

_The drawingroom of Richard Rowan’s house at Merrion. The folding doors at the right are closed and also the double doors leading to the garden. The green plush curtains are drawn across the window on the left. The room is half dark. It is early in the morning of the next day. Bertha sits beside the window looking out between the curtains. She wears a loose saffron dressing gown. Her hair is combed loosely over the ears and knotted at the neck. Her hands are folded in her lap. Her face is pale and drawn._

[_Brigid comes in through the folding doors on the right with a featherbroom and duster. She is about to cross but, seeing Bertha, she halts suddenly and blesses herself instinctively._]

BRIGID. Merciful hour, ma’am. You put the heart across me. Why did you get up so early?

BERTHA. What time is it?

BRIGID. After seven, ma’am. Are you long up?

BERTHA. Some time.

BRIGID. [_Approaching her._] Had you a bad dream that woke you?

BERTHA. I didn’t sleep all night. So I got up to see the sun rise.

BRIGID. [_Opens the double doors._] It’s a lovely morning now after all the rain we had. [_Turns round._] But you must be dead tired, ma’am. What will the master say at your doing a thing like that? [_She goes to the door of the study and knocks._] Master Richard!

BERTHA. [_Looks round._] He is not there. He went out an hour ago.

BRIGID. Out there, on the strand, is it?

BERTHA. Yes.

BRIGID. [_Comes towards her and leans over the back of a chair._] Are you fretting yourself, ma’am, about anything?

BERTHA. No, Brigid.