Read The Tragedy of Mister Morn Online

Authors: Vladimir Nabokov,Thomas Karshan,Anastasia Tolstoy

The Tragedy of Mister Morn (4 page)

BOOK: The Tragedy of Mister Morn
7.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Scene I

A room. The curtains are drawn. A fire blazes
.
TREMENS
sleeps in an armchair by the fire, wrapped up in a spotted blanket. He awakens heavily
.

TREMENS:

Dream, fever, dream; the soundless changing

of two sentinels standing at the gates

of my powerless life …

On the walls

the floral patterns form mocking faces;

the burning hearth hisses at me, not with fire

but with a serpent chill … O heart, O heart,

blaze up!
Begone, fever, you snake! … Helpless

am I … But, O my heart, how I would like

to lend my trembling sickness to this fair

and careless city, so that the Royal Square

should sweat and blaze, as does my brow;

so that the barefoot streets should grow cold,

so that the whistling wind should shudder

the tall houses, the gardens, the statues

at the crossroads, the embankments, the ships

on the convulsing waters! …

[
calls out
]

Ella! … Ella! …

[
ELLA
enters, elegantly coiffed but in a dressinggown
.]

TREMENS:

Give me some port and that glass phial,

the one on the right, with the green tag …

So, you are going dancing?

ELLA
[
uncorks the decanter
]:

Yes.

TREMENS:

Will your Klian be there?

ELLA:

He will.

TREMENS:

Is it love?

ELLA
[
sits down on the arm of the chair
]:

I don’t know … It’s all so strange …

It’s not at all as it is in songs … Last night

I dreamt that I was a new white bridge,

made out of pine, I think, and covered in tears

of resin, thrown lightly over an abyss … And so

I waited. Alas, there were no timid footsteps—

the bridge yearned to yield sweetly, to crunch

in torment beneath the thunder of blind hooves …

I waited—and then, suddenly, I saw:

towards me, towards me, blazing, wailing,

whirled forth the form of a Minotaur,

with the broad chest and face of Klian!

Blissfully I surrendered—and awoke …

TREMENS:

I understand, Ella … Well, this pleases me—

it is my blood which has cried out in you,

my greedy blood …

ELLA
[
preparing the medicine
]:

One drop … two drops … five,

six … seven … Enough?

TREMENS:

Yes. Get dressed,

go … it’s late … Wait—stoke the fire …

ELLA:

Coals, coals, you blushing hearts …
Fain burn!

[
looks at herself in the mirror
]

How is my hair? I’ll wear a gold gauze dress.

I am going …

[
On her way out, she stops
.]
… Oh, Klian brought me

his poems the other day; he sings them

so amusingly, flaring his nostrils slightly,

closing his eyes—like this, look—his palm

stroking the air as if it were a little

dog …

[
Exits, laughing
.]

TREMENS:

My greedy blood … And yet her mother

was so trusting and so tender; yes,

tender and cleaving, like pollen, drifting

through the air, onto my chest … Off with you,

you sunny piece of fluff! … Thank you, Death,

that you took this tenderness away from me:

free am I, free and reckless … Henceforth,

my servant Death, shall we oft agree … O,

I will send you out into this very night,

into those blazing windows above dark mounds

of snow; into those houses where life

twirls and dances … But I must wait …

It is not time yet … I must wait.

[
Falls asleep. There is a knock at the door
.]

TREMENS
[
shaking off sleep
]:

Come in! …

SERVANT:

There is, my lord, a man out there—a dark,

bedraggled man—he wants to see you …

TREMENS:

His name?

SERVANT:

He won’t say.

TREMENS:

Let him in.
[
SERVANT
exits. A
MAN
enters through the open door and stops on the threshold
.]

TREMENS:

What do you want?

MAN
[
slowly grinning
]:

… And still

the same spotted blanket on his shoulders …

TREMENS
[
looks closer at him
]:

Forgive me … my eyes are bleary … but,

I do recognize, I recognize … Yes,

for certain … Is it you,—you? Ganus?

GANUS:

You weren’t expecting me? My friend, my leader,

my Tremens, you weren’t expecting me? …

TREMENS:

Four years, Ganus! …

GANUS:

Four years? Not years,

but stony boulders! Rocks, hard labour,

loneliness—and then—an indescribable

escape! … Tell me, how is my wife, Midia?

TREMENS:

She lives, she lives … Yes, I recognize you,

friend—the same Ganus, quick as fire,

the same passion in your speech and movements …

So you fled? And … what of the others?

GANUS:

I escaped—they still languish … You know,

I came to you, like the wind—straight away,

I’ve not yet been home … So you say, Midia …

TREMENS:

Listen, Ganus, I need to explain to you …

It is strange that the main rebel leader … No, no,

don’t interrupt me! In truth, is it not strange

that I am free, when I know that my friends

suffer in black exile? I live just as before:

rumour does not name me; I’m still the same

twisted and secret leader … But believe me,

I did everything to burn in hell with you—

when they seized you all, I, incorruptible,

wrote a denunciation against Tremens …

Two days went by, on the third day I received

an answer. What was it? Well, listen: it was,

I remember, a dull and windy evening. I was

too lazy to put on the lights. It was growing

dark. I sat here and
shook with fever,

rippling like a reflection in an ice-hole.

Ella had not yet returned from school. Suddenly—

a knock, and a man enters; his face obscured

in shadow, his voice muffled, as though it too

were tinged with darkness. Ganus, you are

not listening! …

GANUS:

My friend, my dear friend,

you can tell me this later. I’m agitated,

I cannot follow. I want to forget, forget

all this—the smoke of revolutionary

conversation, the backstreets in the night …

Advise me, what shall I do: go to Midia now,

or wait? Oh, don’t be angry! Don’t! …

Please, go on …

TREMENS:

Understand, Ganus, I must

explain! There are more important things

than earthly love …

GANUS:

… And so, this stranger …

tell me …

TREMENS:

… was very strange. Quietly

he approached me: “The King has read your letter

and thanks you for it,” he said, taking off

his glove, and a smile, it seemed, slipped across

his hazy face. “Yes …” the messenger

continued, theatrically slapping his glove,

“you are a clever conspirator, while the King

punishes only the foolish; from this follows

a conclusion, a challenge: walk free, magnet,

and gather up, magnet, the scattered needles,

the revolutionary souls, and when you gather them,

we’ll sweep them up, and start again; so walk free,

shine on, attract …” Ganus, you are not listening …

GANUS:

On the contrary, my friend, on the contrary …

What happened next?

TREMENS:

Nothing. He left,

calmly bowing … For a long time after, I stared

at the door. Since then, I rage in passionate

idleness … Since then I wait; I stubbornly await

a blunder from the strained powers that be,

so I can make a move … Four years I wait.

I dream enormous dreams … Listen, the time

is near! Listen, you living piece of steel,

will you be drawn to me again? …

GANUS:

I don’t know …

I don’t think so … You see, I … But Tremens,

you haven’t told me about my Midia!

What does she do?

TREMENS:

Her? She strays.

GANUS:

How dare you, Tremens! I must confess

I am unused to your blaspheming words—

and I will not tolerate …

[
ELLA
has appeared, unnoticed, in the doorway
.]

TREMENS:

… in other times

you would have laughed … My right-hand man—

hard, clear, and free—has become tender,

like an ageing maid …

GANUS:

Tremens, forgive me,

if I misunderstood your joke, but you

do not know, you do not know … I have

suffered greatly … The wind in the reeds

whispered to me of adultery. I prayed. I bribed

my creeping doubts with forced memories,

with the most winged, the most sacred ones,

which lose their colour as they fly into words,

and now, suddenly …

ELLA
[
approaching
]:

Of course he was joking!

TREMENS:

Eavesdropping, eh?

ELLA:

No. I’ve long known—

you love equivocating little words,

riddles, that’s all …

TREMENS
[to ganus]:

Do you recognize my daughter?

GANUS:

What, surely it can’t be—Ella? That girl

who always lay spread out with a book, here

on this fur, while we reduced worlds to ashes? …

ELLA:

And you would blaze louder than the rest,

and smoke so much, sometimes, it seemed there were

not people but ghosts dancing in the grey-blue

waves … But how did you return?

GANUS:

I stunned

two sentries with a log and wandered lost

for half a year … And now, having finally

arrived, the fugitive dares not enter

his own home …

ELLA:

I go there often.

GANUS:

BOOK: The Tragedy of Mister Morn
7.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Rare and Precious Things by Raine Miller
06 Fatal Mistake by Marie Force
Angelfire by Courtney Allison Moulton
The Discovery of Genesis by C. H. Kang, Ethel R. Nelson
Dream of Ding Village by Yan Lianke
Secrecy by Belva Plain
Emerald City by David Williamson
Melt by Natalie Anderson
Bilgewater by Jane Gardam