A night watch of 1916
Appropriately I spent part of my grandfather Allan's 158th birthday in the theatre - indeed, the theatre, the Royal Exchange. Three years ago I posted about how the Royal Exchange Theatre was built in the building where Allan worked, originally as a yarn agent, later as the Manchester Guardian's correspondent on the cotton trade, and which he described in the opening pages of his novel Dying Fires. Today I was there to see Don Warrington's Lear for a second time.
The visit suggested that it was time for an extract from another of Allan's plays, and it occurred to me that I might use the 1916 one-act play Night Watches which I caught in the tiny Finborough pub theatre last October. It's one of his war plays, but in a lighter mode than The Conquering Hero which I've seen three times in the past few years, though both were originally written during the First World War. In Night Watches, a middle-aged orderly in a small Red Cross Hospital is attempting to deal with the fears and suspicions of a soldier concerning a fellow-patient. The man has apparently been rendered deaf and dumb by the shock of a shell exploding near him, but the soldier keeps insisting that he isn't quite what he seems - "he might be pretendin'" - though when the orderly asks if he's accusing the other patient of shamming he rejects that term - "I'd never say a man was shammin' unless I knew. It wouldn't be fair."
Oddly enough, the next play I'm due to see at the Exchange is The Night Watch, an adaptation of Sarah Waters' novel set in the aftermath of the Second World War.
From Night Watches, by Allan Monkhouse
FIRST SOLDIER: It's a rum thing. I never thought he was that sort of feller.
ORDERLY: What sort?
FIRST SOLDIER: You think it's only pretendin'?
ORDERLY: What's only pretending?
FIRST SOLDIER: Shall I tell y'?
ORDERLY: No; not unless you like. Don't tell me anything. Go to bed.
FIRST SOLDIER: I'm bound to tell y'.
ORDERLY: Fire away, then.
FIRST SOLDIER: Calls himself deaf and dumb?
ORDERLY: Does he? Funny that he should call himself anything.
FIRST SOLDIER: He can talk right enough.
ORDERLY: How d'you know?
FIRST SOLDIER: I've heard him. Others too. That's what they didn't like. Them in the big ward.
ORDERLY: When have you heard him?
FIRST SOLDIER (Impressively): In his sleep.
ORDERLY: I see. I see.
FIRST SOLDIER: Thought y'd see.
ORDERLY: Has he done it often?
FIRST SOLDIER: Pretty reg'lar.
ORDERLY: Can you make out what he says?
FIRST SOLDIER: No, he's a bit too clever for that.
ORDERLY: Too clever? Oh come. How can that be?
FIRST SOLDIER: Looks like pretendin'? What?
ORDERLY: And why not shamming? Why don't you call it shamming?
FIRST SOLDIER: I'll tell y'. Because he's deaf right enough.
ORDERLY: How d'you know?
FIRST SOLDIER: 'Cause y' may make a noise like hell behind 'im and he doesn't move. Y' may burst a paper bag agen 'is ear 'ole. He's deaf, 'e is, so I wouldn't go so far as to say 'e's shammin'.
ORDERLY: Yes, I begin to see the difference.
FIRST SOLDIER: Thought y' would.
ORDERLY: Now, look here. I don't think he's shamming or pretending or anything.
FIRST SOLDIER: I tell y' I've 'eard 'im many a time. It used to make me go creeps. It does still but I'm more vexed now. When y' curse 'im for it he can't 'ear a word.
ORDERLY: Look here. Have you - any of you - told him that he talks in his sleep?
FIRST SOLDIER: Tell 'im? 'E wouldn't 'ear.
ORDERLY: Yes, yes, yes; but you can write it. He can read, I suppose?
FIRST SOLDIER: I don't set much store by that way of writin'.
ORDERLY: Now, that's no reason.
FIRST SOLDIER: I don't want 'im on to me.
ORDERLY: What d'you mean?
FIRST SOLDIER: You don't know what a feller like that'll do.
ORDERLY: What have you against him?
FIRST SOLDIER (Testily): 'Aven't I been tellin' y'?
ORDERLY: Not a word.
FIRST SOLDIER: Are you off your nut or am I?
ORDERLY: Both of us, perhaps.
FIRST SOLDIER: He gives out as 'e's dumb. Is 'e?
ORDERLY: Yes. When he's awake.
FIRST SOLDIER: Well, now -
ORDERLY: Let me explain - or try to. What is this dumbness? He has had a great shock and it has completely shattered - paralysed - of course, I don't understand it as a doctor would or a scientific man - it has put all his nerves wrong, it has cut off - or paralysed - the connections between his will - what he wants to do - and what he can do. D'you see? Well, he's all, as it were, dithering. And then he goes to sleep.
FIRST SOLDIER: Ah! That's it.
ORDERLY (Encouraged): He goes to sleep. And do you know - have you thought what a beautiful thing sleep is? We relax, we sink into nature, we - you don't read Shakespeare?
FIRST SOLDIER: I've 'eard tell of 'im.
ORDERLY: Well, he once wrote a play about a murderer.
FIRST SOLDIER (Starting): A murderer!
ORDERLY: Yes; and when this murderer knew that he would never sleep peacefully again he reeled off the most beautiful praises of sleep and what sleep could do - devil take you, I believe you're too stupid to understand.
FIRST SOLDIER: I'll understand if you'll talk sense.
ORDERLY: Yes. I beg your pardon. It's my fault. Well, sleep will do wonders. It will heal you, it will put things right for the time, it will help you to put them right altogether. It accomplishes miracles. You awake - and there you are again.
FIRST SOLDIER: D'you believe all this yourself, sir?
ORDERLY: I think so. Yes.
FIRST SOLDIER: You said a murderer.
ORDERLY: That was Macbeth. A chap called Macbeth.
FIRST SOLDIER: Talked in 'is sleep, did 'e?
ORDERLY: Well, his wife did. She was a murderer too.
FIRST SOLDIER: Yes, you may be sure there's summat wrong when they do that.
ORDERLY: No, no. The most innocent people may do it.
FIRST SOLDIER: Innercent, indeed! He's got a bad conscience, that chap.
ORDERLY: What is a bad conscience? It's only an uncomfortable mind. Most of you have that. Most of us, I should say.
FIRST SOLDIER: Are y' sayin' I've a bad conscience?
ORDERLY: No; but I can believe that if you've been out to the war and seen horrible things you may have them on your mind. You may even talk in your sleep.
FIRST SOLDIER: That's a lie.
ORDERLY: You mustn't speak to me like that.
FIRST SOLDIER (Saluting): Beg y'r pard'n, sir.
ORDERLY: I'm not making myself out any better than you. I've a bad conscience.
FIRST SOLDIER: You, sir?
ORDERLY: Oh, this war finds us out. All the things that we might have done or left undone.
FIRST SOLDIER: D'you talk in y'r sleep?
ORDERLY (Laughing): Oh! I won't admit that.
FIRST SOLDIER: I sh'd think not.
ORDERLY: Now, look here. You're a fair-minded man. What have you against this poor chap in your room? Just look at it calmly as if you were judge or jury. What has he done?
FIRST SOLDIER: Y' talk of 'orrible things. I've seen some and I don't mention 'em - we tell y' a lot but there are some things - we may 'av seen 'em or - we may 'av thought 'em. Better forget; better forget.
ORDERLY: Well, my dear fellow, that's just it. That should make you sympathize with him.
FIRST SOLDIER: Or we may 'av done 'em.
ORDERLY: Yes, I see.
FIRST SOLDIER: Y' can't be sure. Of anyone else I mean.
ORDERLY: Of course you can't. You can't be sure of anything. But you musn't condemn others.
FIRST SOLDIER: What 'as that feller see? What 'as he done? I'm alone with 'im in that little ward. I can't make out a word, but it's talkin' right enough. I've stood over 'im listenin'. It's 'orrible langwidge. I can't make out a word. 'Ardly.
ORDERLY: Oh! come, you know -
FIRST SOLDIER: He's done somethin'. I know 'e 'as.
ORDERLY: Oh, well, my friend, if it comes to that you've done a bit of killing or tried to.
FIRST SOLDIER: I 'ad to kill them bloody Germans.
ORDERLY: I know that. That's all right.
FIRST SOLDIER: It's all so 'orrible sir that you want things to be done right. You don't want any 'anky-panky.
ORDERLY: Yes, I see.
FIRST SOLDIER: Them Germans! I reckon they're all like 'im.
ORDERLY: How like him?
FIRST SOLDIER: All talkin' in their sleep.
ORDERLY: That's a dreadful idea.
FIRST SOLDIER: An' there am I with 'im in the night. And in the big ward they're sleepin' peaceful. What did that Shakespeare say of sleep?
ORDERLY: He said a lot of things.
FIRST SOLDIER: Tell me one.
ORDERLY: "The death of each day's life" -
FIRST SOLDIER: An 'orrible idea. Damn 'im.
ORDERLY: You musn't damn Shakespeare.
FIRST SOLDIER: I will if 'e talks like that. No disrespec' to you sir. What else did 'e say?
ORDERLY: "Sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast."
FIRST SOLDIER (Humbly): I don't understand. (Resentfully) Why, it might be 'im talkin' in 'is sleep. (He jerks a thumb.)
ORDERLY: Yes, he may be saying the most beautiful things.
FIRST SOLDIER: Nay, 'e's a devil, that feller is.
ORDERLY: Hullo! What's that?
FIRST SOLDIER: Begod, 'e's comin'.
Also posted on Dreamwidth, with
comments.
The visit suggested that it was time for an extract from another of Allan's plays, and it occurred to me that I might use the 1916 one-act play Night Watches which I caught in the tiny Finborough pub theatre last October. It's one of his war plays, but in a lighter mode than The Conquering Hero which I've seen three times in the past few years, though both were originally written during the First World War. In Night Watches, a middle-aged orderly in a small Red Cross Hospital is attempting to deal with the fears and suspicions of a soldier concerning a fellow-patient. The man has apparently been rendered deaf and dumb by the shock of a shell exploding near him, but the soldier keeps insisting that he isn't quite what he seems - "he might be pretendin'" - though when the orderly asks if he's accusing the other patient of shamming he rejects that term - "I'd never say a man was shammin' unless I knew. It wouldn't be fair."
Oddly enough, the next play I'm due to see at the Exchange is The Night Watch, an adaptation of Sarah Waters' novel set in the aftermath of the Second World War.
From Night Watches, by Allan Monkhouse
FIRST SOLDIER: It's a rum thing. I never thought he was that sort of feller.
ORDERLY: What sort?
FIRST SOLDIER: You think it's only pretendin'?
ORDERLY: What's only pretending?
FIRST SOLDIER: Shall I tell y'?
ORDERLY: No; not unless you like. Don't tell me anything. Go to bed.
FIRST SOLDIER: I'm bound to tell y'.
ORDERLY: Fire away, then.
FIRST SOLDIER: Calls himself deaf and dumb?
ORDERLY: Does he? Funny that he should call himself anything.
FIRST SOLDIER: He can talk right enough.
ORDERLY: How d'you know?
FIRST SOLDIER: I've heard him. Others too. That's what they didn't like. Them in the big ward.
ORDERLY: When have you heard him?
FIRST SOLDIER (Impressively): In his sleep.
ORDERLY: I see. I see.
FIRST SOLDIER: Thought y'd see.
ORDERLY: Has he done it often?
FIRST SOLDIER: Pretty reg'lar.
ORDERLY: Can you make out what he says?
FIRST SOLDIER: No, he's a bit too clever for that.
ORDERLY: Too clever? Oh come. How can that be?
FIRST SOLDIER: Looks like pretendin'? What?
ORDERLY: And why not shamming? Why don't you call it shamming?
FIRST SOLDIER: I'll tell y'. Because he's deaf right enough.
ORDERLY: How d'you know?
FIRST SOLDIER: 'Cause y' may make a noise like hell behind 'im and he doesn't move. Y' may burst a paper bag agen 'is ear 'ole. He's deaf, 'e is, so I wouldn't go so far as to say 'e's shammin'.
ORDERLY: Yes, I begin to see the difference.
FIRST SOLDIER: Thought y' would.
ORDERLY: Now, look here. I don't think he's shamming or pretending or anything.
FIRST SOLDIER: I tell y' I've 'eard 'im many a time. It used to make me go creeps. It does still but I'm more vexed now. When y' curse 'im for it he can't 'ear a word.
ORDERLY: Look here. Have you - any of you - told him that he talks in his sleep?
FIRST SOLDIER: Tell 'im? 'E wouldn't 'ear.
ORDERLY: Yes, yes, yes; but you can write it. He can read, I suppose?
FIRST SOLDIER: I don't set much store by that way of writin'.
ORDERLY: Now, that's no reason.
FIRST SOLDIER: I don't want 'im on to me.
ORDERLY: What d'you mean?
FIRST SOLDIER: You don't know what a feller like that'll do.
ORDERLY: What have you against him?
FIRST SOLDIER (Testily): 'Aven't I been tellin' y'?
ORDERLY: Not a word.
FIRST SOLDIER: Are you off your nut or am I?
ORDERLY: Both of us, perhaps.
FIRST SOLDIER: He gives out as 'e's dumb. Is 'e?
ORDERLY: Yes. When he's awake.
FIRST SOLDIER: Well, now -
ORDERLY: Let me explain - or try to. What is this dumbness? He has had a great shock and it has completely shattered - paralysed - of course, I don't understand it as a doctor would or a scientific man - it has put all his nerves wrong, it has cut off - or paralysed - the connections between his will - what he wants to do - and what he can do. D'you see? Well, he's all, as it were, dithering. And then he goes to sleep.
FIRST SOLDIER: Ah! That's it.
ORDERLY (Encouraged): He goes to sleep. And do you know - have you thought what a beautiful thing sleep is? We relax, we sink into nature, we - you don't read Shakespeare?
FIRST SOLDIER: I've 'eard tell of 'im.
ORDERLY: Well, he once wrote a play about a murderer.
FIRST SOLDIER (Starting): A murderer!
ORDERLY: Yes; and when this murderer knew that he would never sleep peacefully again he reeled off the most beautiful praises of sleep and what sleep could do - devil take you, I believe you're too stupid to understand.
FIRST SOLDIER: I'll understand if you'll talk sense.
ORDERLY: Yes. I beg your pardon. It's my fault. Well, sleep will do wonders. It will heal you, it will put things right for the time, it will help you to put them right altogether. It accomplishes miracles. You awake - and there you are again.
FIRST SOLDIER: D'you believe all this yourself, sir?
ORDERLY: I think so. Yes.
FIRST SOLDIER: You said a murderer.
ORDERLY: That was Macbeth. A chap called Macbeth.
FIRST SOLDIER: Talked in 'is sleep, did 'e?
ORDERLY: Well, his wife did. She was a murderer too.
FIRST SOLDIER: Yes, you may be sure there's summat wrong when they do that.
ORDERLY: No, no. The most innocent people may do it.
FIRST SOLDIER: Innercent, indeed! He's got a bad conscience, that chap.
ORDERLY: What is a bad conscience? It's only an uncomfortable mind. Most of you have that. Most of us, I should say.
FIRST SOLDIER: Are y' sayin' I've a bad conscience?
ORDERLY: No; but I can believe that if you've been out to the war and seen horrible things you may have them on your mind. You may even talk in your sleep.
FIRST SOLDIER: That's a lie.
ORDERLY: You mustn't speak to me like that.
FIRST SOLDIER (Saluting): Beg y'r pard'n, sir.
ORDERLY: I'm not making myself out any better than you. I've a bad conscience.
FIRST SOLDIER: You, sir?
ORDERLY: Oh, this war finds us out. All the things that we might have done or left undone.
FIRST SOLDIER: D'you talk in y'r sleep?
ORDERLY (Laughing): Oh! I won't admit that.
FIRST SOLDIER: I sh'd think not.
ORDERLY: Now, look here. You're a fair-minded man. What have you against this poor chap in your room? Just look at it calmly as if you were judge or jury. What has he done?
FIRST SOLDIER: Y' talk of 'orrible things. I've seen some and I don't mention 'em - we tell y' a lot but there are some things - we may 'av seen 'em or - we may 'av thought 'em. Better forget; better forget.
ORDERLY: Well, my dear fellow, that's just it. That should make you sympathize with him.
FIRST SOLDIER: Or we may 'av done 'em.
ORDERLY: Yes, I see.
FIRST SOLDIER: Y' can't be sure. Of anyone else I mean.
ORDERLY: Of course you can't. You can't be sure of anything. But you musn't condemn others.
FIRST SOLDIER: What 'as that feller see? What 'as he done? I'm alone with 'im in that little ward. I can't make out a word, but it's talkin' right enough. I've stood over 'im listenin'. It's 'orrible langwidge. I can't make out a word. 'Ardly.
ORDERLY: Oh! come, you know -
FIRST SOLDIER: He's done somethin'. I know 'e 'as.
ORDERLY: Oh, well, my friend, if it comes to that you've done a bit of killing or tried to.
FIRST SOLDIER: I 'ad to kill them bloody Germans.
ORDERLY: I know that. That's all right.
FIRST SOLDIER: It's all so 'orrible sir that you want things to be done right. You don't want any 'anky-panky.
ORDERLY: Yes, I see.
FIRST SOLDIER: Them Germans! I reckon they're all like 'im.
ORDERLY: How like him?
FIRST SOLDIER: All talkin' in their sleep.
ORDERLY: That's a dreadful idea.
FIRST SOLDIER: An' there am I with 'im in the night. And in the big ward they're sleepin' peaceful. What did that Shakespeare say of sleep?
ORDERLY: He said a lot of things.
FIRST SOLDIER: Tell me one.
ORDERLY: "The death of each day's life" -
FIRST SOLDIER: An 'orrible idea. Damn 'im.
ORDERLY: You musn't damn Shakespeare.
FIRST SOLDIER: I will if 'e talks like that. No disrespec' to you sir. What else did 'e say?
ORDERLY: "Sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast."
FIRST SOLDIER (Humbly): I don't understand. (Resentfully) Why, it might be 'im talkin' in 'is sleep. (He jerks a thumb.)
ORDERLY: Yes, he may be saying the most beautiful things.
FIRST SOLDIER: Nay, 'e's a devil, that feller is.
ORDERLY: Hullo! What's that?
FIRST SOLDIER: Begod, 'e's comin'.
Also posted on Dreamwidth, with
comments.