Ann-Marie MacDonald - Belle Moral - A Natural History

DR REID. What is it?

PEARL. Was there —? There was madness in Mother’s family, wasn’t there?

DR REID. Your mother was a beautiful woman.

PEARL. Ay, beautiful and mad. Victor is the picture of Mother; you think he’s mad.

DR REID. Unstable, perhaps.

PEARL. Doctor. [apprehensive] Will I go mad?

DR REID. No, no, my dear, you’re the picture of Ramsay.

PEARL. How did she die?

DR REID. You know quite well, she –

PEARL. She contracted child-bed fever when Victor was born.

DR REID. Ay, that’s what carried her off.

PEARL. You needn’t euphemize on my account, Doctor. How soon after onset does death normally occur?

DR REID. A matter of hours, Pearl, she didn’t suffer long.

PEARL. Yet I’m to believe Mother had time and strength to paint Victor into the family portrait before being “carried off”? I’ll warrant she was carried off, the question is “to where?” The Royal Edinburgh Asylum. Tell me, Doctor. Is she alive? And put away?

DR REID. No she is not, you have my word. As to the portrait; Régine painted the infant into it before she gave birth. After all, she knew she was with child.

A beat .

PEARL. If not mad then what was she? Immoral?

DR REID. No –

PEARL. “The sins of the Mother”, she had to’ve been either fallen or mad, which was it?

DR REID. Neither.

PEARL [angry]. Then what did Father mean?!

DR REID. He merely wished to protect you.

PEARL. From what?!

DR REID. The laws of heredity are such that … a flaw may lurk undetected for generations.

PEARL. You mean I could breed a crop of lunatics.

DR REID. You said yourself you’d no desire for bairns.

PEARL [mounting fear] . It’s in me too, isn’t it?

DR REID. Pearl –

PEARL. The flaw.

DR REID. Hush –

PEARL. “Lurking.”

DR REID. Pearl. You know I’ve been fond of you since you were a girl. I was your father’s dearest friend; I know he’d give his blessing.

PEARL. To what?

DR REID. I want to marry you, Pearl.

PEARL [nonplussed] … Why?

DR REID. Oh Pearl, there’s so much to live for, so much of beauty and wonder. I want to share it with you.

PEARL. What have we to share?

DR REID. Our work. [passionate] You were right. I have been hiding. My dearest girl, I hope you may never have cause to learn how the sweetness can drain from the cup of life so gradually as to go unnoticed. Until one day that cup is empty. But now … Oh my dear, a great journey awaits us.

PEARL. To … the Caucasus?

DR REID. The journey between one cell and another can far outdistance that between the poles of the earth. Pearl, I shall lay my entire laboratory at your feet. I’ll instruct you in the art of dissection. We’ll establish our own institute of scientific inquiry, here at Belle Moral; bypass the graybeards in London who are too antiquated in their views to recognize that, in matters of intellect, woman is the equal of man. We’ll toil side by side and I will cherish you as the alchemist of old cherished his soror mystica , my mystical sister. My equal.

PEARL. But Doctor –

DR REID. Seamus.

PEARL. We can do all of that without benefit of clergy, without … [an awkward beat]

DR REID. I would not touch a hair of your head, my dear. My passion is not of the flesh, but the mind.

A beautiful young man enters, dressed exactly as YOUNG FARLEIGH was, carrying a covered tray .

YOUNG MAN [solemn]. Refreshments.

PEARL. Who the devil are you?

YOUNG MAN. Young Farleigh’s grandson, Miss. Wee Farleigh.

Scene 1 Pearl’s Study

That night. Moonlight. The door swings open. A FIGURE enters, crouched, a worn tartan shawl draped about its head and shoulders. Audible breathing — almost a panting — as though an effort were being made to control fear and maintain silence. Sniff-sniff. Silence. The FIGURE explores the room, dropping to crawl on all fours, pausing here and there. It arrives at PEARL’S desk and is stopped by the sight of the jar. Reaches for it. Fumbles with it . FLORA appears in the doorway with an oil lamp. The FIGURE looks up and drops the jar .

FLORA. There you are. Thank God. [Firm but gentle.] Come, now. Come.

The FIGURE rises and starts toward FLORA’S outstretched hand .

Here now. Give them to me.

The FIGURE reaches out and hands FLORA her ring of keys .

Scene 2 Pearl’s Study

Next morning . PEARL enters and spots something on the floor. She takes tweezers from her desk, bends and carefully picks up the ear .

PEARL [bellowing to off] . Wee Farleigh!

WEE FARLEIGH enters with a frilly tray .

Where is that slavering cur?

WEE FARLEIGH. Out frolicking, Miss.

PEARL. Well find it and beat it. No. Put it in a sack and drown it. What’s that?

WEE FARLEIGH [formal, well-mannered, yet somehow seductive] . Breakfast, Miss. Earl Gray tea. Coddled eggs. Brioche –

PEARL. What?

WEE FARLEIGH. A bun. Only better.

PEARL. Oh. [a beat] Well, take it away, I’m … [wave of nausea] .

WEE FARLEIGH. Feeling poorly, Miss?

PEARL. Do as I say.

He goes to exit with the tray . PEARL catches sight of something else, bends and retrieves the lid and the empty jar, perfectly intact .

Wee Farleigh. You needn’t drown it, just … give him away to anyone who wants him.

WEE FARLEIGH. Ay, Miss.

Scene 3 Hallway / The Attic Stairs

FLORA and DR REID enter, heading for the attic stairs . WEE FARLEIGH enters with a pot of coffee . FLORA and DR REID step back out of sight, allowing WEE FARLEIGH to cross before they mount the stairs, resuming their conversation:

FLORA. I was wushin’ the poor creature in the tub–

DR REID. The tub?

FLORA. In the old nursery — not to worry, it’s quite out of the way — I’d doffed ma dress, if ye maun know, down to ma linens so’s not to drench mis-sel, and scarce had I turned my back when she lifted ma keys. [A touch of admiration.] For a’ that she’s meek, she’s clever.

DR REID [admonishing] . She’s cunning. What if she’d —?

FLORA. There was no harm done.

DR REID. Next time get Wee Farleigh to help you with the bathing.

FLORA. Wee Farleigh? That’s hardly decent.

DR REID. And in future, confine her ablutions to the attic. Use a basin. Do not lavish upon her, luxuries to which she is insensible.

FLORA. Ach, I was anerly tryin to make the poor lamb presentable.

DR REID. For whom?

FLORA. Why, for Pearl.

A beat .

It’s this morning I’ll be telling her. You’ll help me, won’t you, Seamus? I fear to tell her on my own.

DR REID. Need you tell her at all?

FLORA. She’ll have to know now she’s mistress here.

DR REID. Not necessarily. Not if I am master.

A beat as FLORA takes in the implications .

FLORA. Ach Seamus, you’re old enough to be the lassie’s faither.

DR REID. And that is what I shall be to her. A second father. I shall guide her studies and stimulate her mind to fructify as her womb never shall.

FLORA. Ay, but … [resisting tears] I always pictured a bonnie lad. One who’d awaken her heart and bring a flush to her cheek, a sigh to her lips –

DR REID. She’s thirty-two years old, Flora. Barren and waist-deep in the sands of time.