Ann-Marie MacDonald - Belle Moral - A Natural History

PEARL. And what we are to do in God’s place? How are we to know what God’s work is?

DR REID. It is to forge an earthly paradise; to rouse the infant science of eugenics from its cradle; to engender a blueprint for the New Man: genetically pure, morally uncontaminated.

PEARL. To identify the cause of the ear. And eradicate it.

DR REID. Yes.

PEARL. As far as we know, there is nothing in the fossil record to indicate man’s descent from dogs.

DR REID. There is not.

PEARL. Then, assuming the ear is canine, how can it be a throwback? If it were, one would expect it to be ape-like.

DR REID. All mammals share a common ancestor.

PEARL. Wolves and primates diverged much later; thus if a human being exhibits a canine trait, the chance of it being atavistic is exceedingly slight.

DR REID. Point taken. Then we are left, merely, with a case of monstrous birth; singular, interesting, but … [disappointed] meaningless.

PEARL. Unless …

DR REID. Unless?

PEARL. Cast your gaze forward, my friend. Might it not be an emergent characteristic? Signalling the rise of a new species.

A beat. The holy grail .

DR REID. Nature’s most closely guarded secret.

PEARL. The inner workings of life itself. Exposed.

A beat .

DR REID. Marry me, Pearl, and I will take you to the source of the ear.

PEARL. So you do know where it is from.

DR REID. Yes.

PEARL. And you will take me there. To the village on the Caucasian steppes.

DR REID. I will take you to the ends of the earth. As man and wife.

A beat .

PEARL. Seamus … [suddenly] What’s that smell? FLORA. What smell?

PEARL. It’s an overpowering stench of … paint. [Covers her mouth.]

DR REID. Pearl –

PEARL. I’m fine. I felt a bit queasy this morning, but I’m better now.

FLORA. Queasy?

DR REID. This morning?

FLORA. Is it your woman’s time?

PEARL. Flora! I’m perfectly fine, [as though suddenly recovered] in fact I’m longing for luncheon.

FLORA. Wee Farleigh’s fixed a lovely … French thing.

WEE FARLEIGH exits .

PEARL. Winkles.

FLORA. Winkles?

PEARL. I must have them, tell Wee Farleigh — or no, I’ll tell him myself.

PEARL exits .

FLORA. What’s the matter with the lass? Queasy one moment, craving winkles the next, it’s almost as though she were … Seamus, you haven’t!

DR REID. of course not, Flora.

FLORA. Then …?

DR REID. It is just possible that Pearl is exhibiting early signs of a psychosomatic ailment.

FLORA…. How did she catch it?

DR REID. Dear Flora. There is every reason to hope that Pearl’s symptoms will disappear once she is wed, and at last free from the shadow of her well-intentioned father. [Taking her hand.] I’m sorry if I was hard on you, old friend. I must be cruel to be kind.

FLORA. Seamus, how do you aim to keep your promise?

DR REID. What promise?

FLORA. You said you’d show her where you got the ear.

DR REID. Pearl can be made to know what, without having to know who.

DR REID exits . FLORA peers at the painting. Sniffs the air. Exits . VICTOR rolls over. The scene changes around him. Walls dissolve. Sound of the sea, a woman singing “Au Claire de La Lune” . THE BRIDE appears. She is pregnant. They don’t speak, but we hear their voices as ambient sound .

THE BRIDE. Look what I found at the top of the Caucasian steps.

VICTOR. Aonaibh ri cheile.

THE BRIDE. I would, but it’s too blurry.

Sound of a woman crying. The full moon rises . THE BRIDE turns her head and lifts her veil to reveal a Jackal ear . PUPPY whimpers from off. The silhouette of THE JACKAL appears in the family portrait, accompanied by the drone of a bagpipe .

Scene 6 The Drawing Room

Next morning . PEARL lies, dishevelled on the couch, a cold cloth on her forehead . VICTOR enters, pristine and jaunty, in travelling clothes .

VICTOR. Well, I’m off. Goodbye, Pearl.

PEARL. Victor — [moving to sit up, but finding it advisable not to] .

VICTOR. You look like you’re about to upthrow, shall I fetch a bucket?

PEARL. Don’t you dare go off down to the pub again, you’re terribly ill. Tell Wee Farleigh to bring me a basket of brioches. And a pickled egg.

VICTOR. Don’t worry, Pearl, I’m not off down the pub, I’m just off. I’m leaving. [calling off] Wee Far –

PEARL. Shush — wait — what? Why?

VICTOR. I’ve a good deal of work that needs avoiding. I may even begin not-writing my novel.

PEARL. You can do that here. We’ll make you a garret as drafty and uncomfortable as you like.

VICTOR. My mind’s made up.

PEARL. You’re not planning to leap into the sea, Victor, promise me –

VICTOR [jovial] . I’m not deep enough for despair, Pearl, the most I can muster is a cheerful self-loathing. I promise to kill myself very, very slowly.

PEARL. You’ll need money, if you wait a few weeks I’ll be able to –

VICTOR. Thanks, but I’m a boyishly handsome, shite-talking Scotsman with a well-endowed mythopoetical faculty. A mirror for the folly of others, a delightful extra man at table. There’s always men willing to stand me drinks, and women … well I’m no’ proud of it.

PEARL. What about your phobia? What if you run into a dog?

VICTOR. I’m not convinced it’s the dogs, Pearl. I think I’m allergic to this house. [Sniffs, will he sneeze?] So I’ll take me chances. Besides, all the best artists have fits. If I can’t have the talent, at least I’ll have the temperament.

PEARL. Where will you go?

VICTOR. Australia? Canada? A lot of worthless young men do quite well out there.

PEARL [fierce] . Victor, this is my house and I damn well give you half. Don’t go.

VICTOR. I love you, Pearl. [a beat] Good luck with the natural history. And the unnatural history. Thank you for the puppy. Sorry about the ear.

PEARL. So it was you.

VICTOR. It wasn’t, but I’m willing to sign a blank cheque of apology.

PEARL. Well if it wasn’t you, then who —?

DR REID enters, carrying a bouquet of red flowers .

DR REID. Good morning, Pearl, good morning Victor.

VICTOR [congenial] . Good morning, Dr Jekyll.

PEARL sits up, attempting to straighten her hair .

DR REID. Don’t get up, my dear.

PEARL. I must look a fright.

DR REID. You look lovely.

VICTOR. She looks like a dog’s breakfast.

DR REID. Did you take the powders this morning as I prescribed?

VICTOR. I sold them to an itinerant drug fiend.

DR REID. How’s the nausea?

PEARL. The nausea’s fine, excellent.

DR REID. Good. No … cravings?

PEARL. None.

VICTOR. Shall I fetch a haggis with the brioches?

DR REID [handing her the bouquet] . These are for you.

PEARL. Oh, Dr Reid, they’re lovely.

VICTOR. They’re poppies.

DR REID. From my own garden.

FLORA enters with a cup of herbal tea for PEARL.

FLORA. This brew always restored your mother when she was — [sees the others] .

VICTOR. Auntie, farewell.

FLORA. You’re never leaving us?

VICTOR. Duty calls, I’ve taken a commission in the Queen’s Own Rifles.

DR REID. You have?

VICTOR. I’ve done no such thing.

PEARL fends off nausea .

FLORA. What is it, Pearl? Do you smell something? Is it the painting again?

VICTOR sniffs the painting .

PEARL. I’m perfectly well, if a tad forfochen; that woman kept me up half the nicht. Night.