Jumpers (12 page)

ARCHIE
(
coming forward
): Mr. Crouch!

CROUCH
: Oh, good morning, Vice-Chancellor, sir…
(
The situation:
CROUCH
and
ARCHIE
conversing out of the
Study into the Hall
.
GEORGE
worrying his script. The
SECRETARY
still the observer with pencil and pad ready. Once in the Hall
,
ARCHIE
shuts the Study door
.)

ARCHIE
: I see you're something of a philosopher, Mr. Crouch.

CROUCH
: Oh, I wouldn't call it that, sir—I just picked up a bit
… a bit of reading, a bit of chatting, you know.

ARCHIE
: Isn't that the academic life? Whom would you describe as your mentor?

CROUCH
: It was the late Professor McFee.

ARCHIE
: Really?

CROUCH
: Yes, sir, it was a terrible thing, his death. Of course, his whole life was going through a crisis, as he no doubt told you.

ARCHIE
: Yes…?

CROUCH
: It was the astronauts fighting on the Moon that finally turned him, sir. Henry, he said to me, Henry, I am giving philosophical respectability to a new
pragmatism in public life, of which there have been many disturbing examples both here and on the moon. Duncan, I said, Duncan, don't let it get you down, have another can of beer. But he kept harking back to the first Captain Oates, out there in the Antarctic wastes, sacrificing his life to give his companions a slim chance of survival…. Henry, he said, what made him do it?—out of the tent and into the jaws of the blizzard. If altruism is a possibility, he said, my argument is up a gum-tree…. Duncan, I said, Duncan, don't you worry your head about all that. That astronaut yobbo is good for twenty years hard. Yes, he said, yes
maybe
, but when he comes out, he's going to find he was only twenty years ahead of his time. I have seen the future, Henry, he said; and it's yellow.

ARCHIE
(
pause
): You must have been a close friend of his.
(
From now on, for the following speeches, the
SECRETARY
is the only person moving on stage. She gets up. She is going to go for lunch. Perhaps a clock has struck. She comes down stage to make use of the imaginary mirror
… a
grim, tense, unsmiling young woman, staring at the audience
.)

CROUCH
: Ah, well, he'd come by to pick up his girl.

ARCHIE
: His girl?

CROUCH
: And he was always a bit early and as often as not
Professor Moore kept her working a bit late.

ARCHIE
: Professor Moore?

CROUCH
: So he'd pass the time with me… I shall miss our little talks. And of course it's tragic for her. I see she's carrying on, losing herself in her work; it's the only way… but after three years of secret betrothal, it takes a certain kind of girl.

ARCHIE
: Yes. Why secret?

CROUCH
: He made her keep it secret because of his wife.

ARCHIE
: Ah. His wife didn't know, of course.

CROUCH
: His wife knew about
her
, but
she
didn't know about his wife. He was
terrified
to tell her, poor Duncan. Well, he won't be coming round here any more. Not that he would have done anyway, of course.

ARCHIE
: Why's that?

CROUCH
: Well obviously, he had to make a clean breast and tell her it was all off—I mean with him going into the monastery.

ARCHIE
: Quite.

CROUCH
: And now he's dead.
(
SECRETARY
snaps her handbag shut with a sharp sound and takes her coat out of the cupboard
.)

ARCHIE
: A severe blow to Logic, Mr. Crouch.

CROUCH
(
nodding
): It makes no sense to me at all. What do you make of it, sir?

ARCHIE
: The truth to us philosophers, Mr. Crouch, is always an interim judgment. We will never even know for certain who did shoot McFee. Unlike mystery novels, life does not guarantee a denouement; and if it came, how would one know whether to believe it?
(
ARCHIE
and
CROUCH
move out through the Front Door. The
SECRETARY
is also leaving, now wearing her (white) coat
—
which has a bright splash of blood on its back
.
GEORGE
sees the blood as she leaves the Study, and the flat.
In the unseen Bedroom,
DOTTY
's record of
‘Forget Yesterday'
starts to play
.
GEORGE
realizes that the blood must have come from the top of the cupboard, i.e. wardrobe. He needs to stand on his desk or chair. He puts Pat, whom he had been holding, down now and climbs up to look into the top of the cupboard; and withdraws from the unseen depths his mis-fired arrow, on which is impaled Thumper. The music still continues. Holding Thumper up by the arrow
,
GEORGE
puts his face against the fur. A single sob. He steps backwards, down…
CRRRRRUNCH!!!
He has stepped, fatally, on Pat. With one foot on the desk and one foot on Pat
,
GEORGE
looks down, and then puts up his head and cries out
, ‘Dotty! Help! Murder!'
GEORGE
falls to the floor. The song continues. The process which originally brought the set into view now goes into reverse. His last sobs are amplified and repeated right into the beginning of the Coda
.)

END OF ACT TWO

(
The Symposium
—
in bizarre dream form
,
CROUCH
is the
Chairman
,
ARCHIE
stands to one side
.
THREE USHERS (JUMPERS
)
sit in front of
CROUCH
's
raised platform. They wear yellow gowns.
Stained glass slides are in at the beginning and stay in. The sobs subside
.
GEORGE
lies still
.)

CROUCH
: Well, gentlemen, that's approximately two minutes of approximate silence. I think we might proceed with our opening statements—‘Man—good, bad or indifferent?'—Sir Archibald.

USHER
: Call Sir Archibald Jumper!

ECHO
: Call Sir Archibald Jumper.
(
GEORGE
remains prone. Enormous applause, unrealistically cut off, for
ARCHIE
.)

ARCHIE
: Mr. Crouch, ladies and gentlemen. ‘Man—good, bad or indifferent?' Indeed, if moon mad herd instinct, is God dad the inference?—to take another point: If goons in mood, by Gad is sin different or banned good, f'r'instance?—thirdly: out of the ether, random nucleic acid testes or neither universa vice, to name but one—fourthly: If the necessary being isn't, surely mother of invention as Voltaire said, not to mention Darwin different from the origin of the specious—to sum up: Super, both natural and stitious, sexual ergo cogito er go-go sometimes, as Descartes said, and who are we? Thank you. (
Shattering applause.
The
USHERS
hold up score cards:
‘
9.7'—‘9.9'—‘9.8'
.)

ARCHIE
: Call the Archbishop of Canterbury.
(
The cry is taken up by other voices. There is music for the
ARCHBISHOP
's
entrance. He enters, dressed as for a coronation, attended by two yellow-garbed chaplains
(
JUMPERS
)
who
position themselves downstage, facing the audience
.
GEORGE
gets to his feet and looks at
CLEGTHORPE
,
who ‘blesses' him
.)

USHER
(
to Archbishop
): Take the book in your right hand and read what is on the card.

ARCHBISHOP
: Nine.

ARCHIE
: My lord, it might save the court's time if I were to explain now that his Grace has certain doubts about the existence of God, and does not wish to take the oath, as a matter of conscience. You are Samuel Clegthorpe, Arch-bishop of Canterbury?

ARCHBISHOP
: For my sins.

CROUCH
: What does he mean by that?

ARCHIE
: I think he was hoping for a Cabinet post, my lord.
… Your Grace, we are gathered together to dispute the goodness, badness or indifference of man. As the senior cleric of the Church of England, you have no doubt thought deeply about this.

CLEGTHORPE
: Well, until recently, I have been mainly interested in the birds of the air and the beasts of the field—rooks, badgers, rabbits—and so on.

ARCHIE
: Quite. But I think you are aware that there is great uncertainty in the land. The ground shifts. The common people to look to you for guidance.

CLEGTHORPE
: Yes. My chaplains had to use tear gas to disperse them. In my opinion, the Government is going too fast. (
The
CHAPLAINS
turn to look at him
.)

ARCHIE
: Surely that is a matter best left to the Government?

CLEGTHORPE
: They were shouting ‘Give us the blood of the lamb.
Give us the bread of the body of Christ'——

ARCHIE
: That's hardly a rational demand.

CLEGTHORPE
: They won't go away!… Surely belief in man could find room for man's beliefs…? (
Behind him the
USHERS
stand up
.)

ARCHIE
: Archbishop, the cat has already jumped.
(
The
CHAPLAINS
back-flip into the middle of the stage
,
flanking
CLEGTHORPE
now; or cartwheels if back-flips are not
possible
.)
No further questions.

CLEGTHORPE
: Well, I'd just like to say—I don't like to see my flock weeping in my garden at Lambeth——

ARCHIE
(
sharply
): My Lord Archbishop, when I was last in
Lambeth I saw good strawberries in your garden—I do beseech you send for some.
(
USHERS
and
CHAPLAINS
take a step
.)

CLEGTHORPE
: Yes, all right, but you must appreciate my position—I mean now that I
am
Archbishop of Canterbury——

ARCHIE
:
Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest!
(
From each side of the stage, as though catapulted (from trampolines offstage) a
YELLOW JUMPER
leaps into the middle
of the stage, both
JUMPERS
landing together in front of
CLEGTHORPE
,
with the first bar of the introduction to
‘Sentimental Journey'.
The
SEVEN JUMPERS
(
i.e. two chaplains, three ushers and the latter two) are now one unit, using the music to choreograph the threat to
CLEGTHORPE
.
GEORGE
watches, moves hesitantly.
This is what happens now, and it ought not to take as long to happen as it does to describe it: The
JUMPERS
and the music
together keep the beat: The pattern of men changes and in six separate movements
CLEGTHORPE
is moved upstage until he is
standing on
CROUCH
'
s desk as part of a pyramid of
JUMPERS
.)

GEORGE
: Point of order, Mr. Chairman.

CLEGTHORPE
: Professor—it's not right. George—help.

CROUCH
: DO you have any questions for this witness, Professor?

GEORGE
: Er… no, I don't think so.

CROUCH
: Thank you.
(
The music goes louder
.)

GEORGE
: Well, this seems to be a political quarrel…. Surely only a proper respect for absolute values… universal truths—
philosophy——
(A gunshot. It stops the music, and knocks
CLEGTHORPE
out of
the pyramid, which disintegrates.
When everything is still:
)

ARCHIE
: Call Dotty Moore!
(
Everything comes vividly to life: loud music brings the
JUMPERS
to their feet. The Screen turns to a brilliant starry sky. The music is the introduction to
‘Sentimental Journey',
and
DOTTY
is to make her entrance on a spangled crescent
moon
…
with the
JUMPERS
as Dancers
.)

JUMPERS
(
sing
): Calling Dotty Moore, calling Dotty Moore, call
Dotty Moore.

DOTTY
(
sings
): Did I hear you call, will you tell me why?
Am I dreaming, is this really me?
Show me where to stand, and I'll tell you my Philosophy.

Here is my consistent proposition,
Two and two make roughly four—
Gentlemen, that is my position,
Yours sincerely, Dorothy Moore.

As for man, I got my reservations,
Going by experience
Some ain't bad and some are revelations,
Never met indifference.

Heaven, how can I believe in heaven?
Just a lying rhyme for seven!
Scored for violins on multi-track
That takes me back
To happy days when I knew how to make it
I knew how to hold a tune
Till the night they had to go and break it——