Caligula, Albert Camus

Contents
Caligula
Characters in the Play
Act I
Act II
Act III
Act IV

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS

To my friends of the THÉÂTRE DE L’ÉQUIPE

CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY

CALIGULA
CÆSONIA
HELICON
SCIPIO
CHEREA
THE OLD PATRICIAN
METELLUS
LEPIDUS
INTENDANT
MEREIA
MUCIUS
MUCIUS’ WIFE
PATRICIANS, KNIGHTS,
POETS, GUARDS, SERVANTS

CALIGULA was presented for the first time at the THÉÂTRE-HÉBERTOT, Paris, in 1945.

ACT I

A number of patricians, one a very old man, are gathered in a state room of the imperial palace. They are showing signs of nervousness.

FIRST PATRICIAN: Still no news.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: None last night, none this morning.
SECOND PATRICIAN: Three days without news. Strange indeed!
THE OLD PATRICIAN: Our messengers go out, our messengers return. And always they shake their heads and say: “Nothing.”
SECOND PATRICIAN: They’ve combed the whole countryside. What more can be done?
FIRST PATRICIAN: We can only wait. It’s no use meeting trouble halfway. Perhaps he’ll return as abruptly as he left us.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: When I saw him leaving the palace, I noticed a queer look in his eyes.
FIRST PATRICIAN: Yes, so did I. In fact I asked him what was amiss.

SECOND PATRICIAN: Did he answer?
FIRST PATRICIAN: One word: “Nothing.”
[A short silence. HELICON enters. He is munching onions.]
SECOND PATRICIAN [in the same nervous tone]: It’s all very perturbing.
FIRST PATRICIAN: Oh, come now! All young fellows are like that.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: You’re right there. They take things hard. But time smooths everything out.
SECOND PATRICIAN: Do you really think so?

THE OLD PATRICIAN: Of course. For one girl dead, a dozen living ones.
HELICON: Ah? So you think that there’s a girl behind it?
FIRST PATRICIAN: What else should there be? Anyhow—thank goodness!—grief never lasts forever. Is any one of us here capable of mourning a loss for more than a year on end?
SECOND PATRICIAN: Not I, anyhow.
FIRST PATRICIAN: No one can do that.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: Life would be intolerable if one could.

FIRST PATRICIAN: Quite so. Take my case. I lost my wife last year. I shed many tears, and then I forgot. Even now I feel a pang of grief at times. But, happily, it doesn’t amount to much.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: Yes, Nature’s a great healer.
[CHEREA enters.]
FIRST PATRICIAN: Well …?
CHEREA: Still nothing.
HELICON: Come, gentlemen! There’s no need for consternation.
FIRST PATRICIAN: I agree.

HELICON: Worrying won’t mend matters—and it’s lunchtime.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: That’s so. We mustn’t drop the prey for the shadow.
CHEREA: I don’t like the look of things. But all was going too smoothly. As an emperor, he was perfection’s self.
SECOND PATRICIAN: Yes, exactly the emperor we wanted; conscientious and inexperienced.

FIRST PATRICIAN: But what’s come over you? There’s no reason for all these lamentations. We’ve no ground for assuming he will change. Let’s say he loved Drusilla. Only natural; she was his sister. Or say his love for her was something more than brotherly; shocking enough, I grant you. But it’s really going too far, setting all Rome in a turmoil because the girl has died.
CHEREA: Maybe. But, as I said, I don’t like the look of things; this escapade alarms me.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: Yes, there’s never smoke without fire.
FIRST PATRICIAN: In any case, the interests of the State should prevent his making a public tragedy of … of, let’s say, a regrettable attachment. No doubt such things happen; but the less said the better.

HELICON: How can you be sure Drusilla is the cause of all this trouble?
SECOND PATRICIAN: Who else should it be?
HELICON: Nobody at all, quite likely. When there’s a host of explanations to choose from, why pick on the stupidest, most obvious one?
[Young SCIPIO enters. CHEREA goes toward him.]

CHEREA: Well?
SCIPIO: Still nothing. Except that some peasants think they saw him last night not far from Rome, rushing through the storm.
[CHEREA comes back to the patricians, SCIPIO following him.]
CHEREA: That makes three days, Scipio, doesn’t it?
SCIPIO: Yes … I was there, following him as I usually do. He went up to Drusilla’s body. He stroked it with two fingers, and seemed lost in thought for a long while. Then he swung round and walked out, calmly enough.… And ever since we’ve been hunting for him—in vain.
CHEREA [shaking his head]: That young man was too fond of literature.
SECOND PATRICIAN: Oh, at his age, you know …

CHEREA: At his age, perhaps; but not in his position. An artistic emperor is an anomaly. I grant you we’ve had one or two; misfits happen in the best of empires. But the others had the good taste to remember they were public servants.
FIRST PATRICIAN: It made things run more smoothly.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: One man, one job—that’s how it should be.
SCIPIO: What can we do, Cherea?
CHEREA: Nothing.

SECOND PATRICIAN: We can only wait. If he doesn’t return, a successor will have to be found. Between ourselves—there’s no shortage of candidates.
FIRST PATRICIAN: No, but there’s a shortage of the right sort.
CHEREA: Suppose he comes back in an ugly mood?
FIRST PATRICIAN: Oh, he’s a mere boy; we’ll make him see reason.
CHEREA: And what if he declines to see it?
FIRST PATRICIAN [laughing]: In that case, my friend, don’t forget I once wrote a manual of revolutions. You’ll find all the rules there.
CHEREA: I’ll look it up—if things come to that. But I’d rather be left to my books.
SCIPIO: If you’ll excuse me.…
[Goes out.]

CHEREA: He’s offended.
THE OLD PATRICIAN: Scipio is young, and young people always hang together.
HELICON: Scipio doesn’t count, anyhow.
[Enter a member of the imperial bodyguard.]
THE GUARDSMAN: Caligula has been seen in the palace gardens.

[All leave the room. The stage is empty for some moments. Then CALIGULA enters stealthily from the left. His legs are caked with mud, his garments dirty; his hair is wet, his look distraught. He brings his hand to his mouth several times. Then he approaches a mirror, stopping abruptly when he catches sight of his reflected self. After muttering some unintelligible words, he sits down on the right, letting his arms hang limp between his knees. HELICON enters, left. On seeing CALIGULA, he stops at the far end of the stage and contemplates him in silence. CALIGULA turns and sees him. A short silence.]

HELICON [across the stage]: Good morning, Caius.
CALIGULA [in quite an ordinary tone]: Good morning, Helicon.
[A short silence.]

HELICON: You’re looking tired.
CALIGULA: I’ve walked a lot.
HELICON: Yes, you’ve been away for quite a while.
[Another short silence.]
CALIGULA: It was hard to find.
HELICON: What was hard to find?
CALIGULA: What I was after.
HELICON: Meaning?
CALIGULA [in the same matter-of-fact tone]: The moon.
HELICON: What?

CALIGULA: Yes, I wanted the moon.
HELICON: Ah.… [Another silence. HELICON approaches CALIGULA.] And why did you want it?
CALIGULA: Well … it’s one of the things I haven’t got.
HELICON: I see. And now—have you fixed it up to your satisfaction?
CALIGULA: No. I couldn’t get it.
HELICON: Too bad!
CALIGULA: Yes, and that’s why I’m tired. [Pauses. Then] Helicon!
HELICON: Yes, Caius?

CALIGULA: No doubt, you think I’m crazy.
HELICON: As you know well, I never think.
CALIGULA: Ah, yes.… Now, listen! I’m not mad; in fact I’ve never felt so lucid. What happened to me is quite simple; I suddenly felt a desire for the impossible. That’s all. [Pauses.] Things as they are, in my opinion, are far from satisfactory.
HELICON: Many people share your opinion.

CALIGULA: That is so. But in the past I didn’t realize it. Now I know. [Still in the same matter-of-fact tone] Really, this world of ours, the scheme of things as they call it, is quite intolerable. That’s why I want the moon, or happiness, or eternal life—something, in fact, that may sound crazy, but which isn’t of this world.
HELICON: That’s sound enough in theory. Only, in practice one can’t carry it through to its conclusion.

CALIGULA [rising to his feet, but still with perfect calmness]: You’re wrong there. It’s just because no one dares to follow up his ideas to the end that nothing is achieved. All that’s needed, I should say, is to be logical right through, at all costs. [He studies HELICON’S face.] I can see, too, what you’re thinking. What a fuss over a woman’s death! But that’s not it. True enough, I seem to remember that a woman died some days ago; a woman whom I loved. But love, what is it? A side issue. And I swear to you her death is not the point; it’s no more than the symbol of a truth that makes the moon essential to me. A childishly simple, obvious, almost silly truth, but one that’s hard to come by and heavy to endure.
HELICON: May I know what it is, this truth that you’ve discovered?

CALIGULA [his eyes averted, in a toneless voice]: Men die; and they are not happy.
HELICON [after a short pause]: Anyhow, Caligula, it’s a truth with which one comes to terms, without much trouble. Only look at the people over there. This truth of yours doesn’t prevent them from enjoying their meal.

CALIGULA [wth sudden violence]: All it proves is that I’m surrounded by lies and self-deception. But I’ve had enough of that; I wish men to live by the light of truth. And I’ve the power to make them do so. For I know what they need and haven’t got. They’re without understanding and they need a teacher; someone who knows what he’s talking about.
HELICON: Don’t take offense, Caius, if I give you a word of advice.… But that can wait. First, you should have some rest.
CALIGULA [sitting down. His voice is gentle again]: That’s not possible, Helicon. I shall never rest again.
HELICON: But—why?

CALIGULA: If I sleep, who’ll give me the moon?
HELICON [after a short silence]: That’s true.
CALIGULA [rising to his feet again, with an effort]: Listen, Helicon … I hear footsteps, voices. Say nothing—and forget you’ve seen me.
HELICON: I understand.

CALIGULA [looking back, as he moves toward the door]: And please help me, from now on.
HELICON: I’ve no reason not to do so, Caius. But I know