MARIA Jan, I just can’t believe that they failed to recognise you when you came here just now. A mother always knows her son.
JAN But she hasn’t seen me for twenty years. And anyway, I was very young then, hardly more than a boy. She’s an old woman. Her sight is not too good. Why, I hardly knew her myself.
MARIA (impatiently) Oh, yes, I’ve heard all that. You came in, you said ‘good-morning’, and sat down. Nothing was the same.
JAN I don’t know. It was just that nothing seemed to be how I remembered it. They took me for granted. Not a word was spoken. The beer came to order. They looked, and I looked, but they looked right through me. It was all a lot more difficult than I had imagined.
MARIA You know perfectly well that it wasn’t difficult at all. All you had to do was to open your mouth. On such occasions, any normal person says «Here I am, it’s me!» and everything falls into place. Reality asserts itself.
JAN Yes, yes, I know. But all sorts of things were flooding through my mind. I’d expected some sort of welcome -you know, the return of the prodigal son, killing the fatted calf, and so on -and there I was, taking a glass of beer for money. I felt moved by it all, but couldn’t find a thing to say.
MARIA One word would have been enough.
JAN But I couldn’t find the right one! And anyway, what’s the hurry? I came here with money in my pockets, and if I can I want to make them happy. When I heard that father was dead, I realised that I was now in some respects responsible for both of them. Knowing that, I did what I had to do. But perhaps coming home isn’t quite as easy as it sounds. It takes a bit of time to make a son out of just another man.
MARIA But why not tell them you were coming? There’s a case to be made for conventional behaviour, at certain times. If you wanted to be recognised you couldn’t have done better than to introduce yourself. That, I would have thought, was obvious. If you start out pretending to be something you’re not you’ll end up in a mess. How on earth can you expect to receive more of a welcome than any passing stranger when you act just like one? In your own home ~ No, I’m sorry, but none of this makes sense.
JAN Come on, Maria, it doesn’t matter that much. Besides, it all suits my purpose. I’ll take advantage of the delay, see them, as it were, a little from the outside. If I play my cards right I’ll have a much stronger sense of what they really need to make them happy. And after that… well, I’ll find some way to make myself known. It is, after all, only a matter of finding the right words.
MARIA You’ll find some way… ? There is only one way that I can think of, and that’s to do what you should have done the moment you stepped through the door. To say «Here I am» and let your heart speak for you.
JAN Yes. I know. But when the heart really is involved, it isn’t that simple.
MARIA That’s where you’re wrong. Words that come from the heart are always simple. It couldn’t have been that difficult to stand up and say «I am your son. This is my wife. Up until now we’ve been living together in a land that we both loved, in the sunshine, by the sea. But I needed something else to make me truly happy. In fact, I needed you. So here I am.»
JAN Don’t be unkind, Maria. That’s not fair. It wasn’t that I needed them. I just knew without asking that they must be in need of me, and that a man should never let himself believe that he stands completely on his own. In this world or the next.
(Pause. Maria turns away.)
MARIA I’m sorry. Perhaps you’re right. But I’ve felt myself on the defensive ever since we arrived. I’ve searched in every passing face for some faint signs, the slightest suggestion that people were happy. And all to no purpose. This Europe of yours is a miserable place. Come to that, I haven’t heard you laugh since we stepped ashore, and as for myself …there’s something I don’t like. I feel… apprehensive. Oh, Jan, why did you bring me here? I wish I’d never left. Come back with me, Jan. There’s nothing for us here, nothing that will make us happy.
JAN We didn’t come here to look for happiness. We had that already.
MARIA (with passion) Then why not enjoy it! Wasn’t that enough for you?
JAN No. Happiness isn’t everything. Men have their obligations, too. Mine was to find my mother, and my country. To be where I belong again…
(Maria is about to protest but Jan stops her, as footsteps can be plainly heard. Outside, the Old Man walks past the window.) JAN Someone’s coming. Leave me, Maria. Please go.
MARIA Not like this. I can’t.
JAN (as the footsteps come closer) Quickly, over there. (He pushes her behind the door.)
Scene four
(The door at the back opens. The Old Man walks across the room without noticing Maria and leaves by the door to the outside.) JAN And now you must go. Quickly, while I still have the chance. MARIA I want to stay. I’ll wait here, by your side. I won’t say a word, I promise. Not until they’ve found out who you are.
JAN No. You’ll give me away. I know it.
(She turns away, and then comes back to him. They stand face to face.)
MARIA Jan. It’s five years since we were married. JAN It will be. Soon.
MARIA (lowering her eyes) And this will be the first night that we’ve slept apart. (Jan remains silent. She looks up at him again.) I have always loved everything about you. Even what I didn’t understand. And I have always known that, at heart, I would have you no different. I’m not the kind of wife who likes to be awkward, but today I’m frightened, Jan! I can see that empty bed in front of me, and I feel as though you’re deserting me, sending me away like this.
JAN Maria! How can you doubt my love?
MARIA I don’t, I don’t! It’s not that. But your love is one thing, and your dreams are another. Or your obligations, as you would say. It doesn’t matter. It comes to the same thing. You’ve
drifted away so many times. It’s as if you grew tired of me from time to time, and were in need of a rest. But there’s never any rest for me. I’m never tired of you, and the thought
of this evening (she throws herself against him in tears)… is more than I can bear!
JAN (holding her tightly) This is all very childish.
MARIA I know ~ I am very childish ~ But we were so happy together before we came here, and how can I help it if the nights in this country make me feel nervous? It’s all so different. I don’t want to be left on my own. Not here, not without you.
JAN But I shan’t be away for long. You must understand, Maria. I have to keep my promise.
MARIA Your promise?
JAN Yes. My promise to myself. I made it on the day when I learned that my mother had need of me.
MARIA There’s another one to keep. JAN What do you mean?
MARIA The one you made to me on the day you said that you would live with me.
JAN But there’s no conflict between them. I’ll take care of everything. I’ m not asking much. Am I? Really? And I’m not doing this for fun. All it means is one evening and one night apart. In that short time I can find my feet here, get to know them better, and find out how to make them happy.
MARIA (shaking her head) It’s much more than that. Any separation is something to be feared when two people are really in love with each other.
JAN Now that is cruel. You know I love you as much as anyone could.
MARIA No. Only as much as any man could. But men don’t know how to love. Nothing is enough for them. They must have their dreams. It’s the only thing they do well. Dreaming. They dream up obligations. New ones every day. They long for undiscovered countries, fresh demands, another call. While we women are left with the knowledge that love can never wait. A shared bed, a hand in yours, that’s the only thing that matters. The worst thing of all is fear. The fear of being alone. Love can never wait. There’s no time for dreams, if you’re in love. JAN Now what prompted all of that? All I’m asking for is the chance to find my own mother and to give her the help she needs with a little happiness thrown in. If that’s what you mean by dreams and obligations, then I can only say that you’ll have to take them as they are. I’d be nothing without them, and you wouldn’t love me if I didn’t have them.
MARIA (turning her back on him sharply) I know you have your reasons. You always do. And they’re always so very, very good. So good, that I’m not listening any more. I’m deaf. I can’t listen
