Dubious Fame

Lawrence’s cottage, upper floor, living room, the whole play long the gramophone on a little table plays Edward Elgar’s 2nd symphony.
George Bernard Shaw is sitting on a simple, but comfortable looking sofa, watching Lawrence, who currently stands towards his bookshelf, then suddenly turns round, to Shaw.

LAWRENCE

I’m sorry. I must have lend it to a private out there in the camp. Surprisingly there is someone with an interest in classical books sometimes. Currently there are three. It won’t be easy to get it back.

SHAW

Never mind. In fact I already have five books of yours. I’ll give these back to you, then you’ll lend me your Cervantes, won’t you?

LAWRENCE

I will. D’you like to have a cup of tea?

SHAW

Thank you.

Lawrence goes back to the sofa. He wears his R.A.F.-clothes including the wide trousers. He fills a mug with some hot tea. Shaw watches him the whole time meanwhile Lawrence is totally focused on his current activity. He fills his own mug, then sits down, opposite Shaw.

SHAW

It’s very quiet out here.

LAWRENCE

Yes … it’s beautiful. I do need that.

SHAW

I know. But you just have hours out here every time. When do you have to go back?

LAWRENCE

Tomorrow, at midday.

SHAW

And till then it’s really quiet here, I mean, the whole time?

Lawrence takes a short look out of the window, with slight sadness in his tired eyes.

LAWRENCE

Not really, no.

SHAW

They come yet again?

LAWRENCE

Again and again. That’s why I’m glad to be in the camp from tomorrow midday.

SHAW

I see. But now it’s quiet. They’re not here.

LAWRENCE

Yes. Because of you.

SHAW

I do not understand …

LAWRENCE

slightly smiling

I left Boa down in the village and walked the way back. Maybe the people think I must have my dinner with the reverend.

SHAW

also smiling

All that because of me?

LAWRENCE

Certainly. You won’t be delighted very much watching these pilgrims running around my cottage like the Ka’ba in Mecca.

SHAW

And tomorrow you will arrive the camp walking?

LAWRENCE

Not at all. I’ll fetch Boa today evening when you’ve gone.

SHAW

But then I’m going right now. I wouldn’t like to be responsible for the fact that your free day gets lost to you.

LAWRENCE

You aren’t responsible for nothing in my life but just the good things. Your visit here is a pleasure to me. And it always will be. To talk with you is so different to the life at Bovington – I don’t want to miss that.

SHAW

But it costs you hours of arrangement for making it comfortable for me here, you know, quiet.

LAWRENCE

Not at all. You’re welcome.

SHAW

I think you could be happier if you’d be out of the service. Go to London or maybe Oxford. You have so much to give, but also to take. If you’d be together with people of your stand you’d be more satisfied.

LAWRENCE

I don’t deserve to be happy or satisfied.

SHAW

That’s nonsense, my friend, and you know it.

LAWRENCE

No, it’s true. I don’t want to be happy unless the men I have betrayed won’t be so. I couldn’t agree with my conscience to live in a fine London district, surrounded by servants and fine men who talk to me only after the mouth. I am responsible at the fact that the Arabs haven’t got what was entitled to them: their freedom. And I am as responsible at the fact that I am famous now, at their expense. You know, I always wanted to be famous. I add it point-blank: a part in me is assessed narcissistic, and I am ashamed for it. At a mindless moment my narcissism has risen to my mind when I have dedicated myself to this reporter voluntarily, for pictures and a story which should make him famous, but it has created only with me, because it feeds the mob on romantic images and a me-like that I am not, never was and never wanted to be. Now I try to avoid all that: this romantic me-like, the mob hungry for sensation and other stories which should be spread about me. I had believed that I could lay with wrong stories and false facts an armour around myself who protects me, instead of this it only shows me up. In addition, it properly asks to blow out every tiniest step of me to an absolutely abstruse headline. Maybe I should moved to India again. In any case, at the moment I could fancy nothing the nicer to get away as so far as possible from here. On the other side I love my cottage and the landscape here; this beautiful landscape which must be the nicest one of the world without meddlesome people who pursue me wherever I go. I fear that I must live the whole time of my remaining life in this conflict. Sometimes I hope that it stops, that they will leave me alone. Then I am only for myself for two days or so, and suddenly I miss the adjustments. I stand in the window and wait for the fact that a greedy pair of eyes wants to spot myself – when it’s missing, I swing myself on Boa, go especially slowly by the area that I strike. Sometimes I have the impression that I pretend before myself, so that the stories about me do not go too near for me. You know, I lay a certain distance between my breakable me and this imagination thing which everyone sees in me.

SHAW

But you know that you at one day could break upon it completely?

LAWRENCE

I know, but what else could I do? Live without my failure, knowing that I’ll never get the chance to correct it?

SHAW

Who knows? With your name, your knowledge and your connections you maybe will have someday.

LAWRENCE

No, I don’t want to go back to my earlier life. A higher position does also mean more money. And I don’t want to make any advantage of the fact that I have disappointed the people who entrusted me.

SHAW

But you wasn’t responsible. You’re just one human being …

LAWRENCE

… and I’d like to be one again.

Lawrence looks with his sad eyes at Shaw urgently. Shaw looks back understanding. He wants to touch Lawrence’s left shoulder reassuringly, his hand lifts quite easily. Then occurs to him that Lawrence can endure no touches and pulls the hand back. Hence, he only nods to him and tries to smile.


Finis.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 31.07.2009

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