Hugo in London

by Marina J. Neary

Scene 16

conclusion

Greenland Dock in the morning. The two bodies are on the ground. Dr. Grant is sitting on one of the boxes, head lowered, squeezing the empty flask. Barclay is standing over him. Jocelyn is clinging to Hugo’s arm; he’s not looking at her. Brigit and Ingrid cling together, overcome by terror and grief. Officer Crippen and his men pace around nonchalantly.

CRIPPEN (to Ingrid and Brigit): Ah, quit shakin’ already, like you’ve ne’er seen a bloody corpse before! (To his men): So, lads, shall we dump ‘em in the river?

BARCLAY (unflinchingly): No, they’ll be given a proper burial behind St. Magdalen’s church.

CRIPPEN: Then you better call an undertaker. My men aren’t draggin’ ’em all the way to your church.

BARCLAY: Officer, have you no shame — bickering over corpses? Stop it at once!

CRIPPEN (defensively): Oh, is this an order?

BARCLAY: No — it’s an appeal to human decency, or at least human greed. I’ll pay your men out of my own pocket for their trouble.

The two Peelers silently put their hands out, and Barclay pours money. The gesture of charity energizes them instantly.

CRIPPEN (cheerfully): How ’bout that for pocket change? P’haps, we should invite the good Reverend to every burial. Now, get to work!

DR. GRANT (lifts his head): Not just yet.

CRIPPEN (to his men): Hold! Let the good Doctor speak. We’re in for a eulogy. P’haps, if yer act respectful, he too will tip yer.

DR. GRANT (stares before himself): For fifteen years I couldn’t reconcile with their presence, and now I can’t reconcile with their absence. All that’s left is the girl’s shawl and the boy’s waistcoat. It still smells like cigars. If the boy ever reaches heaven, he’ll be the patron saint of smokers. (He laughs, and his laughter turns into sobs)

JOCELYN (leaves Hugo and leans over Dr. Grant): Look at me. My offer still stands. Come to Westminster.

DR. GRANT (in a calmer voice): Thank you, my lady, but Westminster isn’t the place where I’m needed the most. I’m sailing to Crimea. I hear there’s a shortage of doctors.

JOCELYN: But you’re against this war!

DR. GRANT: I’m against many things in this world, my lady.

JOCELYN: But the conditions there are unbearable!

DR. GRANT: This is precisely why I must go there.

JOCELYN: Imagine operating on soldiers without anesthetics or even clean water. You’ll be given a dull saw and a pair of pliers.

DR. GRANT (tilts his head): Carpentry tools in skillful hands can do wonders.

JOCELYN (loses her patience): Ah, for God’s sake, you’re an old man! You won’t last a month there.

HUGO (steps in): Jocelyn, this isn’t the time to argue with Dr. Grant. Try to respect his wishes. His place is in Crimea, mine — at home in Guernsey, and yours — here in London. Please, let us part with dignity. (To Dr. Grant) Will you mind terribly if I follow you to the cemetery?

DR. GRANT: I’m not going to the cemetery. There’s a ship departing in half an hour. I’ve already said my farewells. But you may go and stand by the graveside all you want. I only ask of you that after my departure there be no squabbles, if only for one day.

He throws one glance at the bodies of his children and leaves.

HUGO (half-audibly): How odd... I’ve never seen my daughter’s corpse. And now that I behold her twin, I feel strange peace. Perhaps this was the very purpose of my trip. I came to England to bury my daughter, something I couldn’t do for ten years. At last, I can write again. She’ll be my deity, my muse — this slender, dark-haired girl.

JOCELYN (knees over Wynfield’s body): Where’s your sailor’s jacket? Ah, it’s all wrong. You shouldn’t be buried in this apparel. (Places a box of cigars in his pocket) I believe these are yours. You left them on the glass table. Surely, you’ll need them in your next life. A reminder of Southwark... Ponies & Lollipops, and such...

She stands up and breaks down weeping. Hugo and Barclay embrace her from both sides.

HUGO: There, duchess. Let there be no bad blood between us. We may never be friends, but let us not part as enemies. We are mates in sorrow, all of us.

BARCLAY (to Hugo): If I extend my hand to you, don’t feel obliged to shake it.

HUGO: Ah, Reverend, I’ll be the first one to extend my hand to you.

They shake hands; Jocelyn wipes her tears.

HUGO (recites in a low voice):

So gather, merry merchants,
And toilers of the sea!
Remember all your legends,
And bring them all to me.
I’ll make you all immortal
Before the century ends.
Look around you, it is England.
Old England, my friends!