valentine: It's not a disaster.
Bernard: Of course it's a disaster! I was on 'The Breakfast Hour'!
valentine: It doesn't mean Byron didn't fight a duel, it only means Chater wasn't killed in it.
BERNARD: Oh, pull yourself together! - do you think I'd have been on 'The Breakfast Hour' if Byron had missedl
hannah: Calm down, Bernard. Valentine's right.
BERNARD: (Grasping at straws) Do you think so? You mean the Piccadilly reviews? Yes, two completely unknown Byron essays - and my discovery of the lines he added to 'English Bards'. That counts for something.
hannah: (Tactfully) Very possible - persuasive, indeed.
Bernard: Oh, bugger persuasive! I've proved Byron was here and as far as I'm concerned he wrote those lines as sure as he shot that hare. If only I hadn't somehow . . . made it all
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about killing Chater. Why didn't you stop me?! It's bound to
get out, you know -1 mean this - this gloss on my discovery -
I mean how long do you think it'll be before some botanical
pedant blows the whistle on me? HANNAH: The day after tomorrow. A letter in The Times, Bernard: You wouldn't. HANNAH: It's a dirty job but somebody -Bernard: Darling. Sorry. Hannah-hannah: - and, after all, it is my discovery. Bernard: Hannah. hannah: Bernard. Bernard: Hannah. hannah: Oh, shut up. It'll be very short, very dry, absolutely
gloat-free. Would you rather it were one of your friends? Bernard: (Fervently) Oh God, no! hannah: And then inyour letter to The Times-Bernard: Mine? hannah: Well, of course. Dignified congratulations to a
colleague, in the language of scholars, I trust. Bernard: Oh, eat shit, you mean? hannah: Think of it as a breakthrough in dahlia studies.
(CHLOfi hurries in from the garden.) chloE: Why aren't you coming?! - Bernard! And you're not
dressed! How long have you been back?
(Bernard looks at her and then at valentine and realizes for
the first time that valentine is unusually dressed.) Bernard: Why are you wearing those clothes? chloE: Do be quick!
(She is already digging into the basket and producing odd
garments for BERNARD.)
Just put anything on. We're all being photographed. Except
Hannah. hannah: I'll come and watch.
(valentine and chloE help Bernard into a decorative coat
and fix a lace collar round his neck.) chloE: (To hannah) Mummy says have you got the theodolite? valentine: What are you supposed to be, Chlo? Bo-Peep? chloE: Jane Austen!
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valentine: Of course.
HANNAH: {To CHLOfi) Oh - it's in the hermitage! Sorry. Bernard: I thought it wasn't till this evening. What photograph? chloE: The local paper of course - they always come before we
start. We want a good crowd of us - Gus looks gorgeous -Bernard: {Aghast) The newspaper!
{He grabs something like a bishop's mitre from the basket and
pulls it down completely over his face.
(Muffled) I'm ready!
{And he staggers out with valentine and chloE, followed by
HANNAH.
A light change to evening. The paper lanterns outside begin to glow. Piano music from the next room.
SEPTIMUS enters with an oil lamp. He carries Thomasina}s
algebra primer, and also her essay on loose sheen. He settles
down to read at the table. It is nearly dark outside, despite the
lanterns.
THOMASINA enters, in a nightgown and barefoot, holding a
candlestick. Her manner is secretive and excited.) Septimus: My lady! What is it? thomasina: Septimus! Shush!
{She closes the door quietly.)
Now is our chance! Septimus: For what, dear God?
{She blows out the candle and puts the candlestick on the table.) thomasina: Do not act the innocent! Tomorrow I will be
seventeen!
{She kisses septimus/h// on the mouth.)
There! Septimus: Dear Christ!
thomasina: Now you must show me, you are paid in advance. SEPTIMUS: {Understanding) Oh! thomasina: The Count plays for us, it is God-given! I cannot be
seventeen and not waltz. Septimus: But your mother -thomasina: While she swoons, we can dance. The house is all
abed. I heard the Broadwood. Oh, Septimus, teach me now!
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Septimus: Hush! I cannot now!
thomasina: Indeed you can, and I am come barefoot so mind
my toes. Septimus: I cannot because it is not a waltz. thomasina: It is not? Septimus: No, it is too slow for waltzing. thomasina: Oh! Then we will wait for him to play quickly. Septimus: My lady -thomasina: Mr Hodge!
(She takes a chair next to him and looks at his work.)
Are you reading my essay? Why do you work here so late? Septimus: To save my candles. thomasina: You have my old primer. Septimus: It is mine again. You should not have written in it.
(She takes it, looks at the open page.) thomasina: It was a joke. Septimus: It will make me mad as you promised. Sit over there.
You will have us in disgrace.
(thomasina gets up and goes to the furthest chair.) thomasina: If mama comes I will tell her we only met to kiss,
not to waltz. Septimus: Silence or bed. thomasina: Silence!
(SEPTIMUS pours himself some more wine. He continues to read
her essay.
The music changes to party music from the marquee. And there
are fireworks - small against the sky, distant flares of light like
exploding meteors.
Hannah enters. She has dressed for the party. The difference is not, however, dramatic. She closes the door and crosses to leave by the garden door. But as she gets there, valentine is entering. He has a glass of wine in his hand.)
HANNAH: Oh . . .
(But valentine merely brushes past her, intent on something,
and half-drunk.) valentine: (To her) Got it!
(He goes straight to the table and roots about in what is now a
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considerable mess of papers, books and objects. HANNAH turns back, puzzled by his manner. He finds what he has been looking for - the 'diagram'.
Meanwhile, Septimus reading Thomasina's essay, also studies
the diagram.
SEPTIMUS and valentine study the diagram doubled by
time.) valentine: It's heat. hannah: Are you tight, Val? valentine: It's a diagram of heat exchange. Septimus: So, we are all doomed! thomasina: (Cheerfully) Yes. valentine: Like a steam engine, you see -
(HANNAH fills Septimus's glass from the same decanter, and sips
from it.)
She didn't have the maths, not remotely. She saw what
things meant, way ahead, like seeing a picture. Septimus: This is not science. This is story-telling. thomasina: Is it a waltz now? Septimus: No.
(The music is still modern.) valentine: Like a film. hannah: What did she see? valentine: That you can't run the film backwards. Heat was
the first thing which didn't work that way. Not like Newton.
A film of a pendulum, or a ball falling through the air -
backwards, it looks the same. hannah: The ball would be going the wrong way. valentine: You'd have to know that. But with heat - friction - a
ball breaking a window -hannah: Yes.
valentine: It won't work backwards. hannah: Who thought it did? valentine: She saw why. You can put back the bits of glass but
you can't collect up the heat of the smash. It's gone. Septimus: So the Improved Newtonian Universe must cease and
grow cold. Dear me.
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valentine: The heat goes into the mix.
(He gestures to indicate the air in the room, in the universe.) thomasina: Yes, we must hurry if we are going to dance. valentine: And everything is mixing the same way, all the time,
irreversibly. . . Septimus: Oh, we have time, I think.
valentine: . . . till there's no time left. That's what time means. Septimus: When we have found all the mysteries and lost all the
meaning, we will be alone, on an empty shore. thomasina: Then we will dance. Is this a waltz? Septimus: It will serve.