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The River
Jez Butterworth
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- 64 páginas
- English
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eBook - ePub
The River
Jez Butterworth
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Información del libro
A bewitching play by Jez Butterworth, author of the global smash-hit Jerusalem. Premiered at the Royal Court Theatre in 2012.
On a moonless night in August when the sea trout are ready to run, a man brings his new girlfriend to the remote family cabin where he has come for the fly-fishing since he was a boy. But she's not the only woman he has brought here – or indeed the last...
'A delicately unfolding puzzle... all of it is wrapped in marvelous language... extraordinary.' The Times
'One of the best productions of the year... a magnetically eerie, luminously beautiful psychodrama.' Time Out
'Strange, eerie, tense... Butterworth possesses a singular talent.' Guardian
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Información
Darkness. The river.
Becomes…
… A cabin. Door off to bedroom at the back. Table. Chairs. Stove. Sink. Spiders. A WOMAN’s voice, singing, off.
WOMAN’S VOICE (singing).
I went out to a hazel wood
Because a fire was in my head
And cut and peeled a hazel wand
And hooked a berry to a thread…
Enter THE WOMAN, from the bedroom.
THE WOMAN (singing).
And when white moths were on the wing
And moth-like stars were flickering out
I dropped the berry in the stream
And caught a little silver trout…
She turns, and looks towards the window. Stops.
Here. (Calls.) Quick! Come here. Don’t miss this. Quickly.
Enter THE MAN, carrying assorted fly-fishing equipment.
THE MAN (to himself). Torch. Reel. Spare reel. Leader. Fly-box. Flies…
THE WOMAN. Quickly. You must see this.
THE MAN. Forceps. Scotch. Baccy. Gink. Priest. Where’s my priest?
THE WOMAN. You are missing the most incredible thing.
THE MAN. Where’s it gone? It was right here. Here in this drawer. Where’s it gone?
THE WOMAN. Just stop what you’re doing and come here now.
THE MAN. What?
THE WOMAN. Now. Right now. Come over here.
THE MAN. Oh. I’ve seen it.
Beat.
THE WOMAN. What?
THE MAN. I’ve seen it before.
THE WOMAN. It’s never happened before.
THE MAN. Yes it has.
THE WOMAN. No it hasn’t. Not like this.
THE MAN. Just like that. They’re all the same.
THE WOMAN. No two sunsets are the same.
THE MAN. Have you seen my priest?
THE WOMAN. Describe it.
THE MAN. It’s a small piece of ram’s horn with a leather handle, about yay big with –
THE WOMAN. Describe the sunset. If you’ve seen it before –
THE MAN. We don’t have time.
THE WOMAN. Before anything else happens. Before this relationship moves on one inch. Describe it. Describe my sunset.
They look at each other.
THE MAN (to himself). August. Low cloud. (Aloud.) Blood red as far as the headland turning to lilac-blue wisps above the bluff. Trails of apricot, feathering out through blue, dark blue, and aquamarine to an iris ring of obsidian and above that the Evening Star. (Finds it.) Yes! You little beauty. We’re all set.
Beat.
THE WOMAN. That was a magical moment. ‘That evening at the cabin. When they watched the sun set. Our sunset he called it. And she remembered the moment for ever.’
THE MAN. Why aren’t you dressed? It’s nearly dark.
THE WOMAN. I’m not coming.
THE MAN. What?
THE WOMAN. I have sunburn. And my book just got good.
THE MAN. What’s the date today?
THE WOMAN. To the Lighthouse.
THE MAN. August 21st.
THE WOMAN. Virginia Woolf.
THE MAN. What does that make tomorrow?
THE WOMAN. It’s about these people who go to a lighthouse…
THE MAN. August 22nd.
THE WOMAN. Or do they? Will they actually make it…
THE MAN. Which is…?
THE WOMAN. To the lighthouse…?
THE MAN. The New Moon! Tonight there’s no moon. It’s warm. Cumulus cloud. Big sunset –
THE WOMAN. You don’t say?
THE MAN. Once a year, when there’s no moon. Late summer, when the river’s in spate, that’s when they move. The sea trout. The sea trout are running! The storm last night. No rain for weeks. The pools get low, then whoosh! A million tons of water drops from the sky. In one night. They’re out there, right now, with no moon, a neap tide –
THE WOMAN. Look. You / tried to –
THE MAN. This happens / once every year.
THE WOMAN. You tried to teach me –
THE MAN (interrupting). Once!
THE WOMAN. You tried to teach me to cast all day on the beach. All I did was make knots. I couldn’t do it in broad / daylight.
THE MAN. It’s easy. You / just feel it.
THE WOMAN. How am I going to do it in the pitch bloody dark.
THE MAN (interrupting). There are monsters out there. Huge monsters. In the water. Right now!
THE WOMAN. You’re really selling this.
Pause.
THE MAN. The table’s moved.
THE WOMAN. What?
THE MAN. What? No I was just –
THE WOMAN. I can move it back.
THE MAN. No, it’s fine. I was just saying… I don’t know why. It’s no big deal.
THE WOMAN. I’ll move it back.
THE MAN. What? Don’t.
THE WOMAN. It’s the work of a moment. Here. (Picks it up.) Oww.
THE MAN. What’s wrong? Are you okay.
THE WOMAN. I’m fine.
THE MAN. Show me.
THE WOMAN. It’s just a splinter.
THE MAN. Let me look at it.
THE WOMAN. Ow.
THE MAN. Let me see.
THE WOMAN. It’s a splinter.
THE MAN. Show me it.
THE WOMAN. I said I’m fine.
THE MAN. It’s bleeding. Come here. Let me see. (Takes her hand.) That’s deep.
He takes out a ...