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WARDROBE’s concentration is shattered by the intrusion of a dishevelled SOLDIER. WARDROBE turns on him seething with temper and bewilderment.

WARDROBE: DID YOU FRIG MY MOTHER? / DID YOU? / DID YOU? / DID YOU FRIG MY MOTHER? / YOUR FINGERS SHONE / YOUR SHINING FINGERS / HE SAYS YOU FRIGGED MY MOTHER /

(He explodes in hysterical laughter, bending from the waist in his exertion. The SOLDIER recoils.)

It’s all right / it’s all so very / very / normal and all right /

(He recovers.)

Usual / normal / and all right /

(The SOLDIER stares, embarrassed but unable to withdraw from WARDROBE’s gaze.)

I shan’t last /

(The SOLDIER looks concerned.)

Out here / shan’t last /

(The SOLDIER shrugs. He tightens his mouth in his anxiety. WARDROBE sobs, and smothers the sobbing.)

Find the violin /

(Restored, WARDROBE plucks up his waistcoat. The SOLDIER pokes around the littered room.)

Over there somewhere /

(He buttons the garment.)

The violin /

(The SOLDIER retrieves the wrecked instrument. He extends it tentatively towards WARDROBE.)

That’s it /

(The SOLDIER frowns.)

That is the violin / or if it is not / strictly speaking / any longer a violin / it possesses all those elements that formerly constituted a violin /

(The SOLDIER shakes his head, bewildered. WARDROBE is incensed.)

YOU HAVE COME HERE FOR YOUR MUSIC LESSON / HAVE YOU NOT? / I ASSURE YOU THE THING YOU HAVE IN YOUR HAND / NOTWITHSTANDING YOUR CONTEMPT FOR ITS CONDITION / REMAINS AN INSTRUMENT / ALL INSTRUMENTS MAKE MUSIC / FIND THE BOW AND PLAY IT / THEREFORE /

(BIBLE extends a hand to WARDROBE. The gesture is ignored as WARDROBE, oddly calm, apostrophizes the unhappy SOLDIER.)

When your service is completed / when / after much discomfort / and some danger / possibly / you have served your term / and are restored to your mother / or your father / or / having neither mother nor father / to the cold and empty room sufficiently familiar to you to be recognized as home / when this day / this longed-for / ached-for / day arrives / remember / if you can / it will be your utter insignificance that has guaranteed this contract imposed upon you by the government has been honoured / and when / wedged in the troop train / through tears of joy you see this loathed landscape slipping by / spare a thought for me / who is not / and never could be / insignificant / and as a consequence / will never see his home again / but who will be starved / beaten / and driven into suicide / because I am a rebuke to the poverty of men / in thought / and dream / and therefore hateful to them / play now / play anything / but play /

(Obedient to WARDROBE’s instruction, the SOLDIER lifts the remnants of the violin to his chin, and with the bow, creates wretched sound. BIBLE smothers his head in the photographs. Boots begin to fly. WARDROBE, seemingly entranced, paces up and down beating time. The SOLDIER persists, but in pain. At last he abandons his efforts, letting the bow droop in his hand.)

PLAY / PLAY /

(WARDROBE’s vehemence compels the SOLDIER to resume, and he thrashes the instrument with a reckless vigour. WARDROBE is exultant. The shower of boots intensifies, some striking the unflinching and still crouching OLD WOMAN. At last, in an apotheosis of despair, the SOLDIER flings the instrument to the floor. The boots cease. The SOLDIER stares at the floor.)

Excellent /

(WARDROBE regards the SOLDIER, provocative, mischievous.)

Deeply / deeply / excellent /

(The SOLDIER does not lift his eyes.)

We lend too much / vastly too much / authority to the instrument / its form / its tuning / etcetera / it is a servitude / our spontaneity is constricted by our unquestioning obedience to this inflexible regime / the tangled strings and splintered wood now lying at your feet / if it no longer constitutes one instrument / constitutes another / is it not the will to music that we should revere / and not the discipline of its machinery? /

(The wind blows. The SOLDIER senses he is mocked. His mouth works in his frustration.)

SOLDIER: I’m ignorant /

(He squirms.)

I’m ignorant / as you said / and /

WARDROBE: Did I say? / did I say ignorant? /

SOLDIER: Insignificant /

WARDROBE: That I did say / insignificant / yes /

SOLDIER: Insignificant / I’m insignificant / and you / you are /

(He seems to suffer embarrassment.)

WARDROBE: (Helpfully.) The opposite? /

SOLDIER: The opposite / yes / you are the opposite / so very / very / opposite / the emperor / so I heard say / refused to let you leave the country / in case you stayed / in Paris / or America / and never came back again /

(He plays with the broken instrument with his foot, a shyness which he overcomes by lifting his eyes directly to WARDROBE.)

Explain / can you / what pleasure a man of great significance discovers in humiliating a man of no significance at all? /

(WARDROBE, immune to criticism, appears to reflect on the paradox. He walks up and down, chewing a finger in his concentration.)

WARDROBE: I think it’s this / I think / I think it’s this /

(His gaze falls on the now-crumpled photographs that festoon BIBLE’s bed. He is bemused, but only briefly distracted.)

That’s Sisi’s arse /

(BIBLE has no opportunity to respond as WARDROBE resumes his meditation.)

I think it’s my /

(He stops again, his gaze drawn back to BIBLE’s bed.)

And Sisi’s arse /

(He stares at BIBLE, bemused.)

Sisi’s cunt / and Sisi’s arse /

(He returns his attention to the SOLDIER.)

It is my love of God / I think / since you ask / a love so great I am compelled to imitate Him / not on so vast a scale / but /

(WARDROBE seems suddenly to lose interest in his own thesis. His hand lifts, hangs, falls, the SOLDIER grimaces, and turns to go.)

I’d love to tell you / one day / I’d love to tell you /

(Again his hand gropes the air.)

Where my rage comes from / and where my pity goes /

(The SOLDIER goes out, encountering on his way an overweight and aged OFFICER, his tunic decrepid but festooned with medals. The SOLDIER snaps to attention. The OFFICER observes the condition of the SOLDIER, without meeting his eyes.)

ENGINE: You’re filthy /

(Suddenly WARDROBE bursts into tears.)

WARDROBE: Si – si / Si – si /

(He sobs.)

Oh / Si – si /

ENGINE: (Cuffing the SOLDIER...) Filthy /

(ENGINE dismisses the SOLDIER with a sneer. WARDROBE suffocates his misery in a handkerchief. He blows his nose.)

Don’t teach him /

WARDROBE: I think I am obliged to /

ENGINE: Not if he’s filthy /

WARDROBE: All right / I won’t /

ENGINE: You cannot play a violin with dirty fingers / the dirt alters the note /

WARDROBE: Yes / yes / it does alter the note /

ENGINE: Don’t teach him / then /

WARDROBE: I won’t /

ENGINE: You are who you are /

WARDROBE: Yes /

ENGINE: Aren’t you? / You are who you are? /

WARDROBE: I think so / yes /

ENGINE: What do you mean / you think so? /

WARDROBE: I mean yes / I am who I am /

ENGINE: And he / who’s he? /

WARDROBE: (With a shrug.) Who he is? /

ENGINE: Exactly / he is who he is / so don’t teach him /

WARDROBE: It isn’t easy / in this atmosphere / what with the dust / what with the wind / to /

ENGINE: (Ignoring this.) Is she all right? /

WARDROBE: All right? / yes / yes / she’s all right / isn’t she? /

(WARDROBE looks to BIBLE for confirmation.)

BIBLE: All right / yes /

ENGINE: (To BIBLE.) And for you? / Is she all right for you? /

BIBLE: (Without conviction.) Yes / yes /

ENGINE: You two / you are not anybody / I know that / and I do my best for you /

WARDROBE: We are grateful /

ENGINE: That’s silly /

WARDROBE: No / no /

ENGINE: If I knew a better woman you would have her /

BIBLE: She does everything we ask her to /

ENGINE: Within the rules I’ve gone as far as it is possible to do / you are who you are / but at the same time /

(He shrugs.)

WARDROBE: You are who you are /

(ENGINE senses WARDROBE’s irony. He is patient.)

ENGINE: And who am I / Mr Wardrobe? /

WARDROBE: You are the individual upon whom the Emperor relies for the execution of his decisions / decisions about which you may or may not have your own opinion / but which / with regard to their effects / you make no attempt to moderate / on the one hand / nor exacerbate / upon the other / an attitude which / I feel sure / more than entitles you to the medals you carry on your chest /

(BIBLE looks to WARDROBE with apprehension. ENGINE seems to contemplate a response, but thinks better of it.)

ENGINE: I must get on /

(Despite his resolution, ENGINE does not move a muscle. WARDROBE, in a condition of wary triumph, watches him.)

I must get on /

(Now ENGINE departs, without haste. Out of the silence, WARDROBE exults.)

WARDROBE: DID YOU FRIG MY MOTHER? / DID YOU? / DID YOU? / DID YOU FRIG MY MOTHER? / YOUR FINGERS SHONE / YOUR SHINING FINGERS / HE SAYS YOU FRIGGED MY MOTHER /

(He laughs insincerely as the boots fly in, causing him to duck his head.)