Silas Marner the Immigrant

Transcription

1 Silas Marner the Immigrant Adapted for the stage by Tim Luscombe Based on Silas Marner the Weaver of Raveloe By George Eliot In old days there were angels who came and took men by the hand and led them away from the city of destruction. We see no white-winged angels now. But yet men are led away from threatening destruction: a hand is put into theirs, which leads them forth gently toward a calm and bright land, so that they look no more backward; and the hand may be a little child s. [from Silas Marner, Chapter 14] Draft 1, February 2014 Tim Luscombe 2014 tim@timluscombe.com +44 (0)

2 The play takes place over three time periods, spaced by 15-year intervals. Only Silas Marner is in all three; some are in two; most just one. Silas Marner, the weaver of Raveloe (at 25, 40 and 55) Dowlas, a Farrier Snell, a Landlord (old then older) Jem Rodney, a poacher (raddled then decrepit) Sarah, Silas fiancée William Dane, Silas friend Chapel Minister Three Chapel Officers Godfrey Cass (at 26 and 41) Molly Farren, Godfrey s wife Mrs Osgood s Servant-maid Dunstan Cass, Godfrey s brother A Peddler Bryce, an acquaintance of Godfrey Martha, the Glazier s wife Jinny Oates, the Cobbler s daughter Squire Cass, father to Godfrey and Dunstan Dolly Winthrop (at 30 and 45) Nancy Lammeter (at 22 and 37) Prissy Lammeter (at 27 and 42) Doctor Kimble Eppie, Molly s daughter Aaron, Dolly s son James, a servant A Parson The play can be performed by a large cast, but it was originally written for a cast of 6 actors and 2 actor/stage managers. There are many ways of allocating the parts, but here s the way it was originally envisaged for 8 extremely versatile performers. Actor 1: Silas Marner. Actor 2: Dowlas / Chapel Officer 1 / Godfrey. Actor 3: Jem / William / Dunstan / Aaron. Actor 4: Snell / Minister / Squire Cass. Actor 5: Sarah / Molly / Jinny / Eppie. Actor 6: Chapel Officer 2 / Martha / Dolly / Nancy. Actor/Stage Manager 1: Chapel Officer 3 / Peddler / Bryce / Kimble / James / Parson. Actor/Stage Manager 2: Mrs Osgood s Servant-maid / Prissy.

3 Set: The play is multi-locational, though three places are of greatest importance. Of course other solutions are possible, but the script suggests a particular geographical layout: Silas cottage (dominated by a practical loom) upstage centre. Downstage on one side is the Rainbow pub and, on the other, the parlour of the Red House. There should be no firm boundaries between these three places. Because action often occurs in more than one of them at once, an important feature to any solution of their spacing is that simultaneous action must be visible and not masked. Other locations overlap with or fit between these three. Cross-casting design implications: Occasionally, the cross casting suggested on the previous page allows no real time for costume changes. From one scene to the next, a character in the Rainbow, for instance, becomes a character in the Red House. So it might be helpful if the Rainbow and Red House are fixed some or all of their elements being a permanent part of the set so that at least the location of a character on stage is a clear indication as to who s/he is. For instance: an old wooden table with tankards for the Rainbow, and a grander one with a candelabra for the Red House. Accents and dialect: The distinction between accents of place and class is another essential factor in making the cross-casting work. Characters mostly come from a fictitious South Midlands rural village (between Nuneaton and Coventry) called Raveloe, in the early years of the 19 th Century. However, Silas himself and a few other characters originate from Manchester, and thus have Lancastrian accents. Silas becomes more rural-south Midlands after the 2 nd time jump. The script offers only a guide for approaching the variously educated rural-south Midlands accents. It generally, though not slavishly, follows Eliot s own use of vocabulary and spelling (e.g. o for on and of before consonants [except h and y], appen for perhaps, oss for horse and allays for always etc). Actors should do their own accent and dialect research too. As given in the script, the dialect isn t over-complicated, but there are two features that may trip up the reader. nor = than. as = that or who. For example, discussing the letters she s pricked on her lard cakes, Dolly says: You see the letters have held better nor common, meaning better than commonly. Dowlas the farrier says A man as works a loom meaning A man who works a loom.

4 Silas Marner the Immigrant Act One. In the middle of his cottage in Raveloe upstage centre is Silas loom. Beneath it is a disguised hole in the floor. There are other objects placed around the loom that suggest Silas home, including additional places to sit, but he spends most of his time working in his loom. To avoid walls and doors, Silas leaves his cottage and contacts the outside world by making a journey once round the loom. This, in reverse, is also the way others approach him. This circular action gives the play flow, creates journeys and distance, helps the action go back and forth in time, accentuates the importance of the loom to Silas and, ultimately, suggests his isolation. Scene One. In the darkness, we hear the loom s rhythmic rattling. With lights up, Silas (40, but looking older) in treadmill attitude, is bent short-sightedly over it, working diligently. For a while he simply works, industriously, even obsessively. Downstage, men gather at the village pub the Rainbow. They are Mr Snell the landlord, Jem Rodney a purple-faced poacher in a smock frock, and Mr Dowlas a farrier in a fustian jacket. They smoke pipes. Dowlas: No, all of em as wander the land for work are strange, Mr Snell. All of em a weaver like Silas Marner just as much as a peddler or a knife-grinder. A-travellin s a right for the birds, like the swallows what come back wi the spring. Not for men. Weavin work s got the devil in t. Another draught thank you kindly, Mr Snell. Snell: Silas Marner s got no arm in im, Mr Dowlas.

5 Dowlas: No arm? Weavin no arm? Your winnowin machine sounds a right, don t it? The flail makes a good proper noise, nice an smooth. But a man as works a loom, wi it s a-scuttlin and a-rattlin is a queer un. Who knows where a wandrin man has his home or his origin? Snell: We know where Master Marner has his home. The cottage up by the old stone pit. And we know where he has his origins too, don t we? North ard. He come from a fair sized north ard town. Dowlas: He s a settler from distant parts and allays will be. We don t know him. And how can you trust someone, less you know someone as knows his father and mother at least? Snell: I ll bet his father and mother are long dead and buried, for it s fifteen year since Old Master Marner first come to Raveloe, and he done nothin wrong as I know on, so don t you be sayin he s doin no devil work. Dowlas: He s done no devil work yet maybe. But he do nothin right neither. You niver see him, all withered and yellow, without he s bent under that heavy bag. Niver stirs abroad from one week to the next without that queer burden on his back. Snell: Nothin queer to it. Full o flax thread or else rolls o linen. From what I hear, there s no deficiency i the quality or the tale of his cloth neither. His looks might be again im, but Master Marner s highly welcome to the housewives round these parts wi the old weaver at Tarley dead these ten years, and a man s allowed to keep himsen to himsen, I believe. Dowlas: I grant you Raveloe s got no great park for him to come down and stroll about in nothin but a ol church and three brick-and-stone homesteads a-standin close upo the road, but he might take a glass here at the Rainbow, or share a word or two at the wheelwright s. To my knowledge, he niver invited no comer to step across his doorsill even, and the lasses know he s niver goin to urge one of em to accept him. Nor would they if he asked, coz none of em want to marry a dead man come to life again. Jem: It s his eyes. Dowlas: What s that, Jem?

6 Jem: Large, brown, bulgin eyes. Could dart cramps or rickets into you if he d a mind to fix you wi that stare of his. Snell: (Bringing a full drinking-can to Dowlas) Good health to you. Dowlas: Much obliged. Jem: A evening when I was comin home after mole catching o Squire Cass s land, I saw Master Marner leanin gainst a stile wi that heavy bag of his on his back. Snell: Ay, you told us the story afore, Jem. Jem: And I ll tell it again. Dowlas: We want to hear it a right, Jem. Jem: Now don t you think a man in his senses d rest his bag o the stile? No, not Silas. Then I see t. His eyes are set like a dead man s. I speak to him, but he don t answer. I shake him, but his limbs are stiff, and his hands clutch the bag as if they re made on iron. I make up my mind he must really be dead. But like as you might say i the winkin of a eye he comes a right again, says goodnight and off he walks. Dowlas: It were a fit, Jem. What think you? It were a fit. Jem: I know not what it were. It were a dreadful sight. Snell: But who knows when a man went into a fit and not fell down? I reckon what Jem saw was a man s soul being loose from his body, goin out and in, like a bird out of its nest and back. Silas has stopped working, the loom falling silent. While the drinkers in the Rainbow continue talking, Silas leaves the loom, and lights on it dim. They come up on the path around the loom. While the Rainbow scene continues, Silas make a circle of the loom, finally stopping stock still, staring ahead in the way Jem described.

7 Light begins to focus on Silas face while a disturbing, abstract sound grows with the light s intensity. Dowlas: Ay, and that s how folks get over-wise, Mr Snell, for they go to school like that, i that shell-less state, to them who d teach em more nor their neighbours could learn wi their five senses and the parson. Cleverness is queer, I m tellin you it s conjurin and Master Marner is clever. Nay, honest folk i Raveloe are not over-wise at least, not beyond knowin the signs o the weather. But Master Marner s a knowledge of herbs, and charms too prob ly. He cured Sally Oates the cobbler s wife, didn t he, while she d been under the doctor s care for two months and more. Made her sleep like a baby when her heart had been beatin enough to burst her body. How d he know what d bring back Sally Oates breath if he don t know a fine sight more nor that? He might cure many folks if he would. He d save you the cost o the doctor if you could only speak the devil fair enough. Jem: I tell you, he s worth speaking fair a right, if only to keep him from doin you a mischief. Silas face alone is visible. He s having a cataleptic fit. A momentary blackout. PROJECTION: 15 years earlier. Scene Two. Immediately, Silas comes to from his fit and the strange sound disappears. Manchester, fifteen years earlier. The Rainbow has vanished. At 25, Silas is youthful and upright with the eager light of enthusiasm in his eyes. Sarah runs on. Sarah: I thought you were dead!

8 Silas: Well, as you can see, I m not! Sarah: But you couldn t be wakened for an hour. More than an hour. No one could make you speak, Silas. I thought I d lost you. Silas: My dear Sarah. He takes her hand tenderly. Sarah: It s never happened before? Silas: No, never Sarah: Then it must be a sickness. If it happens again, goodness knows, it might last even longer William enters. William: Brother Silas yet lives! Silas: Brother William! William: Now, tell me, Silas, what visions did you see? Silas: Visions? None. William: What? You ve no memory of Silas: No. Nothing. William: Well, even so, I d say the chances of your heavenly salvation must be even stronger now. Sarah: Then Silas will be like you, William Silas: No. William saw in the Bible the words calling and election sure standing by themselves on a white page William: In a dream Silas: But a dream at the time of your confirmation. So it has a strong claim to truth.

9 William: It has given me an unshaken certainty, it s true. Silas: When it comes to an assurance of salvation, I can never be certain of anything more than a little hope and a great deal of fear William: But, Silas, aren t you surer now? A Minister from Silas chapel enters. Minister: I trust you re feeling well again, brother Silas? Silas: I never felt sick, Minister. Minister: Never sick? Silas: Not for a moment. Minister: Then certainly this suspension of consciousness has a truly spiritual significance. Sarah: Do you not think, even so, Minister, that perhaps it s a medical matter one that we don t understand? Minister: No, Sarah. For I ve always known brother Silas was a young man of exemplary life and ardent faith, and hoped he would soon have a role in the government of our little chapel and community. But this strange rigidity of his, especially as it occurred during a prayer meeting, shows in him an even greater accession of light and fervour than I had previously imagined. To my mind it s a sign that he s a brother selected for a peculiar discipline. Sarah: (Marvelling) Silas (She reaches our for Silas hand and smiles at him). William: Though, perhaps Silas: What, William? William: I urge you, Silas. Make a special effort now to see that you have no accursed thing within your soul. Silas: Why? I m sure I have not.

10 William: But we cannot know how can we? if this trance is proof of divine favour or the visitation of Satan. Sarah gasps. Minister: William, that is a wild surmise Silas: No, Minister. William s correct. We cannot know. I accept his rebuke as a brotherly office. Though it s painful to hear, I must acknowledge he might be right. Minister: Well, far be it for me to prevent you two young weavers from wrestling the argument and searching for the truth. You re our Jonathan and David indeed, one just as earnest and pious and loving as the other. The noise which before accompanied Silas trance returns. But I urge you, brother, not to let this event make you too bold but to continue your work with humility. Silas: Of course, Minister. Minister: You will tend the deacon by his bedside tonight as usual? Silas: I will take the night watch until 2. Then William relieves me. Minister: I believe the real danger of the poor man s illness has past and I trust he will soon return to good health. William: We all hope for the deacon s swift recovery, Minister. As William, Sarah and the Minister depart, lights focus down on Silas. He s experiencing another cataleptic fit. For a few seconds we see only his face. Again, the noise ceases abruptly with a blackout. Lights return almost immediately. Silas is shocked to find himself facing a panel of Chapel Officers, including the Minister. Minister: You did nothing, Master Marner. How long had the deacon been dead when you finally called for help?

11 Silas: I I m unsure. When I realised he d died, the candle was already burning low. Minister: But why did you not call for assistance immediately? Silas: I did. Minister: You said when you examined him at four o clock this morning his limbs were rigid. So he d been dead at least two hours. While he lived, his breathing was audible. How is it you hadn t noticed for two whole hours that it had stopped? Silas: I I don t know. The Minister produces a pocket-knife. Minister: This is your knife? Silas: Yes. Minister: Do you know where you left it? Silas: I don t know where I left it anywhere out of my own pocket. Minister: It was found in the bureau by the deacon s bedside in the place where the bag of chapel-money lay. I myself saw it there yesterday. Last night a hand removed that bag. Whose hand could it be except that of the man to whom the knife belongs? It would be best if you didn t hide your sin, brother Marner. Confess and repent. Silas: I bear no sin I know of. Minister: The evidence is heavy against you. Silas: I know nothing about the knife being there, or the money being gone. Search me and my dwelling. William enters. You will find nothing but three pound five of my own savings, which William knows I have had these six months.

12 Minister: When the money was taken, no man was with our departed brother but you. William declared he was hindered by sudden sickness from going to take his place and relieving you as usual, and you yourself said that he had not come. Silas: I must have slept. (Pause). Or I must have had another visitation like the one which you all saw me under in the prayer meeting. So the thief must have come and gone while I was not in the body, but out of the body. Once you d all arrived, I returned home, and I ve been at my loom all day and nowhere else. So I say again, search me and my dwelling. William: I have searched your dwelling, brother Silas. (Holds out a bag and shows it to be empty). It was tucked behind the chest of drawers in your chamber. Confess it. Don t hide your sin any longer. Silas: For nine years that we have gone in and out together, William, have you ever known me tell a lie? William: Brother, how do I know what you may have done in the secret chambers of your heart to give Satan an advantage over you? Silas: God will clear me. William gives the empty bag to the Minister. (Suddenly) No, I rem (Stops himself). Minister: What? What is it, brother Marner? Silas: (Looking at William) The knife wasn t in my pocket. William: I don t know what you mean. Minister: Where was it? Chapel Man: Come, tell us, where was the knife if not in your pocket? Minister: Clear yourself if you can, brother Marner. Silas: I am sore stricken. I can say nothing. God will clear me.

13 Minister: He will if you are innocent. We shall seek the truth through prayer, after which lots shall be drawn. Immediate divine interference will inform us if you are not guilty. Let us pray. Silas looks at William. William holds Silas gaze. Silas, his faith in man, or at least in William, cruelly dented, turns away and kneels to pray his faith in God still intact. William and the Chapel Officers also kneel. They pray. As, one by one, they rise and exit, lights change to indicate time passing. At last, only the Minister, William and Silas remain. William and the Minister are standing. Silas still kneels. At a distance, Sarah waits. Minister: The lots declare your guilt, brother Marner. Silas stands, his faith in God wavering. Your membership of our chapel is suspended. Silas: (To William) The last time I remember using my knife was when I took it out to cut a strap for you. I don t remember putting it in my pocket again. Minister: God has spoken, Silas. If you wish to be received in chapel again, make your confession and render up the stolen money. Silas: (To William) You stole the money, and you have woven a plot to lay the sin at my door. But you may prosper, for there is no just God that governs the earth righteously, but a God of lies Minister: Marner! Silas: That bears witness against the innocent. William: (To the Minister) I leave you to judge whether this is the voice of Satan or not. I can do nothing but pray for you, Silas. (Moves away).

14 Silas cannot lift his head. Silas: (To himself) She will cast me off too. Minister: Your engagement to Sarah has been recognized at prayer meetings. Normally, a strict investigation would be needed to break it, but your actions remove the need for that, Silas. Sarah asks me to inform you that she holds your engagement to be at an end. Silas turns away. William exits. On his way, he offers his hand to Sarah, who takes it. They exit together. The Minister exits. Silas is alone, defeated and demoralised, bewildered and loveless. In silence, he makes his weary way towards the loom. Again, he walks a circle around it and then sits at the bench. Slowly he begins weaving. As his rhythm picks up, he gradually begins to lean forward, his face getting closer to the shaft bars and the beater. He bends short-sightedly over the loom, working diligently in a treadmill attitude. We are back in Raveloe and Silas is 40 as he was at the beginning. He works his loom, weaving without reflection, like a spider, from pure impulse. Lights cross fade to: Scene Three. Silas is still weaving, and weaves throughout, mechanically productive as ever. Downstage, a pretty young woman runs on laughing giddily half in and half out of a smart but ravaged dress.

15 She s chased by a handsome, shirtless young man who carries an open bottle and has no trouble catching the woman. She s keen to be caught. Molly: Let me go. Godfrey: Never. Molly: Liar. She s allowed herself to be seduced to the floor. Godfrey: There as pretty an angel as ever I saw. You re heaven. Molly: You re drunk. Godfrey: Any man with you must be drunk with folly with desire. Molly: Get off me, you great brute. No. Wait. He kisses her and she gives in. He starts to make love to her. She delves inside her bosom to produce a bottle of laudanum and takes a swig. Godfrey: Damn it, Molly, must you? Molly: Helps me relax. Godfrey: You re the one woman who needs no help relaxing. Molly: Don t you adore my skin pale? Don t I excite you all the more when I got that pallid milky colouring? Godfrey: You do look lovely Molly: Well, laudanum s what gives it ya. A smooth creamy complexion like Nancy Lammeter s got

16 Godfrey: Don t talk rot about Nancy. Molly: She s an angel a good angel. (Straddling Godfrey) I don t care about Nancy Lammeter no more, though everyone says what a handsome couple you and she would make. She ll never come to be mistress at the Red House now, because you re mine. Forever. (Takes another swig and re-fixes the bottle in her dress). In his cottage, Silas stops weaving and gets out of the loom. Thank you for reading the first pages of Silas Marner by Tim Luscombe Please me if you'd like to read the entire script and for rights and licensing enquiries tim@timluscombe.com Tim Luscombe