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JOHN BUNYAN: So, not the flesh. I see. [From OFF there is the SOUND of the CHURCH CLOCK, striking once.]
HUSBAND: It’s like we’ve been here hours. Was that for half-past twelve or one o’clock, do you suppose?
WIFE: What does it matter? Who cares if it’s half-past twelve or one o’clock? It’s always going to be the same time from now on, as far as you’re concerned. It’s always going to be too late. Or who knows? It migh
t be half-past too late. I couldn’t say. [They lapse into another hostile silence.]
JOHN CLARE: What do you mean, you see?
JOHN BUNYAN: What?
JOHN CLARE: When I said that when confined to hospital I was not ailing in the flesh, you said “So, not the flesh. I see.” What did you see?
JOHN BUNYAN: It was a turn of phrase. Think nothing of it.
JOHN CLARE: I will not think nothing of it, for it seems to me there was an implication, was there not?
JOHN BUNYAN: An implication?
JOHN CLARE: Ah, don’t play the fool with me. I’m twice the idiot you’ll ever be. You know full well the nature of the implication I refer to. You as good as said “If not the flesh, then what?” Deny it if you can.
JOHN BUNYAN: I’ll not deny it. I had but supposed that you were deemed to be afflicted of the mind or spirit, and had been surprised that there were hospitals attending such affairs. Believe me when I say I did not seek to judge your clarity, or lack thereof.
JOHN CLARE: You did not seek to call me lunatic? There are those who would not be so restrained.
JOHN BUNYAN: I have myself been called the same, along with blasphemer and devil. It is ever thus, it seems, for any man who has a vision in his soul and dares to speak it, most especially if that should be a vision inconvenient to the wealthy or the ordinary run of things.
JOHN CLARE: That’s it exactly! You have bound it in a nutshell. When there is a fear that some truth may be told, the teller is put under lock and key and called a criminal or else a madman. My own circumstances make it plain, for if even Lord Byron may be deemed insane, then why not any man? It is beyond my comprehension.
JOHN BUNYAN: [A pause, during which BUNYAN gazes at CLARE with understanding and pity.] And mine likewise. [Another pause, thoughtful and reflective.] Then there are still inequalities and prisons in this age of unseen horses, even. Am I to suppose the New Jerusalem did not arrive?
JOHN CLARE: I must confess I have not noticed it in this vicinity, although it may be that it turned up while I was confined and no one thought to tell me.
JOHN BUNYAN: [He shakes his head, disappointed.] If that were the case, then we should all be saints.
JOHN CLARE: Perhaps we are.
JOHN BUNYAN: That is a dismal summary.
JOHN CLARE: You’re right. It is. That’s worse than the invisible manure. I wish I’d never said it. [He and BUNYAN lapse into a bleak silence.]
HUSBAND: The lion shall lie down beside the lamb. That’s in the Bible.
WIFE: Oh, and does the Bible say whether the lamb’s still there to get up in the morning?
HUSBAND: Celia, I thought you liked the Bible.
WIFE: Lots of things are in the Bible, Johnny. Lots and lots and lots. And then their daughters. So, do you admit it, then? Did you lie down beside the lamb?
HUSBAND: I’m not a saint.
WIFE: Yes, you’ve already told us that. You’re not a lion, either. And you’re not a man. You’re nothing but a snazzy creature that once ran a dance-band, and now you’re not man enough to face the music.
HUSBAND: [Startled.] You said it had stopped.
WIFE: It has. [A pause.] What was it that the grass was whispering about?
HUSBAND: I don’t know. Nothing. You know grass. It’s always whispering. It’s got nothing better to do. What does it know? It’s grass, for heaven’s sake.
