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HERZEN   A homecoming. My mother has been in Paris with one of my children. They’re returning tonight on the Marseilles steamer.

CONSUL   Your little boy who is deaf?

HERZEN   I was wondering why Orlov would keep a consul in a place like this.

CONSUL   No, no … what an egoist! I see your children with their nurse, playing on the beach. But you’re right. Life is very quiet. Very few passports are being issued to travellers since the … events in Europe.

Natalie comes onto the verandah with Sazonov.

NATALIE   Look who’s come from Geneva!

HERZEN   (to the Consul) Allow me to present you to my wife. This is Mr …

CONSUL   Ibayev, Russian Consul.

Natalie is frightened.

NATALIE   What …? (to Herzen) Is everything all right?

HERZEN   Perfectly. (to the Consul) And this is …

Sazonov becomes suave.

SAZONOV   Ah. I’m impressed. I never told anyone I was coming.

CONSUL   I had business with Mr Herzen.

Sazonov laughs sceptically.

SAZONOV   Of course. Please compliment Count Orlov for me … on his excellent information.

CONSUL   Do you know Count Orlov?

SAZONOV   No. But I daresay he knows me. I was a thorn in his side for many years in Paris.

HERZEN   Sit down, have a drink—

SAZONOV   (ignoring Herzen) No doubt you know a little bit about my … activities in Geneva. Tell Orlov we will undoubtedly be meeting one day.

CONSUL   Certainly. What name shall I say?

SAZONOV   Just say … the blue nightingale is still flying in the sky … He’ll understand.

Herzen signs and seals the letter.

HERZEN   All done.

The Consul accepts the letter and bows to Natalie and Sazonov. Herzen accompanies him out. There is a transition to evening. Natalie and Rocca, perhaps with a maid, are completing the preparations for the reunion, with Chinese lanterns, bunting, toys on the table, and a ‘Welcome Kolya’ sign. (In an ideal world Sasha would be part of this, but he is eleven now. His never-seen sister, Tata, would be seven.) Sazonov is vaguely helping, too, but soon gives up to ramble on and drink. Natalie hardly bothers to listen to him.

SAZONOV   I’ve had a letter from Botkin … Alexander’s pamphlet on the development of revolutionary ideas in Russia gave heart attacks to his friends in the Moscow University circle … (He becomes conscious of Rocca and suddenly addresses him.) Watch out, look what you’re doing!

Rocca reacts late and baffled.

NATALIE   He doesn’t know Russian. He’s our Italian servant. (to Rocca) E niente. [It’s nothing.]

SAZONOV   You can’t be too careful.

NATALIE   Why aren’t they here yet? I should have gone with Alexander to meet the steamer …

SAZONOV   What else …? Moscow was en fête for the opening of the railway. Tsar Nicholas loves it. He inspected every bridge and tunnel personally. His German relatives impressed everyone by their appetites in the station refreshment room …

NATALIE   (distracted) Why are they so late? It’s probably Granny’s trunks. She travels like an archduchess.

SAZONOV   Who’s with them?

NATALIE   Only her maid, I think, and Spielmann, Kolya’s tutor. (to Rocca) Por favor, vai a vedere se vengano. [Please go and see if they’re coming.]

SAZONOV   The speech man? Are you mad? That can’t be his real name!

Rocca meets Herzen at the edge of the stage. Herzen brushes past him. Natalie sees him.

NATALIE   Alexander …? Where are they?

HERZEN   They’re not coming. The boat from Marseilles … isn’t coming.

Herzen embraces her, weeping.

NATALIE   (bewildered) They’re not coming at all?

HERZEN   No. There was an accident at sea … Oh, Natalie!

NATALIE   When is Kolya coming?

HERZEN   He’s never coming. I’m sorry.

Natalie fights out of his embrace and pummels him.

NATALIE   Don’t you dare tell me that! (She runs inside.)

HERZEN   (to Rocca) Get rid of everything. (Herzen gestures at the decorations.)

SAZONOV   God … what happened?

HERZEN   They got rammed by another boat. A hundred people drowned. (to Rocca in Italian) Get rid of all this.

Herzen follows Natalie indoors. She starts to howl in her grief. Rocca uncertainly starts to blow out the candles.

AUGUST 1852

At night Herzen stands by the guardrail on the deck of the crosschannel steamer at sea. After a few moments he realises that Bakunin is at the rail, too.

BAKUNIN   Where are we off to? Who’s got the map?

HERZEN   Michael? Are you dead?

BAKUNIN   No.

HERZEN   That’s good. I was just thinking about you, and there you are, how very … un-odd!—yes, looking just like you looked when I saw you off in the rain on the tender to Kronstadt where the steamer was waiting. Do you remember?

BAKUNIN   You were the only one who came to see me off.

HERZEN   And now you’re the only one who’s come to see me off!

BAKUNIN   Where are you going?

HERZEN   England.

BAKUNIN   Alone?

HERZEN   Natalie died three months ago … We lost Kolya. He was drowned at sea, my mother with him, and a young man who was teaching Kolya to speak. None of them was ever found. It finished my Natalie. She was expecting another baby, and when it came, she had no strength left. The baby died, too.

BAKUNIN   My poor friend.

HERZEN   Oh, Michael, you should have heard Kolya talk! He had such a funny, charming way … and he understood everything you said, you’d swear he was listening! The thing I can’t bear … (He almost breaks down.) … I just wish it hadn’t happened at night. He couldn’t hear in the dark. He couldn’t see your lips.

BAKUNIN   Little Kolya, his life cut so short! Who is this Moloch …?

HERZEN   No, no, not at all! His life was what it was. Because children grow up, we think a child’s purpose is to grow up. But a child’s purpose is to be a child. Nature doesn’t disdain what lives only for a day. It pours the whole of itself into the each moment. We don’t value the lily less for not being made of flint and built to last. Life’s bounty is in its flow, later is too late. Where is the song when it’s been sung? The dance when it’s been danced? It’s only we humans who want to own the future, too. We persuade ourselves that the universe is modestly employed in unfolding our destination. We note the haphazard chaos of history by the day, by the hour, but there is something wrong with the picture. Where is the unity, the meaning, of nature’s highest creation? Surely those millions of little streams of accident and wilfulness have their correction in the vast underground river which, without a doubt, is carrying us to the place where we’re expected! But there is no such place, that’s why it’s called Utopia. The death of a child has no more meaning than the death of armies, of nations. Was the child happy while he lived? That is a proper question, the only question. If we can’t arrange our own happiness, it’s a conceit beyond vulgarity to arrange the happiness of those who come after us. (Pause.) What happened to you, Michael? Were you betrayed?