The Matlida Waltz by Deborah Mulhall
ACT ONE
(A figure in the background is BANJO PATERSON. He is always onstage,
sometimes in a scene and when not, quietly watching. BANJO moves
forward and gives a piece of paper to DRYSDALE, who is seated at his
easel. DRYSDALE reads, occasionally casting withering looks at BANJO)
PROLOGUE
BANJO
What do you think?
DRYSDALE (giving the paper back)
And your point is Banjo?
BANJO
I thought there might be a poem in it. What are you doing, Russell?
DRYSDALE
What I was always doing.
BANJO (examining Drysdale's work)
Looks sort of lonely. Isolated. Big. Empty.
DRYSDALE
Hmm. I see it as a liberation from the civilised world.
BANJO
You just made that up.
DRYSDALE
You reckon?
BANJO
Or you're quoting one of your art critics.
(on a notepad he begins to write)
" this new land apart, beyond
The hard old world grown fierce and fond
And bound by precedent and bond,
May we read the riddle right, and give
New hope to those who dimly see
That all things yet shall be for good,
And teach the world at length to be
One vast united brotherhood. "
DRYSDALE
Yes. Needs more though.
BAJO
Your painting or my poem?
DRYSDALE
Your poem. Nothing wrong with my painting.
BANJO
You should respect your elders.
DRYSDALE
Finish your poem.
BANJO
"So may it be! and he who sings
In accents hopeful, clear, and strong,
The glories which that future brings
Shall sing, indeed, a wondrous song."
DRYSDALE
Good. I like it. Though there's nothing in it about waltzing
Germans. Or Matildas.
(BANJO smiles, folds up the paper.)
1894: Streets of Sydney
VERA and IDA enter. Each carrying a suitcase and looking somewhat
lost. IDA checking the address on the street against the paper in her
hand.
IDA
Here we are Father's solicitors. Stay here Vera and mind our
bags whilst I meet with Mr (Paterson)
VERA (interrupting)
Isn't it exciting Ida? The city! I cannot believe we are actually
here.
IDA
I would rather be back home. This place is too dusty and dirty.
VERA
Oh no! I think it is wonderful. Home is so big and empty. I always
felt so desolate and alone.
IDA
Alone! You were never alone. You have me. And you have Tom.
VERA (looking at the ring on her finger)
A drover and a shearer, I hardly ever see him. Anyway (shrugging) I
don't really feel the way the way I want to feel about my
husband.
IDA
Father approved of him.
VERA
Father would have approved of any man rather than see us spinsters. I
am sure Tom only asked me because father coerced him. Anyway,
Father's dead now. So I don't think matters so much, does it?
IDA
Of course it matters. Surely you cannot be considering crying off?
VERA
But I don't think Tom would care if I did. I really don't.
IDA
But your reputation if you cried off from the marriage people
would say
VERA
What? What could they say that would matter Ida? Here we are, so far
from home and no money to speak of. What could it possibly matter?
IDA
No man would want you again.
VERA
Why do you say that?
IDA
No respectable man.
VERA
I wish respectability was not your God, Ida.
IDA
Don't blaspheme.
VERA
Why won't you understand? Being alone could be preferable than being
forever bound to someone who Ida, when Tom kissed me I felt
nothing. Shouldn't I feel something? A tingling or a yearning. A
something?
IDA (scandalised)
Vera! Really! You let him kiss you! I at times I don't know
what to do with you. Perhaps marriage will settle you down.
VERA
It won't settle Tom down. He's a wanderer at heart.
IDA
For myself, I do not like the notion of marriage. But it suits some
people. They need it.
VERA
Some people are not meant to live predictable lives.
IDA
You read far too many novels. Wait here for me.
(VERA is restless. She walks back and forth, looking up at the
buildings. Her aimless sightseeing leads her to bump into HORACE who
has just entered).
HORACE
Excuse me miss. (He is immediately struck by VERA)
VERA
Oh, sorry. No, completely my fault. I was looking up, you see. (she
becomes aware of his admiring look). The city seems so magnificent
that I cannot help but look at all the building and I was not paying
attention. Pray, excuse me.
HORACE
Magnificent?
VERA
Don't you think it is just wonderful?
HORACE
I never really thought about it.
VERA
I suppose if you see it every day, you grow accustomed. Some of them
are almost lovely.
HORACE
You make me think I should look at the city every day like it's all
brand new. Do you like that building over there?
VERA
Oh yes.
HORACE
I'd say it was the work of a master craftsman!
VERA
Indeed. Although, I don't know a lot about bricks. Or brickwork.
HORACE
That is my work. Well, not mine entirely. But I was part of the team
who built it.
VERA
Then, I might venture to say it is exceptionally fine brickwork
indeed.
HORACE
And I might venture to say you have an exceptionally fine eye for
buildings. Err (tipping his hat, bowing) Horace Wilcox. My mates
call me Horrie.
VERA
Mr Wilcox. I am Vera Templeton and my friends call me Vera.
HORRACE
I think however, I shall call you VeeVee.
VERA
Mr Wilcox
HORACE
-Horrie
VERA
Ahhh, Mr Wilcox, as I do not know you it is highly improper for you to
call me any such thing.
HORACE
Then I shall fix that by getting' to know you.
VERA
Indeed?
HORACE (furtively checking his pocket for enough change)
Around the corner is a very nice tea shop, I believe. May I take you
to tea, Miss Templeton?
VERA (glances around uncertainly)
But I have my suitcase. And then there is my sister -
HORACE
Is she invisible?
VERA (laughs)
No. Although sometimes I wish she were. No, she is at the solicitors.
See, father died and we have come up to Sydney to sort out the estate.
What there is left of it. I don't understand it really but so many
farmers have lost everything. The bank has foreclosed
HORACE
I think this is better talked about over a nice cuppa. (picks up her
suitcase) And we'll watch from the teashop window for your magical
sister.
VERA (emboldened)
Why, I think I should like that Mr Wilcox.
HORACE
Horrie!
(They exit. The lights fade to )
(1895. Queensland Dagworth Station)
BANJO (to audience)
The waltz is a German dance. When it was first created the world
thought it a shocking dance, an adventurous dance. When young German
men embarked on journeys, they wanted daring adventures and where ever
they went out into the world, they said they were going a-waltzing.
And soon, other young men who went on adventures too said they were
a-waltzing. And the young German lads talked of Matildas; their
affectionate name for the army of women camp followers who offered
themselves and warmth and comfort for those lads a long way from home.
Too often in war. And fairly soon, anything which offered a young man
comfort on his adventures, something to hang on to in grimmest times,
became his Matilda, even if it just his rucksack and blanket. And many
a young man went a-waltzing with his Matilda in this country with its
vastness, its ghost gums and infinite night skies.
(CHRISTINA creeps up on him, from behind and covers his eyes with her
hands.)
CHRISTINA
Guess who!
(BANJO smiles, reaches around and pulls her around for a kiss.
CHRISTINA laughs when they break apart)
BANJO
Christina! Someone will hear you.
CHRISTINA
I don't care.
BANJO
Yes you do.
CHRISTINA
Andrew. I have been thinking
BANJO
You always call me Andrew.
CHRISTINA
It is your name.
BANJO
Everyone else always calls me Banjo.
CHRISTINA
I am not everyone else.
BANJO
No. And anyway, I like it. The sound of my name in your mouth.
(They kiss)
[end of extract]