Watch Tom Hiddleston, Zawe Ashton and Charlie Cox perform Scene 4 from Harold Pinter play Betrayal, on the show 'Live from Here' at the Town Hall in New York City on November 16, 2019.
[ Watch the video from 35:00 - 42:30 minutes mark. ]
“Gregory,” Mycroft murmured, sinking into his seat, moving his legs to accommodate the Inspector’s.
“Come here,” Greg whispered, pulling Mycroft’s body closer, who was now lying flat on the backseat of his JAGUAR with the Inspector on top of him. “Can he hear us?” Greg asked while sitting back, right knee resting on the seat, unbuckling Mycroft’s trousers.
“No,” Mycroft’s reply was short, definite, as he laid his head back and closed his eyes, as if in defeat.
“Don’t be so dramatic!” Greg admonished him.
“Patience is a virtue,” Mycroft sighed out, his hands reaching out to caress the Inspector’s.
[Previously: Greg meets a boy in a school party, and decides to follow his heart x]
Scene 4
Mycroft had seated himself in the backyard with the hot pudding, wishing he had brought a book, if not to read, at least as a front. He could not stop thinking of the boy who had been so open in his affection.
Hearing a rustle in the bushes he had followed the sound to find Greg peeping. Wanting to reprimand him, all thoughts of anger and fear were replaced by pure lust.
Mycroft Lost himself in the kiss as his hands roamed to that bristly hair, his body slowly shifting from his side to over Greg’s who accommodated with enthusiasm.
Evening. Melchior's bedroom. A lamp burning on the table. MELCHIOR sits alone, writing in his journal. He reads aloud as he writes.
MELCHIOR:
16 October. The question is: Shame. What is its origin? And why are we hounded by its miserable shadow? Does the mare feel Shame as she couples with a stallion? Are they deaf to everything their loins are telling them, until we grant them a marriage certificate? I think not. To my mind, Shame is nothing but a product of Education. Meanwhile, old Father Kaulbach still blindly insists, in every single sermon, that it's deeply rooted in our sinful Human Nature. Which is why I now refuse to go to Church-
FRAU GABOR calls from the hallway.
FRAU GABOR:
Melchior?
MELCHIOR: Yes, Mom?
FRAU GABOR:
Moritz Stiefel to see you.
MELCHIOR sits up. MORITZ comes through the door, looking pale and agitated.
MELCHIOR:
Moritz?
MORITZ:
Sorry I'm so late. I yanked on a jacket, ran a brush through my hair, and dashed like some phantom to get here.
MELCHIOR:
You slept through the day?
MORITZ:
I'm exhausted, Melchi. I was up till three in the morning-reading that essay you gave me, till I couldn't see straight.
MELCHIOR: Sit. You want a smoke?
MELCHIOR lights and hands MORITZ a cigarette.
MORITZ:
Look at me-I'm trembling. Last night I prayed like Christ in Gethsemane: "Please, God, give me Consumption and take these sticky dreams away from me."
MELCHIOR:
With any luck, he'll ignore that prayer.
MORITZ:
Melchi, I can't focus-on anything. Even now, it seems like ... Well, I see, and hear, and feel, quite clearly. And yet, everything seems so strange…
MELCHIOR:
But all those illustrations I gave you-didn't they help you get it?
MORITZ:
They only made everything ten times worse! Instead of just seeing Stockings, now I'm
Plagued by Labia Majora-
FRAU GABOR comes in with tea and sandwiches. MORITZ frantically puts out the cigarette, while MELCHIOR waves the smoke away.
FRAU GABOR:
Well, here we are, with tea. Herr Stiefel, how are you?
MORITZ:
Keen, thank you, Frau Gabor.
FRAU GABOR (Skeptical):
Yes?
MELCHIOR:
Just think, Mom. Moritz was up, reading all through the night.
MORITZ:
Uh, conjugating Greek.
FRAU GABOR:
You must take care of yourself, Moritz. Surely, your health is more important than Ancient Greek.
She motions at his books.
Now, what have you been reading, Melchior?
MELCHIOR:
Goethe's Faust, actually.
FRAU GABOR:
Really? At your age?
MELCHIOR: It's so beautiful, Mom.
MORITZ (nodding):
So haunting.
FRAU GABOR:
Still, I should have thought- But surely, you boys are now of an age to decide for yourselves what is good for you and what is not. (Sighs) If you need anything else, children, call me.
FRAU GABOR walks out.
MORITZ:
Well, your mother’s swell.
MELCHIOR ("Yes, but"):
Until she catches her son reading Goethe.
MORITZ:
I think she meant the story of Gretchen and her illegitimate child.
MELCHIOR:
Yes. You see how obsessively·everyone fixes on that story. It's as if the entire world was stuck on penis and vagina.
MORITZ:
Well, I am. Even more, I'm afraid, since reading your essay. What you wrote about the ... female . .. I can't stop thinking about it.
MORITZ pulls the essay out of his pocket.
This part here-is it true?
MELCHIOR:
Absolutely.
MORITZ:
But, how can you understand that, Melchi? What the girl must feel.
MELCHIOR ("Why not?"):
Giving yourself over to someone else? ... Defending yourself until, finally, you surrender and feel Heaven break over you? …
MORITZ nods, mystified.
I just put myself in her place-and imagine …
MORITZ ("You've got to be kidding"):
Really?!
He flips through the essay, one diagram after another- increasingly mesmerized
What it feels like? for the girl?
A twelve-string guitar sounds-subtle chords, a world of longing.
MELCHIOR:
Where I go, when I go there,
No more memory anymore
Only drifting on some ship;
The wind that whispers, of the distance, to shore . ..
MORITZ:
Where I go, when I go there,
No more listening anymore
Only hymns upon your lips,
A mystic wisdom, rising with them, to shore . ..
Ext. Vineyard - Evening
ERNST and HANSCHEN are studying in the vineyard. ERNST sings out in soliloquy.
ERNST:
Touch me- just like that.
And that-O, yeah-now, that's heaven.
Now, that I like.
God, that's so nice.
Now lower down, where the figs lie . ..
Int. Bedroom - Evening
MELCHIOR turns back to MORITZ. The scene shifts back to the lamplit bedroom. MORITZ is pouring over the essay.
MORITZ: ... Still, you must admit ... with all the differing ...
(Mispronouncing, with a "hard g")
geni ... geni …
MELCHIOR:
Genitalia?
MORITZ:
Genitalia. It truly is daunting-I mean, how ... everything might …
MELCHIOR:
Measure up?
MORITZ looks stricken.
Fit?
More stricken.
Moritz, not that I'm saying I myself have ever-
MORITZ:
Not that I'm saying I wouldn't want ... Would ever want to not- Would ever not want-
MELCHIOR:
Moritz?
MORITZ: I have to go!
MORITZ abruptly rushes out.
MELCHIOR: Moritz, wait!
(To himself.)
Moritz-
FRAU GABOR enters and clears the tea.
FRAU GABOR:
Melchior, what is it?
MELCHIOR:
Nothing, Mom.
FRAU GABOR:
Has Moritz gone?
MELCHIOR:
Yes.
FRAU GABOR:
Well, he does look awfully pale, don't you think? I wonder, is that Faust really the best thing for him?
FRAU GABOR exits. MELCHIOR shakes his head. He walks to his bed, and lies down, closing his eyes.
Ext. River - Evening
It’s stormy. OTTO stands on a makeshift boat, drifting down the river.
OTTO:
Where I go, when I go there,
No more shadows anymore
Only you there in the kiss;
And nothing missing, as you're drifting, to shore…
Ext. Forest - Evening
GEORG wanders in the willow forest through the rain.
GEORG:
Where I go, when I go there,
No more weeping anymore
Only in and out your lips;
The broken wishes, washing with them, to shore...
Int. Bedrooms - Evening
Three way split screen between MELCHIOR, MORITZ and WENDLA. They each lie in their beds, caressing their bodies.
MELCHIOR, MORITZ and WENDLA:
Touch me-all silent.
Tell me-please-all is forgiven.
Consume my wine.
Consume my mind.
I'll tell you how, how the winds sigh . ..
Int. Bathroom - Evening
MARTHA, in the safety and solitude of the bathtub, undoes her braids.
BOYS AND GIRLS:
Touch me
just try it
Ext. Park - Evening
ANNA and THEA run through the rainy park, hand in hand.
Now there, that’s it
God, oh, that’s heaven
Int. Bedroom - Night
HANSCHEN, in bed, reads The Iliad with a flashlight.
