ACT I
SCENE I
A studio in Tite Street, Chelsea, London. Spring, 1944.
When the CURTAIN rises MONTGOMERY, wearing his well-known beret with two badges, is moving round, inspecting the contents of the studio ā the pictures on the walls and on the floor, the furniture. The young Guardsā COLONEL stands there watching him.
MONTY: (Halting in his promenade, addressing the Colonel.) How much longer is this fellow going to keep us waiting?
COLONEL: Heāll be here any moment, sir, Iām sure.
MONTY: What time was the appointment made for?
COLONEL: Ten fifteen, sir.
MONTY: (Looking at his watch.) Well, itās ten sixteen now. (He resumes his pacing. He picks up a dirty glass and puts it down and then runs a finger down a piece of furniture and notes the dust thereon. Holding up his dirty finger.) Look at that! Heās late, heās dirty and he drinks. And there are women in it somewhere.
COLONEL: Youāre dead on target, sir, as usual.
MONTY: Whatās the name again?
COLONEL: John, sir.
MONTY: John what?
COLONEL: John nothing, sir. His nameās Augustus John. And Johnās the surname.
MONTY: Thereās a fellow in the Navy called John, with a fancy name.
COLONEL: Thatās right, sir. Caspar. Heās his son.
MONTY: Poor fellow. Heās a captain, isnāt he?
COLONEL: Thatās right, sir.
MONTY: I donāt know which this room smells of worst, drink or tobacco.
COLONEL: Heās a first-class artist, sir. He got the OM for it recently.
MONTY: I canāt see why.
COLONEL: Well, look at that, sir. (He points at a picture on the wall of the studio.)
MONTY: I am looking at it.
COLONEL: Well, itās good, sir, isnāt it?
MONTY: Itās not by him ā¦ Unless he signs himself Gwen!
COLONEL: Sorry my mistake, sir. Thatās his sister.
MONTY: Was that her who let us in?
COLONEL: No, sir. Sheās dead.
MONTY: Well, whoās the woman?
COLONEL: Sheās Dorelia. Sheās famous.
MONTY: What for?
COLONEL: Well, sheās been the model for a lot of his best pictures.
MONTY: Since when?
COLONEL: Since his wife died, sir, if not before.
MONTY: When did his wife die?
COLONEL: Years ago, sir. Quite a bit before the first war.
MONTY: Have you done a course on John or something?
COLONEL: No, sir. I was taught about him at school.
MONTY: Heās as good as that, then, is he?
COLONEL: Better, sir. Heās probably our greatest artist.
MONTY: Thatās what the art master told you, is it?
COLONEL: Yes, sir.
MONTY: What else did he tell you?
COLONEL: That he broke his first wifeās heart.
MONTY: Is that authenticated?
COLONEL: Donāt ask me, sir. The art master said he was a womanizer and he always had been.
MONTY: What was she called?
COLONEL: Ida ā Ida Nettleship.
MONTY: And what was she like?
COLONEL: The art master told us that she was the perfect wife for somebody who didnāt want one.
MONTY: Poor girl! Why did she die so young?
COLONEL: After childbirth, sir.
MONTY: (Jerking a thumb towards the door.) Then he picked up this woman?
COLONEL: Heād picked her up already, sir. According to the art master Dorelia and Ida and Augustus were great friends.
MONTY: A mĆ©nage Ć trois, you mean.
COLONEL: Thatās a fairly modest estimate, Iād say, sir, when you take in all his other mistresses and models.
MONTY: Quite a harem, eh?
COLONEL: Oh, yes, sir, over the years.
MONTY: And you learned all this from the art master at school, did you?
COLONEL: Yes, sir.
MONTY: And youāve not forgotten it?
COLONEL: No, sir.
MONTY: Why not?
COLONEL: Because I found it fascinating, sir.
MONTY: Why?
COLONEL: Why not, sir?
MONTY: Because you want to be an artist or because you want to be a lecher when this war is over?
COLONEL: Iād like to be an artist, sir.
MONTY: And not a lecher?
COLONEL: No, sir.
MONTY: Well, you may not find it easy. Artists live on the excuse that they must have a free hand or they canāt paint. And, from what Iāve seen of you Iād say you were a steady and straightforward fellow with a pretty wife and pretty little daughter. And from that I would deduce you wouldnāt want a free hand. So youād better cut the artist out and stick to soldiering. And finish up a general like me! How would you like that?
COLONEL: Not much, sir.
MONTY: So youād rather be an artist.
COLONEL: Yes, sir.
MONTY: Youād rather be Augustus John than me,...