Implied Consent: Act II, Scene I

This is a part of Mr. Stolyarov's play, Implied Consent. To navigate through the various parts of the play, go here.

(Enter EDWARD MARK into the ballroom of the Grummond Mansion, where a reception is being held, with an abundance of guests in attendance, most of whom are either standing or moving about in a frenzy. On a marble bench to the side sits VICTORIA GRUMMOND, bent slightly forward, with her elbow on her knee and the hand of the same arm entwined around her chin. It would be fitting here to have two spotlights, one on MARK, the other on VICTORIA, to distinguish them from the remainder of those on stage.)

MARK (approaching one of the guests ): Excuse me, might you inform me of the location of Miss Victoria Grummond?

GUEST: She is hard to miss; she is the lady in the unique gown, sitting on that bench in the form of a statue rather than a person.

MARK (senses something improper about the last statement, but is not yet sure quite what constitutes the impropriety. He might demonstrate his unease by pausing a bin prior to his response and then completing it at a pace more rapid than normal): Well, thank you for your help. (He departs from the GUEST's company promptly and makes his way through the throng of others present, until he reaches VICTORIA's side. While he is walking to her, the sounds of a piano become audible, and a melody begins to emerge.)

MARK: Excuse me, Miss Grummond-

VICTORIA: Wait... The melody is just beginning to develop... (quickly, being eager to return to focusing entirely on the music) Sit beside me and listen.

(MARK sits and eventually his hand also moves to his chin, and his eyes focus upward in inspiration. The piece they hear is an ambitious and dignified one, one whose contemplation will lead the mind to the most radiant and heroic thoughts. I leave it to you, Mr. Schlegel, to compose it and create for it a fitting title. Perhaps it could even be as long as 4-5 minutes, long enough to capture the audience's attention and hold it.)

VICTORIA (after composition ends): Works such as this leave one with the answer to that eternal inquiry into the meaning of life.

MARK: But whose life?

VICTORIA. Yours, if you choose to live it.

MARK (with calm but inspired resolution): I choose it.

VICTORIA: Then come with me. Let us no more dissolve our individualities in the tumult of this gathering, for, in it, each of us in but a fraction, his purpose divided among a multiplicity of interactions at once. They may all be worthy people, you having approached me from their midst, after all, but what of their worth can we fathom from throwing around a casual exchange here, a cliché there, interspersed with a few prefabricated conventional utterances besides? When you wish to speak to a person in earnest, no less than absolute attention on both sides will suffice. (As they walk to the front of the stage, a screen might be used to conceal the other guests from view, indicating that MARK and VICTORIA are now alone.)

MARK: Does this undivided focus apply not only to the people one deals with, but also to the things one delves into?

VICTORIA: To all things. If you cannot give an undertaking the entire devotion of your mind during the time you pursue it, do not even try it, for you shall not accomplish your aim. The first and most basic choice your mind faces is to focus or not, and if you default on that one, you cannot expect to successfully make any other choice, more complex than yet based on the first. May I, for a moment, focus on your name and learn it?

MARK: I am Edward Mark.

VICTORIA (her eyes assume a genuine glow of delight): Hmmm... that name has grand endeavors fused into its every letter, endeavors which have everywhere followed its bearer, and yet have preceded him in reaching my attentions.

MARK: Endeavors tidily concluded, as well, with enough finality put into them that, were history books written about them today, their content would not differ much from what later generations would say of my work in hindsight.

VICTORIA: Your work can never be finished while you still live. You do not have in you the capacity to just let go. I did not know my great-uncle very well, and I have only met you now, but this is not a quality that I can miss when observing men of that sort. It is present in your every movement and choice, even in your decision to approach me here. You surely did not come to flirt; men such as you do not flirt. You have a grave and earnest matter to address, and I dare suggest it is the matter everybody seems interested in these days.

MARK: It is. Whatever my endeavor may be at this time, it is my curiosity on this subject that drives it.

VICTORIA: Your endeavor is larger than you suspect, and involves discoveries far greater in scope than itself. You wish to ask me, "What do you know of Quintus Grummond?", when you should truly be asking me, "What do you know of man?" And who is man, anyway? Where does his existence begin, and where does it end? How is it that one entity can be considered a man, yet not another? What distinguishes them? What is life, and what is a life worth living? What things can be alive and yet not men, and how?

MARK: This is deep.

VICTORIA (smiles at him in an understanding manner, devoid of mockery): To a child who first learns to swim, each stroke his hand makes into the water is of a depth he can yet hardly fathom. We are still at the very surface of this matter, Mr. Mark, and I have only asked the questions. Most men would feign wisdom and seem profound when asking questions is all they do, not even pretending to propose any resolution to the problems they identify. Yet we are not meant to dwell in perpetual mystery and darkness, and it is only the answers to those questions that can enlighten us and dispel our doubts. Asking them is important, true, but if one does solely that, one only passes his hand over the outermost film of water, absolutely unprepared to dive in and claim the sunken treasure beneath. You must answer these questions, Mr. Mark, and answer them in full for yourself. Do not expect anyone else to do that task for you. Others may deliberate, suggest, hint, and even put forth a full-length theory. But whether or not you accept what they say is your decision entirely, and one that you should never allow anyone else to make. Do not accept without understanding-that is my advice to you.

MARK: I shall hold it most highly.

(Enter SERVANT, briskly)

SERVANT: My apologies, Miss Grummond (performs a quick ceremonious nod to VICTORIA), Sir (nods at MARK), but Mr. Roberts has requested the presence of all the guests in the ballroom. He has arranged a major announcement to the press and to all those invited on a matter that he says most deeply concerns us all.

VICTORIA: Thank you, good sir. We shall be there momentarily. (To MARK) Some of the answers may be closer to us than we suspect. Accompany me. I shall be most interested to have you at my side in examining this.

To read other parts of Implied Consent, go here.