Voyage. Tom Stoppard

       In the garden, Liubov and Varenka have settled on the bench. Varenka stands up decisively.

      VARENKA I'm going to ask him.

      LIUBOV No!

      VARENKA Well, stay here where he can see you reading.

      LIUBOV I won't fling myself at him.

      VARENKA Loosen your hair a little.

      LIUBOV Varenka, don't …

      VARENKA I won't, I won't.

       Varenka leaves. Liubov sits and opens her book.

      STANKEVICH The inner life is more real, more complete, than what we call reality—which has no meaning independent of my observing it. (pausing to look) I look out of the window. What is my thought experience? A garden. Trees. Grass. A young woman in a chair reading a book. I think: if there were no chair she would fall on the grass. If there were no book she would not be reading. Now the young woman touches her hair where it's come undone. How can we be sure there is a world of phenomena, a woman reading in a garden? Perhaps the only thing that's real is my sensory experience, which has the form of a woman reading—in a universe which is in fact empty! But Kant says no—I cannot have the experience without there being something out there to cause the experience. In fact, a woman reading. Am I, therefore, no more than an instrument for registering the phenomenal world of appearances, a woman now closing her book and standing up? But again Kant says—no! Because what I perceive as reality includes concepts which I cannot experience through the senses. Time and space. Cause and effect. Relations between things. These concepts already exist in my mind, I must use them to make sense of what I observe. And thus my existence is necessary to a complete description of reality. Without me there is something wrong with this picture. The trees, the grass, the woman are merely—oh, she's coming! (nervously) She's coming in here!—I say, don't leave!—where are you going?

      MICHAEL Father's looking for me anyway … (gloomily) I've had to ask him to settle a few debts here and there in the world of appearances, so now he's been busy getting me a job.

       Liubov enters from the garden, with her book.

      LIUBOV Oh—Michael!—(noticing Stankevich) Excuse me—

      MICHAEL Nobody seems to understand Stankevich and I are engaged in a life-or-death struggle over material forces to unite our spirit with the Universal—and he has to go back to Moscow tomorrow! (as Liubov makes to leave) No, it doesn't matter now. (to Stankevich) The Provincial Governor is father's friend, so it follows that I should have an inky job in the civil service, and think myself lucky after my distinguished career in the military.

      LIUBOV You'll only be in Tver, we'll see you often.

      MICHAEL Alas, it is not to be. Nicholas and I intend to go to Berlin, to the fountainhead.

      LIUBOV But how will you live?

      MICHAEL Oh, I can teach … mathematics—I don't know, what does it matter? (earnestly) You see, Liubov, I'm one of those who are born for their time. I will do such things I know not, but I must sacrifice everything to that sacred purpose, to strengthen my resolve until I can say, ‘Whatever I want, that's what God wants.’ (leaving, airily) I'll explain it all to Father.

       Michael goes out. Stankevich is at a loss, Liubov no less so. Stankevich tidies up his books. Presently there are faintly heard the sounds of a gigantic row from a distant room. It goes on for some time, then stops. Liubov is on the point of speaking when the door is flung open and Tatiana and Alexandra rush in speaking over each other.

      TATIANA AND ALEXANDRA Oh, Liubov!—Did you hear? Michael and Papa—Oh!—Sorry!—It's nothing!—

       They are hardly in before they're out. Stankevich is about to speak when Varvara hurries into the room.

      VARVARA (without pausing, to Liubov) Now he thinks he's God!

       Varvara crosses the room and leaves. Stankevich loses his nerve and makes to leave.

      LIUBOV So you're going to Moscow tomorrow.

      STANKEVICH Yes. (Blurts.) It's a long time since you came to the Philosophical Circle. We miss the … feminine viewpoint.

      LIUBOV (haplessly) Doesn't Natalie Beyer still go?

      STANKEVICH (mistaking her, coldly) I … I understand your meaning. …

      LIUBOV (panicking miserably) I didn't mean any meaning!

       Stankevich hastily starts gathering his books. Liubov snatches one up at random.

      LIUBOV (cont.) May I borrow this? To read. (She examines the title.) Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten. Is it good?

      STANKEVICH It's in German.

      LIUBOV Ich weiss. [I know.]

      STANKEVICH Yes … yes, of course, if you wish. But you have a book. Is it philosophy?

      LIUBOV No. I don't know. It's only a novel, by George Sand.

      STANKEVICH The philosopher of love.

      LIUBOV Yes, she says love is the highest good.

      STANKEVICH Perhaps in France. Kant says the only good actions are those performed out of a sense of duty, not from instinct … like passion or desire …

      LIUBOV So to act out of love can never be good?

      STANKEVICH In the sense that you cannot take moral credit from it. Because you are really pleasing yourself.

      LIUBOV Even if it gives happiness to another?

      STANKEVICH Yes. Consequences don't come into it.

      LIUBOV And to act out of a sense of duty, even if it leads to unhappiness … ?

      STANKEVICH Is a moral action, yes.

      LIUBOV (timidly) In Germany.

      STANKEVICH (insistently) In the system of Kant a man is judged only by his intention.

      LIUBOV (still timidly) A fool can mean well.

      STANKEVICH (bursts out) And usually does! How was I to know that Natalie Beyer mistook my intentions? I only talked to her about philosophy!

      LIUBOV Yes. Only another fool would make that mistake.

       She takes the little penknife from her pocket and holds it out to him.

      LIUBOV (cont.) I found this. I think it's your penknife.

      STANKEVICH Mine? No, it's not mine.

      LIUBOV Oh. Didn't you lose one?

      STANKEVICH No. (Pause.) Perhaps I should have one.

      LIUBOV Yes. Well, you can …

       Michael bursts in with a bulging satchel over each shoulder.

      MICHAEL We're leaving!

       He puts one satchel over Stankevich's shoulder, as Tatiana, Alexandra and Varenka rush