Enquiry Concerning Hereafter

On the friendship between David Hume and Adam Smith

a play by Duane Kelly

"All men have need of the gods."
Homer, The Odyssey

“To philosophize is to learn how to die."
Cicero

“Ay, but to die, and go we know not where.”
Shakespeare, Measure for Measure

Enquiry Concerning Hereafter will be produced by Edinburgh Business School at Panmure House, Adam Smith’s residence in his later years, as part of the 2023 Edinburgh Fringe Festival, August 4-28. The play was originally scheduled for the 2022 festival but was not performed.

This version was updated by Duane Kelly on November 16, 2022.

Duane Kelly is a playwright who has authored 11 plays. He lives in Seattle.

NOTE: Performances and public readings of Enquiry Concerning Hereafter, professional or amateur, are subject to a royalty. Particular emphasis is laid upon the question of readings, permission for which must be secured from the author in writing. This play is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. All rights are strictly preserved.

CHARACTERS

DAVID HUME
ADAM SMITH
CHARON

TIME

August 1776 and June 1790

LOCATIONS

Two late 18th century bedrooms of prosperous gentlemen in Edinburgh

THE STORY

Two men who are the dearest of friends grieve because old age and disease are separating them, perhaps for eternity. Charon comes to take them away.

NOTES

Hume and Smith had their quirks. Hume would at times unconsciously hold a gaze with someone for longer than is customary. This tic once drove Jean-Jacques Rousseau into a fit of hysteria. This quirk is not written into the script. If actor and director choose to do something with it, take care not to overdo it.

Smith had a preoccupied air and a habit of mumbling and smiling to himself. "Absent" is a word that recurs in descriptions of him. He could lose focus in conversation. James Boswell described him as “quite a learned, accurate, absent man.” Other descriptions were “habitually attentive to familiar objects, and to common occurrences", and “the most absent man in company that I ever saw.” He also possessed remarkable powers of observation and analysis. His eccentricities do appear in the script.

The language and phrasing in this script is specific and purposefully chosen. Some phrases that may seem unusual are specific to the 18th century and others are suited to the character, including Charon. Please observe the words as written.

Hume's Scottish accent is broader than Smith's. Charon's name is pronounced "karon". He wears a cloak.

NOTATION
A dash - indicates that a speech is cut off by the next speech. Dialog in brackets [ ] is expressed nonverbally. In this script a "beat" is longer than a "pause" and a "pause" is longer than an ellipsis (. . .).

___________________________________________________

ACT 1

Sunday, August 25, 1776. In this Act Hume is age 65, Smith 53, and Charon - take a wild guess. It is late afternoon. We are in Edinburgh, in David Hume’s bedroom. A light meal has been set out in an adjoining sitting area. Crowd noises from the street rise and fall during this scene. HUME is asleep in bed, sitting up, reclining against pillows. He wears a robe. Close at hand is a short “scratch” wig, which he had removed for comfort. He had dozed off reading Lucian’s The Downward Journey. The book is visible. HUME is having a vivid dream. The scene shifts to his dream world - or does it? We now see CHARON, the boatman who ferries the recently deceased across the river Styx to the afterworld. Crows caw in the distance, as if announcing Charon. He carries a long boat pole which doubles as a staff. CHARON observes HUME, then rouses him by banging the pole on something. This startles HUME.

HUME

Who’s there?

(HUME sees CHARON, a sight he never expected. He tries to absorb what his senses seem to be perceiving. He shouts to a room off.)

HUME

(picks up the book)

HUME

Failing that, I would gladly pay a king’s ransom for you to make the rabble outside vanish.

CHARON

Sorry. [not able to do that]

So the simple boatman is also a chemist. This infernal disease has spread to the brain, upended my senses.

CHARON

(in mock test, raises hand and spreads his fingers)

(pause to think)

In the summer of your ninth year you went wandering in the fields outside Ninewells.

(pronounced nine-alls)

When you heard loud moans you slipped behind a willow tree and watched a naked shepherd and maid enjoy each other. The sheep were little curious. That scene made quite the impression on our young David. You never told a soul.

HUME

But how can [you know?]

CHARON

Before leaving on this mission I glanced in your memory chest; that was near the top.

(Now giving CHARON more credence, HUME wants to appear more formal so he puts on his wig.)

CHARON

Don’t trouble yourself. You won’t need it where we be going.

(HUME removes it. He feels his body for a heartbeat or a pulse.)

(CHARON gestures exasperation with HUME.)

HUME

I beg your patience. As far as I know, we only leave here once. From your presence one might infer that following death there is something rather than nothing. And, I don’t mind sharing, that idea holds great interest for me.

CHARON

Plenty pleased to lend a hand there.

HUME

One more thing.

CHARON

Do philosophers ever shut up?

HUME

Where we go, will I meet other souls? Can I ask Herodotus why he insisted on writing history as if it were fiction. Will there be an opportunity to debate tragedy with Aristotle? Ask Socrates whether Plato told us the truth about his death.

HUME

How long can that take?

CHARON

Sometimes forever, which be the same as never. One thing you need to understand is time works different across the river. There’s not as much energy. At first you’ll always feel cold. Everything goes slower. Souls move more like snails than mice.

HUME

This is all rather too much.

CHARON

Just be patient. There’ll be more than enough time to get used to it.

HUME

(a beat as he peers at CHARON)

HUME

Now tell me the square root of forty-nine.

(CHARON doesn’t have a clue.)

HUME

No improvement in the slightest.

(CHARON shrugs and returns the wig.)

Oh I cannot thank you enough my kind sir.

(Noises off.)

How much time will you and Professor Smith be wanting?

HUME

A few breaths only are left in me.

CHARON

But I cannot -

(Knocks are heard at the door. As SMITH enters, CHARON goes quiet; decides to step aside. SMITH is visible to CHARON, but CHARON is not visible to SMITH. CHARON observes them from the side. HUME is anxious about CHARON, including who can see whom.)

HUME

My dear Smith, thank god.

(They embrace.)

HUME

You cannot begin to know how relieved I am to see you.

SMITH

I hastened here. Peggy sent word that . . . well, I should not delay.

HUME

I have been disturbed by the most vivid dream.

(HUME glances at CHARON, who is not pleased with demotion to a dream.)

HUME

Charon himself showed up to ferry me across the river. I bade him go away ‘til after we visit.

SMITH

You need more rest.

HUME

He is a saucy, thick-headed rascal. You wouldn’t care for him.

(Sounds from the crowd outside rise in volume.)

(HUME looks to CHARON, who remains interested in their conversation.)

SMITH

What about his superior?

HUME

My influence there is less than zero.

SMITH

Could I be allowed to accompany you?

HUME

Your good health disqualifies you. All that cold swimming. (off the food)

HUME

He did not see you.

CHARON

I did not come for him.

HUME

Will he ever see you?

CHARON

When his days run out. What I can see is that your ties go deep. Perhaps you were even worthy of each other. We see that sometimes. Alright, enjoy your last supper. I will return.

HUME

But when -

(CHARON is gone. SMITH returns with a bottle and holds it out for HUME to see.)

HUME

Perfect.

(As SMITH opens the bottle and pours two glasses - )

HUME

This decrepit old frame is filled with disease. Smith, tell me, does my mind seem much disordered this afternoon?

SMITH

No more than usual. Here, this may help.

(SMITH hands him a glass.)

HUME

I am serious now. This afternoon . . . I don’t . . . I fear my mind has slipped its mooring and floats loose as my bowels.

(A beat as SMITH takes the question seriously and studies HUME’s face.)

SMITH

We all travel in the same direction, as surely as a stone tumbles down Castle Mount. I imagine the sight of the ground approaching would unsettle any man. But if you are asking me, Have you turned mad?, the plain answer is no. Trust me to advise when you stop speaking sense.

(HUME is not fully persuaded. We hear rising crowd noise, which turns into a chant:

INFIDELS WHO DON’T REPENT, STRAIGHT TO HELL WILL BE SENT.

HUME

Ugh. Their verse scans badly. Milton may rest easy in the grave. Here, help me up. This is an irksome side of our species I need to witness.

(SMITH helps HUME rise and move to the window, which is perhaps downstage, imagined by us. When they get close to the window and look down, the mob sees them and shouts angrily.)

SMITH

Step back where they can’t see.

(They retreat a pace or two. The shouting subsides. SMITH gets their glasses; they sip.)

HUME

A mob is a monster I could never abide. Bring over a chair for me to lean on.

(SMITH does so.)

HUME

HUME

William Wallace among them. Reason is an imperfect crust. With luck it may gain thickness, hold fewer imperfections, be guided by wiser passions, but progress is hardly assured. Society is a fragile thing.

SMITH

It can always use more kindness.

(SMITH gets too close to the window. When the crowd sees him, their clamor rises.)

HUME

(looks to the window)

(SMITH brings HUME a bowl of soup. SMITH eats a few things. Seeing that HUME struggles with the soup, he assists him. After a few spoonfuls, HUME declines more.)

HUME

No appetite and anyway it goes straight through me. (off the wine)

This will be my tonic for now.

(As HUME sips wine, SMITH removes from a pocket an object the size of a large coin, and looks at it.)

HUME

What have you there?

SMITH

A story I don’t believe you know.

(Beat.)

And there is this. A few years on my uncle handed it to me. Said the gypsies wanted me to have it. Told him it was an amulet with magical properties.

HUME

I can hear the tambourine. Did they speak true?

SMITH

Well, it has been fifty years now, and except for a plague of illnesses - none fatal - and a few miserable years at Oxford, on balance I have led a more or less charmed existence. That includes our friendship.

(irony)

I’m sure this had nothing to do with any of that.

HUME

May I see?

(SMITH hands him the amulet. As HUME studies it, SMITH looks toward the window and slips into an absent-minded state such as he is known for. His lips move as if he were mumbling but no sound is produced. HUME, who has seen SMITH do this on occasion, is not alarmed, and reels him back in.)

HUME

Smith . . . Smith. We were talking. Time is short. . . Smith!

(SMITH returns.)

SMITH

It will be hard. [to have you gone]

HUME

(alert to his meaning; then back to the amulet)

We dwell in a world so full of wonder that no amount of discoveries in natural history -

SMITH

Do not forget mathematics.

HUME

That too - will ever explain all.

(HUME hands back the amulet.)

(Beat.)

SMITH

Have you been able to do any work?

(HUME idly picks up the manuscript on the bed.)

HUME

(holds the manuscript)

In January when we spoke about my will, you graciously agreed to serve as trustee for my manuscripts. Including this one.

SMITH

(wary) The Dialogues?

HUME

(in a mock-formal manner)Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion by David Hume. (now normal)

I made a few last revisions and had three fresh copies made: for you, for nephew David, and for Strahan.

SMITH

If he chooses to publish it.

HUME

(alert to that) This is your copy.

(HUME extends the manuscript but SMITH declines to receive it. HUME lays it on the bed between them.)

(Their conversation gradually grows heated.)

SMITH

Surely you realize this is a powder keg.

HUME

I realize no such thing. This is hardly the first time the world has heard questions about gods and a future state.

If I expected clamor, you are the last person I would burden. Who better than I knows how you prize tranquility?

(A beat as SMITH studies HUME, who looks in the direction Charon was and then at the manuscript.)

SMITH

No questions are more fundamental to the human condition than ones in here, but society is unready.

HUME

Wealth of Nations does not avoid controversy.

HUME

(having reached the boiling point, he extends a hand toward Smith’s manuscript)

Forget it then. If ‘tis that incendiary, give it back.

SMITH

(holds the manuscript out of HUME’s reach) No, I will be glad to hold this copy.

HUME

You are the least glad person I ever set eyes on. (starts to rise from bed)

I say give the damned thing back. Before you burst into flames.

(HUME struggles out of bed.)

SMITH

David, please, you are in no condition -

(HUME reaches again for the manuscript, loses his balance, and crashes to the floor. SMITH rushes to HUME.)

SMITH

Good God! What are you thinking?!

HUME

Damn it to hell, that you are a stubborn senseless beast.

SMITH

Are you hurt?

(SMITH helps HUME rise and steers him toward the bed.)

HUME

Not the bed! I am sick to death of bed! Bring me the chair.

(SMITH does and HUME sits. SMITH brings him his glass of wine.)

HUME

You are a bloody fool. . . And my dearest friend. Though for the life of me I cannot recall why.

SMITH

(offering the manuscript) If you want it that badly, here.

HUME

(anger now more feigned than real) Why would I want it?

SMITH

Because - [you demanded it]

HUME

I have the original don’t I? You know very well that my position is and always has been skeptical, the very opposite of dogma.

(A few beats as they allow the temperature to come down.)

SMITH

David, I would ask you to kindly consider a further point. Could there be any worse time to ask this of me? Wealth of Nations is just now finding its way in the world. Perhaps with a chance to fulfill the ambitions we both hold for it. Do you now wish to put all that at risk?

(A beat to reflect.)

HUME

(disappointed)

I will board Charon’s vessel with no hope of this getting published.

SMITH

(pauses to think; frustrated)

Arghh. . . What I will promise is this: I will see it published, by someone, somewhere, while I yet breathe. But understand, in no way will my name be associated with it.

HUME

(making light)

Published somewhere other than a remote province in China.

SMITH

(a slight smile)

Not in China. Somewhere near enough to Europe to provoke the controversy you are so eager to invite. France would supply a more ready audience than England.

HUME

I’m not so sure. On this side of the Channel I am thought to have too little religion, over there I am thought to have too much. Does that cast me into limbo?

SMITH

(a joke about Catholicism and the Vatican) I refer that question to Rome.

HUME

The next time you are in Paris there is a favor, a very private matter, I could ask of you.

SMITH

Of course, anything, if I am able.

HUME

(pause)

Do you have an inkling?

SMITH

You wish me to run down Rousseau and drown him.

HUME

(laughs)

If you should cross paths with the scoundrel and water is convenient, I would have no objection.

(as he searches for something)

There is no one I would more trust than you in such a delicate matter.

(HUME locates the ring he was looking for and shows it to SMITH.)

HUME

I would like this returned to its owner.

(HUME hands the ring to SMITH. A beat as SMITH examines it.)

SMITH

Do I know the owner?

HUME

You do.

(pause)

There was a time, years ago, in France, when love - that word is not too much here - love from one who possesses as much wit and beauty as affection, saved me from total indifference to life. I had been lost in a shadow-land for a time.

SMITH

“Shadow-land”. That could serve as apt title for my years at Oxford. Melancholy seized me and I feared all doors leading out were barred.

HUME

You know the affliction.

SMITH

O indeed I do. Am I to know her name?

HUME

The Comtesse de Boufflers, Marie-Charlotte.

SMITH

I am happy for you my friend. And sorry the affair became interrupted. She made the deepest impression on all who came within her orbit. Her salon was the warmest and most lively in Paris.

HUME

Some evenings did not end for me until the sun rose. Her maid would wake us with a gentle knock on her bedchamber door and bring in coffee. Those memories have been a treasure-house I oft drew from . . . but now . . . knowing I will never see her . . .

(chooses not to finish the sentence)

I ask that you tell no one. I also have a letter for her somewhere.

(Spread out during the following is this action: HUME scans the room for the letter. His focus is on finding the letter rather than on SMITH. Thoughts of women have somehow pulled SMITH into an absent spell. He goes to the food table. As he looks mostly into the distance, he takes a roll, pulls off a bite size, butters it, dips it in his wine, and eats. He does not notice anything amiss with his bread.)

SMITH

I cannot give you a firm date but you have my promise to call on her. No one will hear a whisper of this.

HUME

(now seeing the sealed letter; points) There it is, over there. It goes with the ring.

(HUME sees that SMITH has become absently engaged with the bread and wine. As before, this sight does not alarm him; rather he is touched and amused by his eccentric friend.)

SMITH

Ah, you found it. Just a moment.

(gestures that his hands are full; continues to nibble)

The Lord grants us only one life to live.

HUME

That is the commonest view. Our lives left us all the more time for books, ideas, and companionship. Though it must be admitted books can lack for softness, curves, and bodily warmth.

SMITH

Ideas and books - they are our forebears and our children. We would be the envy of some gods.

(takes a sip of wine)

This is the poorest claret I’ve ever tasted in your house.

HUME

(bemused)

Something may have fallen in the glass.

SMITH

(swirls his glass and looks) How did you know?

HUME

Set it aside and pour a new one. You can put more in here (into Hume’s glass)

while you’re at it.

SMITH

Would the doctors approve?

HUME

A man at the end of his life may be permitted a second glass.

(SMITH refills Hume’s glass and pours himself a new one.)

SMITH

I am a doctor too, though unfortunately it’s moral philosophy, not medicine. Nevertheless I approve. You may even have a third if you desire.

HUME

(smiles)

No approbation means more to me than yours. Help me back into bed, would you please?

(SMITH does so. These men love each other. Crowd noise is heard again but at a low level. SMITH remembers the letter, puts it in a pocket, and steps toward the window. They are silent with their wine. CHARON enters from a direction HUME cannot see. SMITH cannot see CHARON regardless. CHARON silently observes.)

SMITH

(as he looks to the window)

Charon’s boat is about to pull away, isn’t it?

HUME

Do you know the lines from Pope: “A heap of dust alone remains of thee, / ‘Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be.” The doctor has promised that all shall be over soon.

This last week my infirmities have so multiplied that life has become a burden. Peggy would readily tell you just how much. Did you know you were always her favorite guest? She once remarked you possessed a kind soul and I failed to disabuse her. . . You being here is good medicine.

SMITH

(looks to HUME)

‘cept when you crash onto the floor.

(SMITH moves closer to the window. The crowd sees him; their clamor rises.)

SMITH

So vile an insect man can be. They remind just how spiteful and ill-natured.

HUME

Pshaw. I grant them no credence as an adversary. They are an ignorant hornets’ nest stirred up without cause. Here am I, who have written on all sorts of subjects calculated to excite hostility - moral, political, and religious - one book so scandalous not even you will touch it - and yet I have no enemies . . .

(pause for comic effect)

except for all the Whigs, all the Tories, and all the Christians.

(A beat as they enjoy the joke. HUME sees CHARON. Their eyes meet. HUME is slightly surprised but not alarmed.)

SMITH

Do you feel ready, David? For the undiscovered country.

HUME

The author of Hamlet presupposes a creature exists to do the discovering.

SMITH

I am inclined to think Shakespeare is right there.

HUME

But we don’t know, do we?

SMITH

Ever the skeptic.

(As SMITH is looking elsewhere, HUME looks at CHARON.)

HUME

My thoughts may be shifting in your direction. What have you and I spent our lifetime doing? Cicero put it plainly: “To philosophize is to learn how to die.” Now is my test.

(Mournful bagpipe music slowly rises and continues to end of scene. SMITH takes HUME’s hand.)

SMITH

(fighting emotion)

We arm ourselves with as much wisdom as we can find, yet even the staunchest stoic cannot keep the heart from tearing at a time like this.

HUME

Come on Smith, I believe I am the one dying.

SMITH

And who is now condemned to live in a world without his brother? . . . I don’t know how it will be [with you gone] .

. . I don’t wish to let go.

HUME

Please hand me my wig.

(SMITH is puzzled by this request but with his free hand gives him the wig. HUME now addresses CHARON, invisible to SMITH.)

HUME

Oh that’s right, there’s no need.

(SMITH is confused but lets it slide. HUME sets the wig aside. He lifts his and SMITH’s joined hands and squeezes. Their eyes meet. HUME stops breathing. HUME’s head goes slack. He has died. As SMITH fights grief, CHARON approaches the bed. SMITH kisses HUME and slides down his eyelids. From his pocket SMITH retrieves the gypsy amulet, kisses it, and places it in HUME’s mouth. He draws the sheet up over HUME’s head. Grief-stricken, he embraces the shrouded body. In the following, from SMITH’S perspective HUME’s body remains present and still under the sheet. SMITH is unable to see or hear CHARON nor does HUME appear to move. CHARON pulls down the sheet, confirms that an obol rests under HUME’s tongue, and removes it. He briefly examines this obol because it’s an odd one, shrugs that he guesses it will do, and pockets it. CHARON then lightly touches HUME. HUME opens his eyes and looks at CHARON.)

It is time.

CHARON

(HUME nods that he understands. With CHARON guiding him by the arm, HUME rises and they exit. SMITH is left alone. Lights fade.)

END OF ACT ONE

ACT 2

Fourteen years later. Sunday, July 17, 1790. Early evening. We are in Adam Smith’s bedroom at Panmure House, his home in Edinburgh. Smith, now age 67, is weak and near death. This Act opens with SMITH asleep in bed, reclining against pillows. He wears a wig. He had dozed off working on papers containing handwritten notes. These are visible. CHARON enters. As he does so, crows caw outside. CHARON goes to a window to observe the birds. He waves his pole in their direction and they abruptly go silent. Throughout this Act crows are heard now and then in the distance. CHARON turns to SMITH and silently observes him. He then rouses him by banging his pole on something. This startles SMITH.

SMITH

(Seeing CHARON, SMITH struggles to absorb what his senses are telling him. He scrambles out of bed and retreats. He shouts to a room off.)

Who's there? Peggy!

(to CHARON)

(now tries another angle for testing Charon; off the papers on the bed)

Yes. Is the vessel your private property?

(SMITH sees that CHARON is confused.)

SMITH

(to clarify)

Do you own your boat? Or receive free use of it, or pay a rent?

CHARON

What I may say is my ferry is ancient and esteemed for its history of grand passengers. Anyone who dares use it without permission, why this pole would whack them something fierce.

(CHARON demonstrates by striking something. SMITH flinches.)

(CHARON bangs his pole on the floor three times.)

CHARON

(shouting off) You may join us.

(HUME enters.)

HUME

Hello my dear Smith. What a delight.

SMITH

(overwhelming amazement) This is entirely too much for one dying man. (to HUME) My senses have played me double-false - first him, then (grasps his head)

SMITH

(to HUME)

Yes our lovely Peggy Irvine. She’s up in years with a weak heart. After you left I offered her employment helping care for Mother and overseeing my household. She was a godsend.

HUME

Good good and triple good. That pleases me no end.

CHARON

While you two be pleasing yourselves no end, I’ll take a look around. I’ve never seen so many books under one roof. Be back before too long.

(CHARON exits.)

SMITH

(peering at him; hoping for assurance)

(still discombobulated)

I believe I should miss strawberries.

HUME

It is shameful (because it implies wish that Smith dies) how I wish you to rejoin me on the other side. What affliction has brought you to Charon’s attention?

SMITH

A pain all through here

(gestures to his abdomen)

has plagued me for months and gets no better. When I insisted on candor, the doctor said I should take care that all my affairs are in order. That was candor enough.

(shows HUME a medicine bottle)Did you have experience with Clinker’s laxative?

(pointedly)

And simply. Your noble manner of passing inspired me to report it in a letter to Strahan. He persuaded me the world deserved to know how David Hume died, and so I permitted him to publish it. I have it around somewhere.

(locates it)

How seditious does this sound?

HUME

Seditious?

HUME

Where is that?

SMITH

Some fifteen miles from Kirkcaldy. I needed to ask the way home.

HUME

A goodly time has now lapsed since my funeral. Am I still remembered?

SMITH

Remembered? My good friend, have you lost all sense? You are spoken of in the same breath as Socrates and Newton and Cicero. Whenever present-day Edinburgh is boasted as the Athens of the eighteenth century, you are the first reason why. Not only are you remembered, a great many still miss you.

(A cawing of crows rises. The noise draws them to a window. The cawing peters out.)

HUME

(looking toward the crows)

(not satisfied)

Has your portrait been painted by anyone?

SMITH

(pause)

There are one or two credible sketches.

(SMITH locates and shows a simple printed sketch of himself.)

(SMITH finds a newspaper and plops it before HUME.)

SMITH

HUME

(lightly applauds in good humor)

Thank you for the enlightened lecture, Professor Smith. What humanity requires on its menu is skepticism, humility, moderation, distrust of grand schemes -

SMITH

Do not forget self-command.

HUME

And sympathy. With a bit of luck, at the end of that virtuous meal, our species just might find itself dwelling in a less imperfect world. That would be no mean accomplishment. Do you have any idea how much I have missed you?

SMITH

(allows himself to be moved)

One reason I’ve enjoyed having Peggy here is she reminds me of you.

HUME

(a pause to enjoy that sentiment)

HUME

You should be flogged for arson. . . Even though the world will not be able to enjoy your science of man treatise, have you ever stopped to think how strange that in an epoch when Scotland has lost its lairds, our own parliament, our independent government; when we were maligned for our accent and pronunciation; spoke - nay continue to speak - a very corrupt dialect of English; is it not strange that in these circumstances a wide number of our authors have become most distinguished for literature in Europe? My Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, did that orphan ever get hatched into the world?

(SMITH searches for a book. As he shuffles about, he grimaces with pain.)

HUME

You should go back to bed.

SMITH

Na, it won’t be long now. And I’m accustomed to the discomfort.

(SMITH locates the book and hands it to HUME.)

SMITH

Your nephew, with me advising from behind the curtain, handled the business ably. Strahan was tired of scandal so he passed, but we found a printer here happy to take it on.

HUME

Thank you, Smith. This would not have happened without you. (examining the book)

The printer did a capable job.

SMITH

We were pleased.

HUME

How was it received?

SMITH

Praise in some quarters; from others, rebukes for more blasphemy from the Great Infidel. A journal in Germany expressed regret that - I think I have this right - you had flung a stain on the otherwise beautiful canvas of your character.

HUME

(a laugh)

At least they thought my character tolerable before. Is it sacrilege to explore whether the existence of God could be established by natural law, without recourse to revelation or superstition?

SMITH

Is this really an apt time?

(Ignoring this, HUME thumbs pages, chances upon a passage, and reads. As HUME continues to focus on the book, SMITH slips into an absentminded state such as we saw in Act One.He looks into the distance and his lips move as if he were mumbling but there’s no sound.)

HUME

(reading)

Here is the character Cleanthes. “You ask me, what caused the creator? I know not; I care not; that concerns not me. I have found a deity; and here I stop my inquiry. Let those go farther, who are wiser or more enterprising.”

(shifting his gaze toward SMITH, but with his attention still mostly on the book)

I have not seen these words in fourteen years and though I commit the sin of conceit I believe this book to be one of the finest things my pen ever spilled.

(now realizing that SMITH’s mind has wandered; sharply)

Smith.

(SMITH returns.)

HUME

SMITH

Have you abandoned all doubt in Hades? You know you cannot trust a playwright. Their habit is to invent stories.

HUME

I consider myself a fair judge of sincerity.

SMITH

Pshaw. Though I will grant ‘tis a good story – and a potent reminder to wear one’s wig outdoors. . . My energy is escaping. Where is your rascal with the boat?

HUME

Let’s hope he hasn’t abandoned us. What would that reveal?

SMITH

That a ghost of David Hume can supply a most entertaining vision. Come help me to bed.

(HUME does so. He props SMITH up with pillows.)

HUME

Might mortal belief in gods be something like a magic trick? Self-administered. Here, while we wait for the ferryman, let me amuse you. A magician in Hades taught me a few tricks.

SMITH

(still trying to discern the reality here)

Would that have been before or after your Greek playwright? I have never been an enthusiast for magic tricks.

HUME

I am strictly amateur but please make an effort. It will distract the pain.

SMITH

If I fall asleep, feel free to wake me. If that be possible.

(HUME holds up the Dialogues book.)

HUME

What do you see here?

(SMITH is not getting into the spirit of this.)

HUME

Come on, Smith. Show some life.

SMITH

Forgive me if confidence in my senses goes lacking today.

HUME

But a magician needs an audience.

SMITH

Alright, a book is perhaps what I see.

HUME

One that I hear is finely written.

(HUME holds the book upside down by the spine, and leafs through the downward facing pages.)

HUME

Would you agree it is intact and contains nothing but pages?

SMITH

And scandal.

HUME

You are not cooperating.

SMITH

From my supine, skeptical position, yes I would agree.

(HUME now holds the book in the normal reading position and pretends to read.)

HUME

Once upon a time there was a prince and princess who became separated by a storm so violent on an ocean so vast that they were lost to each other. This cast a heavy, dark spell everywhere, and most especially upon the sad prince. Then one day he discovered a book. When he opened it, he found -

(In the ta-da manner of a magician, HUME extracts from the book the Comtesse’s ring and holds it out for SMITH to see. SMITH glances to the furniture where the ring had been.)

HUME

He saw it was the ring the princess wore.

SMITH

Children might call that a miracle.

HUME

That is how a magician counts success. (back to the improvised fairytale)

The ring lightened the prince’s heart beyond measure. Though fate never brought the lovers back together, for all the rest of his days the prince kept the ring close, clasped it to his heart daily, and never forgot his beloved.

(CHARON enters, unseen by HUME and SMITH. He keeps his distance and observes.)

HUME

One last story.

SMITH

Your prince puts me in mind of a ball.

(pause)

HUME

Yes?

SMITH

I don’t know that you ever attended one. Did you?

HUME

In Paris, and once in London. My dancing drew more fright than praise from the ladies.

SMITH

I never did. Now, I cannot help but wonder, did I cheat myself?

HUME

(tenderly) I don’t imagine.

(back to the book) May I? [continue]

SMITH

Please.

(HUME turns to a later page in the book and pretends to read.)

HUME

The prince is now a stooped old fellow. He is helping his dearest friend pack for a long and uncertain journey. There have been tears because this may be their final hour together. When the prince asks where is the money for the trip, his friend, who it must be admitted possessed an absent side, grew alarmed - his purse is nowhere to be found. How will he pay for the boat passage? Then the prince happens to see another book.

(sniffs the book) One that smells of dusty shelves in old dark libraries. (turns to another part of the book, which he now pretends to be the newfound, antique book)

When he opens it, lo and behold

(In another ta-da gesture, HUME pulls from the book Smith’s gypsy amulet and holds it up.)

HUME

he finds a coin so rare and valuable it could buy passage round the world.

SMITH

(now impressed) Where did you get that?

HUME

(pause)

The magician taught me the first rule of his trade is never reveal a secret. The audience may believe they desire the secret, but here is the truth: they want most of all - a miracle.

SMITH

Ah, that desire is midwife to religion.

HUME

He said if we believe in illusion enough, it will become truth.

SMITH

(recalling Horatio’s line to the Ghost early in Hamlet)

“Stay, Illusion!”

Is it true there are gods, some of whom are less than pleased with David Hume and myself?

(Not wanting to go down that path again, CHARON shrugs.)

SMITH

If there is an “over there” over there, of some shape and hue, and if he

(Hume)

possesses a measure of real-ness, I would prefer the two of us stay together. Might the boatman have any counsel?

(CHARON ponders. He takes the Dialogues book from HUME and looks at a page or two. Then he looks at SMITH and HUME.)

CHARON

Fresh out of counsel. . . Could have a story though.

SMITH

Let’s hear that.

CHARON

(as he tells the tale, he holds the book but doesn’t look at it)

Once upon a time in a dark forest far, far away, magpies were being threatened by a pair of eagles.

SMITH

What are their names?

CHARON

Not part of the story. Having discovered the magpies’ nests high in the trees, the eagles began raiding them to eat their eggs and nestlings. The magpies realized something must be done or their flock would perish. Scouts found the eagles’ nest in a lofty snag at the edge of the forest. The magpies made counter-raids, diving down on the eagles in noisy unison. This angered the eagles no end but failed to separate them or drive them away. One night, deep in the forest, the magpies convened their grand council. Ideas and arguments and fury crackled through the trees but no plan was good. Their chac-chac-chac-ing was stopped by a hoo-hooo. Hidden in branches at the edge of their meeting was an owl. She asked if they would care to hear her idea. They readily agreed. The owl asked had they ever known an eagle to bother a wren’s nest. Of course no one had. Where do the clever wrens build their nests?, the owl asked. Low enough in the trees where the eagles, hindered by their big wings, cannot penetrate.

Deciding she had said enough for one night, the owl gave a final hoo-hooo and flew away to find her dinner in the farmer’s field.

The magpies soon built new nests lower and where the branches grew thick. The eagles no longer raided them. After this trouble, whenever magpies found themselves with an extra bit of food, they would set it on a branch near the owl’s hollow.

(CHARON stops the tale and sets down the book. An expectant beat.)

SMITH

Is that it?

(CHARON just looks at him.)

SMITH

Thank you but I fail to see how that sheds light on my predicament.

CHARON

All I had was a story, you said you wanted a story, so I gave you a story.

(CHARON goes to the window and looks out. Crows see him and caw appreciatively. They enjoyed his story.)

SMITH

(to HUME)

Do you find sense here?

HUME

‘Tis a charming folktale from god-knows-where.

(Mournful bagpipe music begins to be heard and gradually rises to end of play.)

CHARON

You will have forever to ponder these things.

SMITH

Forever? That be another mystery - (to HUME) In the hereafter, have you penetrated infinity? (meaning: developed a deeper understanding of it)

HUME

As much a mystery as ever.

(wry)

No end to that one.

(SMITH reacts with a weak smile.)

(formal) Now is time to go.

CHARON

(HUME extends his hand, intending to offer SMITH reassurance by holding his hand.SMITH is hesitant; draws back his hand. Their eyes lock for a beat or two. Then SMITH advances his hand to allow HUME to meet it and hold it.)

SMITH

I know not where we go but am glad we go together.

(Holding each other’s gaze, HUME squeezes SMITH’S hand reassuringly. SMITH dies. HUME closes SMITH’s eyes and kisses him. CHARON gently opens SMITH’S jaw to collect the obol. It’s not there.)

HUME

Aye, here it is.

(HUME takes the amulet from his pocket and hands it to CHARON. CHARON has doubts about this obol but decides to let it slide. He pockets it. HUME and CHARON help SMITH rise and lead him off. After a few steps, CHARON lets HUME lead SMITH alone while he hangs back and, without HUME or SMITH seeing this, deftly picks up the Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion book and slips it under his cloak. CHARON rejoins HUME and SMITH as all three exit.)