Original Script
Dec 28, 2015 11:16:13 GMT
Post by joannem on Dec 28, 2015 11:16:13 GMT
This story works well as a horror two hander and offers some nice opportunities for sound design. I like the structure of it as a gradual descent into horror and that the situation is driven by more than circumstance.
Main Characters
Kennedy – A young, ambitious English archaeologist.
Burger – An older German (or American for the purposes of our production) archaeologist
Other parts
Woman – A young woman.
Man - A young man.
Note on the sound
There are 3 distinct soundscapes to be drawn in terms of echo and atmosphere – a drawing room, the crisp night of Rome a century ago and the cramped catacombs.
A train carriage
F/X A steam train whistles as it clatters over the tracks. A newspaper rustles.
Man: A rum business.
Woman: I'm sorry?
Man: Oh, excuse me, just a story in my paper happened to catch my eye. A minor happenstance in Rome.
Woman: Rome?
Man: You know the city?
Woman: No, I... I've been a little out of touch of late.
Man: It's of no account. A kerfuffle in the catacombs or some such nonsense.
Woman: The catacombs? May I see?
Man: I'm sure it's not fit for women's eyes, but of course...Be my guest.
F/X A newspaper is flicked open.
Woman: Most obliged. (Internal monologue as she reads the story) One of the most interesting discoveries of recent years is that of the new catacomb in Rome, which lies some distance to the east of the well-known vaults of St. Calixtus. The finding of this important burial-place, which is exceeding rich in most interesting early Christian remains, is due to the energy and sagacity of… Dr. Julius Burger, the young German specialist, who is rapidly taking the first place as an authority upon ancient Rome. Although the first to publish his discovery, it appears that a less fortunate…
An outdoor Cafe. Rome. 1912.
Burger: So, what do you make of my basket of trinkets?
Kennedy: Trinkets? You know full well the import of - or do you, I wonder? Could I perhaps offer some assistance in their interpretation?
Berger: Interpretation? Perhaps. Can you translate this inscription? I took a copy from the stone.
Kennedy: "Here, if you would know, lie heaped together a whole crowd of holy ones..."
Berger: Quite so. Your Latin is immaculate.
Kennedy: You took notes of the rest? I take it there are more artifacts? Many more?
Burger: Perhaps.
Kennedy: Look here, Burger, I do wish you would confide in me.
Burger: Confide what, my friend?
Kennedy: This sundry bric-a-brac are the merest sweepings of some much greater treasure trove. You’ve clearly happened upon a discovery of the first order. Come now, I won't interfere with your triumph, but I should very much like to know more. The inscriptions alone will make a sensation throughout Europe.
Burger: There is more to it, I must confess.
Kennedy: I knew it!
Burger: So many that a dozen savants might labour a lifetime on their study.
Kennedy: No!
Burger: And build a reputation as solid as the Castle of St. Angelo.
Kennedy: You have given yourself away, Burger!
Berger: How so?
Kennedy: Your words can only mean one thing. You have stumbled upon a new catacomb. No other place could conceal so vast a store of relics.
Burger: I cannot say more.
Kennedy: I knew it! Where is it?
Burger: Ah, leave me one last secret, my dear Kennedy. Suffice to say it remains hidden beyond a chance in a million of rediscovery. Its date appears to be unique, and I fancy its deepest vault was reserved for the burial of none but the highest early Christians.
Kennedy: This is astounding!
Burger: Quite so. The treasures there interred are quite different from anything we, or rather you, have ever seen.
Kennedy: Were they not plundered in antiquity?
Burger: They appears intact, which is why I must guard their secrecy. The scoundrels here would strip it bare in a trice.
Kennedy: And you've not said a word?
Burger: Not one, before now.
Kennedy: I could help you catalogue the artifacts. You said the task was beyond any single man.
Burger: I have little else to occupy my time.
Kennedy: Such treasures belong to the world! We are departmental colleagues after all.
Burger: But colleagues must always be rivals Kennedy. Were I not all too aware of your passion and energy, my friend, I would not hesitate, under strictest pledge of secrecy, to offer you a little more. But, now I have your confirmation of their import, I'm afraid I must prepare my own monograph on the matter before I expose myself to such formidable competition.
Kennedy: Look here, Burger. You have my word, you can trust me implicitly. Nothing would induce me to commit pen to paper without your express permission.
Burger: All the same...
Kennedy. I quite understand your feelings, perfectly natural old chap, but you have nothing whatever to fear. On the other hand...
Burger: Yes?
Kennedy: Well, if you don't share your secret I would not rest until I found it for myself.
Burger: Indeed?
Kennedy: I would have no option but to undertake a most systematic and exhaustive search. I get what I want, Burger, and sooner rather than later. I should most certainly discover your treasure trove for myself and, in that case, I would have no prior obligation.
Burger: So, you would have me share the glory?
Kennedy: Anything but. I merely offer to lighten your labour but the glory rightly remains yours.
Burger: Well, undue discretion has done me little favour in the past. Is that really all you desire?
Kennedy: I crave only your trust, perhaps a little information.
Burger: If I asked the same, would you so readily supply it?
Kennedy: Of course my dear fellow! Without reserve or hesitation! When did you ever want for help from me? You remember, I am sure, the copious material I shared for your paper on the temple of the Vestals.
Burger: Quite so, quite so, but if I were to ask some more intimate thing would you be so accomodating? This new catacomb is very close to my heart. To trust you with its secret, I might expect some equal confidence in return.
Kennedy: Alas, I have no such grand discovery to offer you.
Burger: Indeed. How could you? Perhaps we had best conclude our meeting.
Kennedy: Surely there is some way I can prove my oath to you?
Burger: As you will. If you have no professional intelligence of equal import, let us pick a more personal matter.
Kennedy: A capital idea!
Burger: You could settle one trifle for me. That tittle tattle in the summer break? Oh, what was her name?
Kennedy: I have no idea -
Burger: Mary was it? Mary Saunderson? Miss Mary Saunderson.
Kennedy: What the devil do you mean? What sort of question is this? If you mean it as a joke, you never made a worse one.
Burger: There is no jest implied.
Kennedy: I know nothing of your personal affairs, I fail to see your interest in mine.
Burger: Academic curiosity, nothing more. For all I understand of the ruins around us, I know little of modern manners and the social scene.
Kennedy: Well, I do recall the woman I believe.
Burger: Such incidents have the fascination of the unknown for me, just as you are entranced by my necropolis. I believe I knew the woman by sight, had even spoken once or twice. I should very much like to hear what occurred between you.
Kennedy: Why is that, Burger?
Burger: There were rumours of impropriety. I'm sure you can dispel them. If I'm to trust you with such a prize, I must know you are trustworthy.
Burger: Anything but that, I beseech you.
Burger: That's all right. I quite understand. It was only my whim. To see if you would surrender a secret as easily as you expect me to give up mine. You wouldn't, and I didn't expect it...
Kennedy: Quite so.
Burger: And so of course you'll respect my discretion in turn.
F/X A clock tower strikes ten
Burger: There, Saint John's striking ten. It is late for this poor bachelor, I must make for my rooms.
Kennedy: No; wait a moment, Burger. This really is a ridiculous caprice of yours, it was nothing but an old affair which burned out months ago.
Burger: If it is nothing then -
Kennedy: We English still look upon a man who kisses and tells as the greatest coward and villain of all.
Burger: And even in New York a man who betrays a woman is a cad of the first order.
Kennedy: I'm glad to hear it. He would merit the ultimate censure.
Burger: But this assignation of yours was the talk of the common room. You inflict no further injury by clearing her case with me.
Kennedy: I'm sorry, Burger.
Burger: Are you? Are you really? Still, I respect your scruples; buona notte my friend!
Kennedy: Sir, see reason. Another glass perhaps? I am keen, more than keen, upon this catacomb business, I must confess. I can't let it drop so easily. Come, ask me something else in return - something not quite so... eccentric.
Burger: No, no; you have refused my entreaty and there is an end of it. If the secret cost you nought to reveal then nothing would be proved by its sharing. No doubt you are quite right not to answer, again, my dear Kennedy, I must bid you good night!
Kennedy: Hold on, old fellow. See here, I still think this a most ridiculous fancy but... you are free to set your condition and I suppose I must submit. I hate to say anything about a girl, even a girl like that, but I don't suppose I can betray much you didn't know already. So, ask your questions and we'll move to matters of more consequence.
Berger: As you like. May I have another cigar? Thank you very much! I never smoke when I work, but I enjoy a civil chat much more when under the influence of tobacco. Now, as I say, I saw her once or twice in town, but then after the scandal -
Kennedy: Misunderstanding at most.
Burger: Where did she disappear to?
Kennedy: I believe she left Lady Rood's service by mutual consent and returned to her family in Ireland.
Berger: And how long was your...?
Kennedy: I knew her less than a month, three weeks, if that.
Burger: Love? Was it love? No, love cannot evaporate in three weeks, so I presume you never loved her.
Kennedy: Of course not, don't be absurd.
Burger: But still you pursued her, scuppered her employment, wrecked her reputation. Left her too shy to even think of courting another man, I'll be bound. I don't see the sense of it Kennedy, I really don't.
Kennedy: You're a logical fellow, but logic plays no part in this.
Burger: I spoke only of love.
Kennedy: Love is a big word and hides many shades of feeling. She took my fancy - you may remember she's comely enough. But for all that, an Irish girl of such middling circumstances, I never really could have loved her.
Berger: Then, my dear Kennedy, why did you bother? Pick her like a daisy only to cast her aside?
Kennedy: The adventure of the thing perhaps.
Berger: You are so fond of adventures?
Kennedy: Where would life's variety be without them? It was for adventure that I took up archaeology, and, yes, paid her attention too. I've chased some wild game in my time, but there's no chase like that of a pretty woman.
Burger: Is that so?
Kennedy: There was the piquant difficulty of it too, as the companion of Lady Emily, it was almost impossible to see her alone. Like a climber on the Matterhorn, every obstacle attracted me, on top of which, and here's your secret if you must, I learned from her own lips one night that...
Burger: Do tell.
Kennedy: She had pledged her troth to another.
Berger: Heavens! To whom?
Kennedy: She mentioned no names. Some foolishness. Barely an engagement. They'd sent letters, little more.
Berger: And that added a spice?
Kennedy: Certainly! Why lie and deny it? The apple you steal from your neighbour's tree is always sweeter than your own.
Berger: I have never stolen anything.
Kennedy: Then you will not know the greatest thrill is to escape with your skullduggery.
Burger: Indeed?
Kennedy: But then alas, disaster struck, I found she cared for me.
Berger: She'd fallen - fallen at first sight of you? I have read of such things but...
Kennedy: Oh, no, it took three months of sapping and mining but, however much I wanted her body, I had no use for her heart. I'd assumed she'd known the travels for my work precluded me from formal attachment but... Let us just say we had a delightful time, for as long as these things last.
Berger: Three weeks, a month.
Kennedy: It is enough to know a woman.
Burger: What of the other man I wonder?
Kennedy: Oh, we are rational men, are we not? It is survival of the fittest. If he'd been the better chap she'd not have dropped him for this fling. I grow tired, let us drop the subject now!
Berger: Only one more thing. How did you rid yourself of her unwanted affections?
Kennedy: Well, she made some foolish suggestion of accompanying me to Rome, and I naturally rebuffed her. Her father turned up at the hotel in London, there was a scene... The whole thing became so unpleasant that it really was the kindest thing to slip away. Now, I entreat you not to repeat a word of what I've said.
Berger: My dear Kennedy, not a soul will know we've met tonight.
Kennedy: I am glad, I myself made no mention.
Burger: Now, I must be as good as my word, you wish to know about my catacomb?
Kennedy: At last! Indeed! Where does its entrance lay? And this central chamber! The crypt of the first popes? More, I must know more!
Berger: It is beyond my poor powers of description. There. There is nothing for it.
Kennedy: Burger, I must insist!
Burger: I have no choice.
Kennedy: After all I said!
Burger: Calm yourself, I merely meant I must show you myself. None know of its location but me.
Kennedy: That would be splendid!
Berger: When could you spare the time? Next month perhaps, before I return to Kings College?
Kennedy: Next month? Tomorrow! The sooner the better, sleep will stay a stranger tonight!
Berger: Tonight you say? Well, it is a beautiful night - though a trifle cold perhaps. But, if you truly would have no sleep, it would seem a shame to waste it.
Kennedy: This very night? What a capital idea!
Berger: As you wish then. But we must take care to keep the matter to ourselves. If a colleague saw us on the hunt together they might suspect something was afoot.
Kennedy: Indeed!
Burger: To say nothing of the vandals who would plunder its depths for ten lire.
Kennedy: Not a word to anyone then, I swear, just as my secret's safe with you. We can't be too cautious. Is it far?
Berger: Some miles perhaps, from here.
Kennedy: Not too far to walk though?
Berger: Oh, no, we could stroll there easily enough.
Kennedy: We had better do so, then. A cabbie's suspicions would be aroused if he dropped us at some lonely spot in the dead of night.
Berger: Sharp thinking my boy. Let us go our separate ways to prepare then.
Kennedy: Prepare?
Burger: And meet again at the Gate of the Appian Way. Shall we say midnight?
Kennedy: Why not go now?
Berger: I must away to my lodgings for the matches and candles and things. Patience my boy, that chamber has waited nigh on two millennia for your embrace, it can wait an hour more.
Kennedy: Yes, yes, of course. Forgive my impetuous nature. At midnight then! And remember, not a word of our endeavour. No-one knows of this place but you?
Berger: Not a soul.
Kennedy: All right, Burger! It is most thoughtful of you to share your secret, but I know what a burden they can be! Good-bye for the present! You will find me at the Gate at twelve…
The Gate of the Appian Way. Midnight.
F/X A distant chime of a clock tower striking midnight. Footsteps come to a halt.
Burger: Here already Kennedy? You are as ardent in work as your affairs of the heart!
Kennedy: I assure you my heart had nothing to do with it. I must confess, I came straight from the cafe, I thought it best to leave no clue. By Jove though, I am chilled to the bone! Come on, Burger; let us warm ourselves by a spurt of hard walking.
F/X Crisp footsteps on hard stone.
Burger: A good night for it. My heart is light now our secrets are shared. We are comrades in arms on this adventure.
Kennedy: How much further? We are passed the Catacombs of St. Calistus.
Burger: Ah, such zest for the chase! Not far now my friend. See, the bastion of Cecilia Metella? Now, as I recall the path we branch off lies somewhere here. Yes, this is it, round the corner of the trattoria. Now, careful, it grows narrow, across the Campagna marshes. Perhaps I had better go in front and you can follow…
F/X More footsteps as they press on through the night.
Kennedy: …Through here? Under the arch of the great aqueduct?
Burger: Indeed. Hurry now. See the crumbling circle which marks the old arena… Now, to the right, that lowly cow house over there, lurking in the shadows.
Kennedy: Surely your magnificent catacomb is not ensconsed inside a cattle byre!
Burger: The entrance is. It makes a capital disguise.
Kennedy: Does the farmer know of the wonders under his feet?
Burger: He is ignorant as you were this evening. He found one or two shards which came my way and sparked my curiosity for more. I rent it from him for a pittance, excavated it myself, hidden by these ramshackle walls. Come in now man, and shut the door behind you.
F/X They go inside. The door shuts behind them.
Burger: Shield my lantern with your great coat. It might excite remark if anyone glimpsed a light through the slats in this lonely place. I dress as a peasant by day here, no-one suspects a... Come now, help me prise this board.
F/X Planks are removed and piled.
Kennedy: Heavens! They mask an aperture in stone, and steps cut into the very bowels of the earth!
Burger: Quite so dear boy. Filled with earth and rubble they were, a thousand buckets or more I cleared!
Kennedy: I must see! Let me pass!
Burger: Temper your enthusiasm my friend. It is a perfect rabbits' warren below. Once you lose your way down there the chances are a hundred to one against your ever coming out again. Wait until I bring the light. Now follow, carefully.
F/X Footsteps descend down the steps.
Kennedy: How did you find your way at first?
Burger: I was slow and methodical, as is my way. Even so I had some very narrow escapes at first, but I have gradually learned to go about.
Kennedy: So anyone could learn?
Burger: In time. There is a certain system to it, but one a neophyte, were he lost in the dark, could not possibly divine. Even the first steps are difficult, and then every passage divides and subdivides a dozen times before you go a hundred yards.
Kennedy: It is really that extensive?
Burger: You will explore it all in time I'm sure.
F/X Footsteps echo as they move forward.
Burger: Twenty more feet and round the turn you will come up a chamber; hewn from the tufa more than two millennia ago.
Kennedy: Yes, I see it! Hold up the lantern! My word. What is the way to the central vault? There must be half a dozen passages from here.
Burger: And each will branch a dozen times, radiating from this common core.
Kennedy: Quite remarkable. So what is the way?
Burger: Let me lead now, and you must follow closely my friend. Do not loiter to look at anything upon the way.
Kennedy: But -
Burger: The place I will deliver you contains the final prize. It will save us time to go direct. Don't fret now, you'll have the rest of your days to wander the byways.
F/X They walk through the increasingly narrow passage ways. Their voices echo and their footsteps scrape along the stone.
Burger: Now, left I believe at this particular bifurcation, then perhaps the second right.
Kennedy: Are you sure? I see no fresh signs to mark the way.
Burger: Temporary signposts could be lost or misaligned and I could not bring myself to mar the stone.
Kennedy: Then should you not check your map to be certain?
Burger: I have no map but in my mind.
Kennedy: Burger!
Burger: Maps are all too readily lost or stolen. Have no fear, I know exactly what I'm doing.
Kennedy: My word, so many bodies piled on every side. The walls here are made of bone.
Burger: Packed like emigrants on a migrant ship, the Christians of old Rome.
Kennedy: How many corpses must rest here? Ten thousand?
Burger: Ten thousand times a hundred times more.
Kennedy: My word, what a privilege to walk here.
Burger: Let us not disturb their slumbers when our treasure still awaits.
Kennedy: But even here, inscriptions, funeral vessels, pictures, vestments, utensils…
Burger: Don’t dawdle, sir.
Kennedy: All resting where they were laid so many centuries ago. What a find!
Burger: The earliest and finest of the catacombs I am sure. See here, every side is crammed with them.
Kennedy: A city of the dead... You said yourself, a veritable necropolis.
Burger: And perfectly preserved. There can be no other egress save the one we used tonight.
Kennedy: I say, Burger, What would happen if the light went out?
Burger: I have a spare candle and a box of matches in my pocket.
Kennedy: I am relieved.
Burger: Have you any matches? No candle at all?
Kennedy: No, you had better furnish me with some supply.
Burger: I have mine safe in a tobacco tin. There is no chance of our separation, just so long as you keep up.
Kennedy: Yes, yes, of course. How far are we going? It seems to me that we have walked half a mile already.
Burger: More than that, I think. I count my paces, don't you? There is really no limit to the tombs on the periphery - at least, I have yet to find any. Ah, this is a very difficult place now and the limit of my memory.
Kennedy: So what now? We turn back? Perhaps that's best.
Burger: I thought you wanted adventure? Where is your classical education now? Like Theseus in the lair of the Minotaur, I will use my ball of string. Here, tie this end... Not to the skull, that nub of stone. Make sure it stays fast.
Kennedy: Like so?
Burger: Tie the knot double. Just to be sure. Now, it can be your turn for the lead, I will carry the coil here in my breast pocket, and pay it through my fingers to the ground as we advance.
Kennedy: Fascinating. I would happily serve the rest of my career here.
Burger: One could wander here a lifetime and never want for something new.
Kennedy: How much longer before the central crypt?
Burger: Not long now, ten minutes perhaps, the lantern stays strong, keep going.
Kennedy: …I say, have you a sip of water?
Burger: I took a generous libation before I came.
Kennedy: It is dry as a...
Burger: We cannot rest, but if you weaken we could perhaps return before the final prize.
Kennedy: No, no, press on. I am recovered.
Burger: Good man, now right, then left, then left again. Or is it… No, second left, to be sure.
Kennedy: Are you quite certain of our route? This maze is beyond me.
Burger: You will forget the privations of the trip once we complete our journey.
Kennedy: I hope -
Burger: Raise your eyes sir!
Kennedy: Burger!
F/X His voice echoes as if in a larger space, after the confinement of the tunnels.
Burger: Ah, magnificent isn’t it? I'm always amazed.
Kennedy: This chamber must span sixty feet or more!
Burger: Indeed, hewn from the living tufa itself. And see, over there, that square pedestal?
Kennedy: Swing the lantern this way! Why yes! It’s topped with slabs of marble!
Burger: And to what end do you surmise?
Kennedy: By Jove! A Christian altar!
Burger: There can be no doubt about it.
Kennedy: Here, see, the little consecration cross cut upon the corner! No doubt this circular space was used as a church during the early persecutions.
Burger: That is my conjecture too. And see, the bodies tucked into these niches in the walls. I believe them to be the early popes and bishops of the Church.
Kennedy: Yes, I see! Still draped in the rags of their mitres, their croziers, and full canonicals! A most singular state of preservation! Unique indeed. Bring the lantern over, Burger, for I want to see them all. How on earth has this survived a secret for so long?
Burger: Do you know how many wrong turns there are between this chamber and the stairs we first descended?
Kennedy: Countless, at least I lost count long ago. No doubt a means of protection the first Christians adopted.
Burger: Quite so! If the odds were a hundred to one against one getting in, they're ten thousand or more getting out.
Kennedy: Thank heavens we have your ball of string.
Burger: Even if he had a light and ample water the odds would be stacked if he had no other guide.
Kennedy: The first of the popes!
Burger: And in the dark it would be next to impossible.
Kennedy: So I dare say. Do you think the early bishops -
Burger: And the darkness is something quite dreadful, Kennedy. I tried it once for an experiment. Have you ever stood in absolute darkness? It is like drowning. Worse than drowning. Like being buried alive. Again, my words fail me, let me teach the lesson now.
Kennedy: Burger! The light!
Burger: Calm yourself, I merely doused it for effect.
Kennedy: Where are you?
Burger: Don’t move. You’ll fall and bark your knees, or crack your skull, or worse.
Kennedy: The dark...
Burger: Ah, yes, the dark, Kennedy. It’s like a solid thing. An assailant's hands pressing over your eyes. A quicksand tugging your legs down. A wall you can no more bluster your way through than you might push through a mountain.
Kennedy: That will do, Burger. You’ve made your point. Let us have the light again.
Burger: You wanted to know them. The denizens here. Inhabit their world.
Kennedy: Enough of this tomfoolery. We have work to do Burger.
Burger: Is that all that matters?
F/X Footsteps shuffle sideways
Kennedy: Of course! What else is there?...Burger?
Burger: I'm here. Now here. You seem uneasy, friend Kennedy.
Kennedy: Go on, man, light the lantern!
Burger: It is a singular thing, but I cannot for the life of me tell by your voice in which direction you stand. Could you tell where I am now?
Kennedy: No; indeed, you seem to be on every side of me.
Burger: If not for this stout string in my hand I would not have the first notion which way to turn.
Kennedy: I dare say not. Strike a light, man, perhaps it's best we head back.
Burger: You have seen all you wanted to see?
Kennedy: The light damn you!
Burger: Calm yourself man.
Kennedy: I warn you! I have a knife!
Burger: A knife?
Kennedy: Purloined from the cafe!
Burger: And what use would a knife have been?
Kennedy: I - to mark my way, or clear an inscription.
Burger: Of course, of course, what other reason would you bring a knife here? Or wait till you made the chamber to reveal it?
Kennedy: Here, you may have it, damn you!
F/X A knife is thrown fruitlessly against the wall and clatters away into oblivion.
Burger: You wanted an adventure, an obstacle to amuse? Have two thousand, each a blind turn in the dark.
Kennedy: No!
Berger: Survival of the fittest, don't you know.
Kennedy: Burger!
Burger: Save your strength. You may need it. The way back has its tricks, I must admit, but you need not hurry, you have a few days.
Kennedy: For the love of God!
Burger: And should you halt to catch your breath a time or two, perhaps think of Mary Saunderson and if you treated her fair.
Kennedy: Mary?
F/X Burger's next sentence fades away as he departs, leaving Kennedy alone
Burger: Yes, perhaps think of poor Mary, before you curse her fiance.
F/X Footsteps disappear into the distance. Kennedy tries to follow and falls.
Kennedy: Burger? Burger! Burger! Damn you!
F/X His cries dwindle and fade into the dark.
Train Carriage
Woman (Internal): … Although the first to publish his discovery, it appears that a less fortunate adventurer had anticipated Dr. Burger. Some months ago Mr. Kennedy, the well-known English student, disappeared suddenly from his rooms in the Corso, and it was conjectured that his association with a recent scandal in London had driven him in turn to leave his studies in Rome. It appears now that he had in reality fallen a victim to that fervid love of archaeology which had raised him to a distinguished place among living scholars. His body was discovered in a far periphery of the new catacomb, and it was evident from the condition of his feet and boots that he had tramped for days through the tortuous corridors which make these subterranean tombs so dangerous to unwary explorers. The deceased gentleman had, with inexplicable rashness, ventured into the virgin labyrinth without, as far as can be discovered, taking with him either candles or matches, so that his sad fate was the natural result of his own temerity. What makes the matter more painful is that Dr. Julius Burger was an intimate friend of the deceased. His joy at the extraordinary find which he has been so fortunate as to make has been greatly marred by the terrible fate of his comrade and fellow-worker.
F/X fade up train effect
Man: Ma'am?... Are you...
Woman: The rocking of the train, when reading, leaves me a trifle nauseus... Your paper. Thank you.
Man: Should I call someone, Miss?...Miss...Are you quite well? Is someone meeting you in Cork?
Woman: An acquaintance, over from London. I'm unsure if I'll make the appointment...
Man: Perhaps a cup of tea in the dining car? I would be happy to assist you.
Woman: Thank you. If you don't mind, perhaps leave your paper here...
The New Catacomb
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Kennedy – A young, ambitious English archaeologist.
Burger – An older German (or American for the purposes of our production) archaeologist
Other parts
Woman – A young woman.
Man - A young man.
Note on the sound
There are 3 distinct soundscapes to be drawn in terms of echo and atmosphere – a drawing room, the crisp night of Rome a century ago and the cramped catacombs.
A train carriage
F/X A steam train whistles as it clatters over the tracks. A newspaper rustles.
Man: A rum business.
Woman: I'm sorry?
Man: Oh, excuse me, just a story in my paper happened to catch my eye. A minor happenstance in Rome.
Woman: Rome?
Man: You know the city?
Woman: No, I... I've been a little out of touch of late.
Man: It's of no account. A kerfuffle in the catacombs or some such nonsense.
Woman: The catacombs? May I see?
Man: I'm sure it's not fit for women's eyes, but of course...Be my guest.
F/X A newspaper is flicked open.
Woman: Most obliged. (Internal monologue as she reads the story) One of the most interesting discoveries of recent years is that of the new catacomb in Rome, which lies some distance to the east of the well-known vaults of St. Calixtus. The finding of this important burial-place, which is exceeding rich in most interesting early Christian remains, is due to the energy and sagacity of… Dr. Julius Burger, the young German specialist, who is rapidly taking the first place as an authority upon ancient Rome. Although the first to publish his discovery, it appears that a less fortunate…
An outdoor Cafe. Rome. 1912.
Burger: So, what do you make of my basket of trinkets?
Kennedy: Trinkets? You know full well the import of - or do you, I wonder? Could I perhaps offer some assistance in their interpretation?
Berger: Interpretation? Perhaps. Can you translate this inscription? I took a copy from the stone.
Kennedy: "Here, if you would know, lie heaped together a whole crowd of holy ones..."
Berger: Quite so. Your Latin is immaculate.
Kennedy: You took notes of the rest? I take it there are more artifacts? Many more?
Burger: Perhaps.
Kennedy: Look here, Burger, I do wish you would confide in me.
Burger: Confide what, my friend?
Kennedy: This sundry bric-a-brac are the merest sweepings of some much greater treasure trove. You’ve clearly happened upon a discovery of the first order. Come now, I won't interfere with your triumph, but I should very much like to know more. The inscriptions alone will make a sensation throughout Europe.
Burger: There is more to it, I must confess.
Kennedy: I knew it!
Burger: So many that a dozen savants might labour a lifetime on their study.
Kennedy: No!
Burger: And build a reputation as solid as the Castle of St. Angelo.
Kennedy: You have given yourself away, Burger!
Berger: How so?
Kennedy: Your words can only mean one thing. You have stumbled upon a new catacomb. No other place could conceal so vast a store of relics.
Burger: I cannot say more.
Kennedy: I knew it! Where is it?
Burger: Ah, leave me one last secret, my dear Kennedy. Suffice to say it remains hidden beyond a chance in a million of rediscovery. Its date appears to be unique, and I fancy its deepest vault was reserved for the burial of none but the highest early Christians.
Kennedy: This is astounding!
Burger: Quite so. The treasures there interred are quite different from anything we, or rather you, have ever seen.
Kennedy: Were they not plundered in antiquity?
Burger: They appears intact, which is why I must guard their secrecy. The scoundrels here would strip it bare in a trice.
Kennedy: And you've not said a word?
Burger: Not one, before now.
Kennedy: I could help you catalogue the artifacts. You said the task was beyond any single man.
Burger: I have little else to occupy my time.
Kennedy: Such treasures belong to the world! We are departmental colleagues after all.
Burger: But colleagues must always be rivals Kennedy. Were I not all too aware of your passion and energy, my friend, I would not hesitate, under strictest pledge of secrecy, to offer you a little more. But, now I have your confirmation of their import, I'm afraid I must prepare my own monograph on the matter before I expose myself to such formidable competition.
Kennedy: Look here, Burger. You have my word, you can trust me implicitly. Nothing would induce me to commit pen to paper without your express permission.
Burger: All the same...
Kennedy. I quite understand your feelings, perfectly natural old chap, but you have nothing whatever to fear. On the other hand...
Burger: Yes?
Kennedy: Well, if you don't share your secret I would not rest until I found it for myself.
Burger: Indeed?
Kennedy: I would have no option but to undertake a most systematic and exhaustive search. I get what I want, Burger, and sooner rather than later. I should most certainly discover your treasure trove for myself and, in that case, I would have no prior obligation.
Burger: So, you would have me share the glory?
Kennedy: Anything but. I merely offer to lighten your labour but the glory rightly remains yours.
Burger: Well, undue discretion has done me little favour in the past. Is that really all you desire?
Kennedy: I crave only your trust, perhaps a little information.
Burger: If I asked the same, would you so readily supply it?
Kennedy: Of course my dear fellow! Without reserve or hesitation! When did you ever want for help from me? You remember, I am sure, the copious material I shared for your paper on the temple of the Vestals.
Burger: Quite so, quite so, but if I were to ask some more intimate thing would you be so accomodating? This new catacomb is very close to my heart. To trust you with its secret, I might expect some equal confidence in return.
Kennedy: Alas, I have no such grand discovery to offer you.
Burger: Indeed. How could you? Perhaps we had best conclude our meeting.
Kennedy: Surely there is some way I can prove my oath to you?
Burger: As you will. If you have no professional intelligence of equal import, let us pick a more personal matter.
Kennedy: A capital idea!
Burger: You could settle one trifle for me. That tittle tattle in the summer break? Oh, what was her name?
Kennedy: I have no idea -
Burger: Mary was it? Mary Saunderson? Miss Mary Saunderson.
Kennedy: What the devil do you mean? What sort of question is this? If you mean it as a joke, you never made a worse one.
Burger: There is no jest implied.
Kennedy: I know nothing of your personal affairs, I fail to see your interest in mine.
Burger: Academic curiosity, nothing more. For all I understand of the ruins around us, I know little of modern manners and the social scene.
Kennedy: Well, I do recall the woman I believe.
Burger: Such incidents have the fascination of the unknown for me, just as you are entranced by my necropolis. I believe I knew the woman by sight, had even spoken once or twice. I should very much like to hear what occurred between you.
Kennedy: Why is that, Burger?
Burger: There were rumours of impropriety. I'm sure you can dispel them. If I'm to trust you with such a prize, I must know you are trustworthy.
Burger: Anything but that, I beseech you.
Burger: That's all right. I quite understand. It was only my whim. To see if you would surrender a secret as easily as you expect me to give up mine. You wouldn't, and I didn't expect it...
Kennedy: Quite so.
Burger: And so of course you'll respect my discretion in turn.
F/X A clock tower strikes ten
Burger: There, Saint John's striking ten. It is late for this poor bachelor, I must make for my rooms.
Kennedy: No; wait a moment, Burger. This really is a ridiculous caprice of yours, it was nothing but an old affair which burned out months ago.
Burger: If it is nothing then -
Kennedy: We English still look upon a man who kisses and tells as the greatest coward and villain of all.
Burger: And even in New York a man who betrays a woman is a cad of the first order.
Kennedy: I'm glad to hear it. He would merit the ultimate censure.
Burger: But this assignation of yours was the talk of the common room. You inflict no further injury by clearing her case with me.
Kennedy: I'm sorry, Burger.
Burger: Are you? Are you really? Still, I respect your scruples; buona notte my friend!
Kennedy: Sir, see reason. Another glass perhaps? I am keen, more than keen, upon this catacomb business, I must confess. I can't let it drop so easily. Come, ask me something else in return - something not quite so... eccentric.
Burger: No, no; you have refused my entreaty and there is an end of it. If the secret cost you nought to reveal then nothing would be proved by its sharing. No doubt you are quite right not to answer, again, my dear Kennedy, I must bid you good night!
Kennedy: Hold on, old fellow. See here, I still think this a most ridiculous fancy but... you are free to set your condition and I suppose I must submit. I hate to say anything about a girl, even a girl like that, but I don't suppose I can betray much you didn't know already. So, ask your questions and we'll move to matters of more consequence.
Berger: As you like. May I have another cigar? Thank you very much! I never smoke when I work, but I enjoy a civil chat much more when under the influence of tobacco. Now, as I say, I saw her once or twice in town, but then after the scandal -
Kennedy: Misunderstanding at most.
Burger: Where did she disappear to?
Kennedy: I believe she left Lady Rood's service by mutual consent and returned to her family in Ireland.
Berger: And how long was your...?
Kennedy: I knew her less than a month, three weeks, if that.
Burger: Love? Was it love? No, love cannot evaporate in three weeks, so I presume you never loved her.
Kennedy: Of course not, don't be absurd.
Burger: But still you pursued her, scuppered her employment, wrecked her reputation. Left her too shy to even think of courting another man, I'll be bound. I don't see the sense of it Kennedy, I really don't.
Kennedy: You're a logical fellow, but logic plays no part in this.
Burger: I spoke only of love.
Kennedy: Love is a big word and hides many shades of feeling. She took my fancy - you may remember she's comely enough. But for all that, an Irish girl of such middling circumstances, I never really could have loved her.
Berger: Then, my dear Kennedy, why did you bother? Pick her like a daisy only to cast her aside?
Kennedy: The adventure of the thing perhaps.
Berger: You are so fond of adventures?
Kennedy: Where would life's variety be without them? It was for adventure that I took up archaeology, and, yes, paid her attention too. I've chased some wild game in my time, but there's no chase like that of a pretty woman.
Burger: Is that so?
Kennedy: There was the piquant difficulty of it too, as the companion of Lady Emily, it was almost impossible to see her alone. Like a climber on the Matterhorn, every obstacle attracted me, on top of which, and here's your secret if you must, I learned from her own lips one night that...
Burger: Do tell.
Kennedy: She had pledged her troth to another.
Berger: Heavens! To whom?
Kennedy: She mentioned no names. Some foolishness. Barely an engagement. They'd sent letters, little more.
Berger: And that added a spice?
Kennedy: Certainly! Why lie and deny it? The apple you steal from your neighbour's tree is always sweeter than your own.
Berger: I have never stolen anything.
Kennedy: Then you will not know the greatest thrill is to escape with your skullduggery.
Burger: Indeed?
Kennedy: But then alas, disaster struck, I found she cared for me.
Berger: She'd fallen - fallen at first sight of you? I have read of such things but...
Kennedy: Oh, no, it took three months of sapping and mining but, however much I wanted her body, I had no use for her heart. I'd assumed she'd known the travels for my work precluded me from formal attachment but... Let us just say we had a delightful time, for as long as these things last.
Berger: Three weeks, a month.
Kennedy: It is enough to know a woman.
Burger: What of the other man I wonder?
Kennedy: Oh, we are rational men, are we not? It is survival of the fittest. If he'd been the better chap she'd not have dropped him for this fling. I grow tired, let us drop the subject now!
Berger: Only one more thing. How did you rid yourself of her unwanted affections?
Kennedy: Well, she made some foolish suggestion of accompanying me to Rome, and I naturally rebuffed her. Her father turned up at the hotel in London, there was a scene... The whole thing became so unpleasant that it really was the kindest thing to slip away. Now, I entreat you not to repeat a word of what I've said.
Berger: My dear Kennedy, not a soul will know we've met tonight.
Kennedy: I am glad, I myself made no mention.
Burger: Now, I must be as good as my word, you wish to know about my catacomb?
Kennedy: At last! Indeed! Where does its entrance lay? And this central chamber! The crypt of the first popes? More, I must know more!
Berger: It is beyond my poor powers of description. There. There is nothing for it.
Kennedy: Burger, I must insist!
Burger: I have no choice.
Kennedy: After all I said!
Burger: Calm yourself, I merely meant I must show you myself. None know of its location but me.
Kennedy: That would be splendid!
Berger: When could you spare the time? Next month perhaps, before I return to Kings College?
Kennedy: Next month? Tomorrow! The sooner the better, sleep will stay a stranger tonight!
Berger: Tonight you say? Well, it is a beautiful night - though a trifle cold perhaps. But, if you truly would have no sleep, it would seem a shame to waste it.
Kennedy: This very night? What a capital idea!
Berger: As you wish then. But we must take care to keep the matter to ourselves. If a colleague saw us on the hunt together they might suspect something was afoot.
Kennedy: Indeed!
Burger: To say nothing of the vandals who would plunder its depths for ten lire.
Kennedy: Not a word to anyone then, I swear, just as my secret's safe with you. We can't be too cautious. Is it far?
Berger: Some miles perhaps, from here.
Kennedy: Not too far to walk though?
Berger: Oh, no, we could stroll there easily enough.
Kennedy: We had better do so, then. A cabbie's suspicions would be aroused if he dropped us at some lonely spot in the dead of night.
Berger: Sharp thinking my boy. Let us go our separate ways to prepare then.
Kennedy: Prepare?
Burger: And meet again at the Gate of the Appian Way. Shall we say midnight?
Kennedy: Why not go now?
Berger: I must away to my lodgings for the matches and candles and things. Patience my boy, that chamber has waited nigh on two millennia for your embrace, it can wait an hour more.
Kennedy: Yes, yes, of course. Forgive my impetuous nature. At midnight then! And remember, not a word of our endeavour. No-one knows of this place but you?
Berger: Not a soul.
Kennedy: All right, Burger! It is most thoughtful of you to share your secret, but I know what a burden they can be! Good-bye for the present! You will find me at the Gate at twelve…
The Gate of the Appian Way. Midnight.
F/X A distant chime of a clock tower striking midnight. Footsteps come to a halt.
Burger: Here already Kennedy? You are as ardent in work as your affairs of the heart!
Kennedy: I assure you my heart had nothing to do with it. I must confess, I came straight from the cafe, I thought it best to leave no clue. By Jove though, I am chilled to the bone! Come on, Burger; let us warm ourselves by a spurt of hard walking.
F/X Crisp footsteps on hard stone.
Burger: A good night for it. My heart is light now our secrets are shared. We are comrades in arms on this adventure.
Kennedy: How much further? We are passed the Catacombs of St. Calistus.
Burger: Ah, such zest for the chase! Not far now my friend. See, the bastion of Cecilia Metella? Now, as I recall the path we branch off lies somewhere here. Yes, this is it, round the corner of the trattoria. Now, careful, it grows narrow, across the Campagna marshes. Perhaps I had better go in front and you can follow…
F/X More footsteps as they press on through the night.
Kennedy: …Through here? Under the arch of the great aqueduct?
Burger: Indeed. Hurry now. See the crumbling circle which marks the old arena… Now, to the right, that lowly cow house over there, lurking in the shadows.
Kennedy: Surely your magnificent catacomb is not ensconsed inside a cattle byre!
Burger: The entrance is. It makes a capital disguise.
Kennedy: Does the farmer know of the wonders under his feet?
Burger: He is ignorant as you were this evening. He found one or two shards which came my way and sparked my curiosity for more. I rent it from him for a pittance, excavated it myself, hidden by these ramshackle walls. Come in now man, and shut the door behind you.
F/X They go inside. The door shuts behind them.
Burger: Shield my lantern with your great coat. It might excite remark if anyone glimpsed a light through the slats in this lonely place. I dress as a peasant by day here, no-one suspects a... Come now, help me prise this board.
F/X Planks are removed and piled.
Kennedy: Heavens! They mask an aperture in stone, and steps cut into the very bowels of the earth!
Burger: Quite so dear boy. Filled with earth and rubble they were, a thousand buckets or more I cleared!
Kennedy: I must see! Let me pass!
Burger: Temper your enthusiasm my friend. It is a perfect rabbits' warren below. Once you lose your way down there the chances are a hundred to one against your ever coming out again. Wait until I bring the light. Now follow, carefully.
F/X Footsteps descend down the steps.
Kennedy: How did you find your way at first?
Burger: I was slow and methodical, as is my way. Even so I had some very narrow escapes at first, but I have gradually learned to go about.
Kennedy: So anyone could learn?
Burger: In time. There is a certain system to it, but one a neophyte, were he lost in the dark, could not possibly divine. Even the first steps are difficult, and then every passage divides and subdivides a dozen times before you go a hundred yards.
Kennedy: It is really that extensive?
Burger: You will explore it all in time I'm sure.
F/X Footsteps echo as they move forward.
Burger: Twenty more feet and round the turn you will come up a chamber; hewn from the tufa more than two millennia ago.
Kennedy: Yes, I see it! Hold up the lantern! My word. What is the way to the central vault? There must be half a dozen passages from here.
Burger: And each will branch a dozen times, radiating from this common core.
Kennedy: Quite remarkable. So what is the way?
Burger: Let me lead now, and you must follow closely my friend. Do not loiter to look at anything upon the way.
Kennedy: But -
Burger: The place I will deliver you contains the final prize. It will save us time to go direct. Don't fret now, you'll have the rest of your days to wander the byways.
F/X They walk through the increasingly narrow passage ways. Their voices echo and their footsteps scrape along the stone.
Burger: Now, left I believe at this particular bifurcation, then perhaps the second right.
Kennedy: Are you sure? I see no fresh signs to mark the way.
Burger: Temporary signposts could be lost or misaligned and I could not bring myself to mar the stone.
Kennedy: Then should you not check your map to be certain?
Burger: I have no map but in my mind.
Kennedy: Burger!
Burger: Maps are all too readily lost or stolen. Have no fear, I know exactly what I'm doing.
Kennedy: My word, so many bodies piled on every side. The walls here are made of bone.
Burger: Packed like emigrants on a migrant ship, the Christians of old Rome.
Kennedy: How many corpses must rest here? Ten thousand?
Burger: Ten thousand times a hundred times more.
Kennedy: My word, what a privilege to walk here.
Burger: Let us not disturb their slumbers when our treasure still awaits.
Kennedy: But even here, inscriptions, funeral vessels, pictures, vestments, utensils…
Burger: Don’t dawdle, sir.
Kennedy: All resting where they were laid so many centuries ago. What a find!
Burger: The earliest and finest of the catacombs I am sure. See here, every side is crammed with them.
Kennedy: A city of the dead... You said yourself, a veritable necropolis.
Burger: And perfectly preserved. There can be no other egress save the one we used tonight.
Kennedy: I say, Burger, What would happen if the light went out?
Burger: I have a spare candle and a box of matches in my pocket.
Kennedy: I am relieved.
Burger: Have you any matches? No candle at all?
Kennedy: No, you had better furnish me with some supply.
Burger: I have mine safe in a tobacco tin. There is no chance of our separation, just so long as you keep up.
Kennedy: Yes, yes, of course. How far are we going? It seems to me that we have walked half a mile already.
Burger: More than that, I think. I count my paces, don't you? There is really no limit to the tombs on the periphery - at least, I have yet to find any. Ah, this is a very difficult place now and the limit of my memory.
Kennedy: So what now? We turn back? Perhaps that's best.
Burger: I thought you wanted adventure? Where is your classical education now? Like Theseus in the lair of the Minotaur, I will use my ball of string. Here, tie this end... Not to the skull, that nub of stone. Make sure it stays fast.
Kennedy: Like so?
Burger: Tie the knot double. Just to be sure. Now, it can be your turn for the lead, I will carry the coil here in my breast pocket, and pay it through my fingers to the ground as we advance.
Kennedy: Fascinating. I would happily serve the rest of my career here.
Burger: One could wander here a lifetime and never want for something new.
Kennedy: How much longer before the central crypt?
Burger: Not long now, ten minutes perhaps, the lantern stays strong, keep going.
Kennedy: …I say, have you a sip of water?
Burger: I took a generous libation before I came.
Kennedy: It is dry as a...
Burger: We cannot rest, but if you weaken we could perhaps return before the final prize.
Kennedy: No, no, press on. I am recovered.
Burger: Good man, now right, then left, then left again. Or is it… No, second left, to be sure.
Kennedy: Are you quite certain of our route? This maze is beyond me.
Burger: You will forget the privations of the trip once we complete our journey.
Kennedy: I hope -
Burger: Raise your eyes sir!
Kennedy: Burger!
F/X His voice echoes as if in a larger space, after the confinement of the tunnels.
Burger: Ah, magnificent isn’t it? I'm always amazed.
Kennedy: This chamber must span sixty feet or more!
Burger: Indeed, hewn from the living tufa itself. And see, over there, that square pedestal?
Kennedy: Swing the lantern this way! Why yes! It’s topped with slabs of marble!
Burger: And to what end do you surmise?
Kennedy: By Jove! A Christian altar!
Burger: There can be no doubt about it.
Kennedy: Here, see, the little consecration cross cut upon the corner! No doubt this circular space was used as a church during the early persecutions.
Burger: That is my conjecture too. And see, the bodies tucked into these niches in the walls. I believe them to be the early popes and bishops of the Church.
Kennedy: Yes, I see! Still draped in the rags of their mitres, their croziers, and full canonicals! A most singular state of preservation! Unique indeed. Bring the lantern over, Burger, for I want to see them all. How on earth has this survived a secret for so long?
Burger: Do you know how many wrong turns there are between this chamber and the stairs we first descended?
Kennedy: Countless, at least I lost count long ago. No doubt a means of protection the first Christians adopted.
Burger: Quite so! If the odds were a hundred to one against one getting in, they're ten thousand or more getting out.
Kennedy: Thank heavens we have your ball of string.
Burger: Even if he had a light and ample water the odds would be stacked if he had no other guide.
Kennedy: The first of the popes!
Burger: And in the dark it would be next to impossible.
Kennedy: So I dare say. Do you think the early bishops -
Burger: And the darkness is something quite dreadful, Kennedy. I tried it once for an experiment. Have you ever stood in absolute darkness? It is like drowning. Worse than drowning. Like being buried alive. Again, my words fail me, let me teach the lesson now.
Kennedy: Burger! The light!
Burger: Calm yourself, I merely doused it for effect.
Kennedy: Where are you?
Burger: Don’t move. You’ll fall and bark your knees, or crack your skull, or worse.
Kennedy: The dark...
Burger: Ah, yes, the dark, Kennedy. It’s like a solid thing. An assailant's hands pressing over your eyes. A quicksand tugging your legs down. A wall you can no more bluster your way through than you might push through a mountain.
Kennedy: That will do, Burger. You’ve made your point. Let us have the light again.
Burger: You wanted to know them. The denizens here. Inhabit their world.
Kennedy: Enough of this tomfoolery. We have work to do Burger.
Burger: Is that all that matters?
F/X Footsteps shuffle sideways
Kennedy: Of course! What else is there?...Burger?
Burger: I'm here. Now here. You seem uneasy, friend Kennedy.
Kennedy: Go on, man, light the lantern!
Burger: It is a singular thing, but I cannot for the life of me tell by your voice in which direction you stand. Could you tell where I am now?
Kennedy: No; indeed, you seem to be on every side of me.
Burger: If not for this stout string in my hand I would not have the first notion which way to turn.
Kennedy: I dare say not. Strike a light, man, perhaps it's best we head back.
Burger: You have seen all you wanted to see?
Kennedy: The light damn you!
Burger: Calm yourself man.
Kennedy: I warn you! I have a knife!
Burger: A knife?
Kennedy: Purloined from the cafe!
Burger: And what use would a knife have been?
Kennedy: I - to mark my way, or clear an inscription.
Burger: Of course, of course, what other reason would you bring a knife here? Or wait till you made the chamber to reveal it?
Kennedy: Here, you may have it, damn you!
F/X A knife is thrown fruitlessly against the wall and clatters away into oblivion.
Burger: You wanted an adventure, an obstacle to amuse? Have two thousand, each a blind turn in the dark.
Kennedy: No!
Berger: Survival of the fittest, don't you know.
Kennedy: Burger!
Burger: Save your strength. You may need it. The way back has its tricks, I must admit, but you need not hurry, you have a few days.
Kennedy: For the love of God!
Burger: And should you halt to catch your breath a time or two, perhaps think of Mary Saunderson and if you treated her fair.
Kennedy: Mary?
F/X Burger's next sentence fades away as he departs, leaving Kennedy alone
Burger: Yes, perhaps think of poor Mary, before you curse her fiance.
F/X Footsteps disappear into the distance. Kennedy tries to follow and falls.
Kennedy: Burger? Burger! Burger! Damn you!
F/X His cries dwindle and fade into the dark.
Train Carriage
Woman (Internal): … Although the first to publish his discovery, it appears that a less fortunate adventurer had anticipated Dr. Burger. Some months ago Mr. Kennedy, the well-known English student, disappeared suddenly from his rooms in the Corso, and it was conjectured that his association with a recent scandal in London had driven him in turn to leave his studies in Rome. It appears now that he had in reality fallen a victim to that fervid love of archaeology which had raised him to a distinguished place among living scholars. His body was discovered in a far periphery of the new catacomb, and it was evident from the condition of his feet and boots that he had tramped for days through the tortuous corridors which make these subterranean tombs so dangerous to unwary explorers. The deceased gentleman had, with inexplicable rashness, ventured into the virgin labyrinth without, as far as can be discovered, taking with him either candles or matches, so that his sad fate was the natural result of his own temerity. What makes the matter more painful is that Dr. Julius Burger was an intimate friend of the deceased. His joy at the extraordinary find which he has been so fortunate as to make has been greatly marred by the terrible fate of his comrade and fellow-worker.
F/X fade up train effect
Man: Ma'am?... Are you...
Woman: The rocking of the train, when reading, leaves me a trifle nauseus... Your paper. Thank you.
Man: Should I call someone, Miss?...Miss...Are you quite well? Is someone meeting you in Cork?
Woman: An acquaintance, over from London. I'm unsure if I'll make the appointment...
Man: Perhaps a cup of tea in the dining car? I would be happy to assist you.
Woman: Thank you. If you don't mind, perhaps leave your paper here...