SEX. The attraction which Newton left out. And one of the driving forces for Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia, which is being produced by the Library Theatre Company at their temporary home at The Lowry.

Arcadia marked a turning point for Stoppard — it has neither the pure intellectualism of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, the sheer romance of The Invention Of Love nor the raw politics of his latest work, Rock ’n’ Roll. Instead, it balances both head and heart. In short, it is perfect Stoppard, and a hell of a challenge for any company.

Happily, Chris Honer’s cast are more than capable of the verbal waltzing that is necessary to navigate two time periods and a myriad of cultural references without once standing on each others’ toes.

Essentially, Arcadia is a terribly witty play about terribly posh people being terribly clever. Half of it is set in the early 1800s and concerns the bedroom and garden antics of various poets, aristocrats and their wives at Sidley Park. The other half sees modern-day academics and inhabitants of the park try to piece together the past. A literary whodunnit, of sorts. But that does not do justice at all to the nuances with which Stoppard interweaves the two halves.

Charlie Anson is sublime as Septimus Hodge — surely one of literature’s most fanciable men — the drily witty tutor whose explanation to his pupil of carnal embrace takes in most of the butcher’s counter and little of the boudoir. Beth Park as the presciently clever pupil is sweet and quick, and their final dance is unbearably poignant.

Leigh Symonds as Ezra Chater, Christopher Wright as Jellaby the butler and Emma Gregory as Lady Croom all have finely-tuned timing, so necessary to making this carefully balanced play a success.

Skip forward two centuries or so and James Wallace’s Bernard Nightingale is cringeworthily brilliant, an ambitious don so awful that it is almost impossible not to be drawn along with him. Playing against him is Cate Hamer’s nail-hard Hannah Jarvis; their razor-sharp dialogue exposes the ridiculousness of academic rivalries. Sweetly positioned between the two of them is Alasdair Craig’s frayingly romantic Valentine Coverly, whose non-too-sexy research into grouse has some surprising revelations.

Perfectly paced and funny throughout, the final kick puts a lump in your throat. A must-see.

* Arcadia, The Lowry Quays Theatre, Until Saturday, October 9.