STANLEY. Evening.
MCCANN. Evening.
Chuckles are heard from outside the back door, which is open.
STANLEY. Very warm tonight. (He turns towards the back door, and back.) Someone out there?
MCCANN tears another length of paper. STANLEY goes into the kitchen and pours a glass of water. He drinks it looking through the hatch. He puts the glass down, comes out of the kitchen and walks quickly towards the door, left. MCCANN rises and intercepts him.
MCCANN. I don't think we've met.
STANLEY. No, we haven't.
MCCANN. My name's McCann.
STANLEY. Staying here long?
MCCANN. Not long. What's your name?
STANLEY. Webber.
MCCANN. I'm glad to meet you, sir. (He offers his hand. STANLEY takes it, and MCCANN holds the grip.) Many happy returns of the day. (STANLEY withdraws his hand. They face each other.) Were you going out?
STANLEY. Yes.
MCCANN. On your birthday?
STANLEY. Yes. Why not?
MCCANN. But they're holding a party here for you tonight.
STANLEY. Oh really? That's unfortunate.
MCCANN. Ah no. It's very nice.
Voices from outside the back door.
STANLEY. I'm sorry. I'm not in the mood for a party tonight.
MCCANN. Oh, is that so? I'm sorry.
STANLEY. Yes, I'm going out to celebrate quietly, on my own.
MCCANN. That's a shame.
They stand.
STANLEY. Well, if you'd move out of my way-
MCCANN. But everything's laid on. The guests are expected.
STANLEY. Guests? What guests?
MCCANN. Myself for one. I had the honour of an invitation.
MCCANN begins to whistle "The Mountains of Morne".
STANLEY (moving away). I wouldn't call it an honour, would you? It'll just be another booze-up.
STANLEY joins MCCANN in whistling "The Mountains of Morne". During the next five lines the whistling is continuous, one whistling while the other speaks‚ and both whistling together.
MCCANN. But it is an honour.
STANLEY. I'd say you were exaggerating.
MCCANN. Oh no. I'd say it was an honour.
STANLEY. I'd say that was plain stupid.
MCCANN. Ah no.
They stare at each other.
STANLEY. Who are the other guests?
MCCANN. A young lady.
STANLEY. Oh yes? And….?
MCCANN. My friend.
STANLEY. Your friend?
MCCANN. That's right. It's all laid on.
STANLEY walks round the table towards the door. MCCANN meets him.
STANLEY. Excuse me.
MCCANN. Where are you going?
STANLEY. I want to go out.
MCCANN. Why don't you stay here?
STANLEY moves away, to the right of the table.
STANLEY. So you're down here on holiday?
MCCANN. A short one. (STANLEY picks up a strip of paper. MCCANN moves in.) Mind that.
STANLEY. What is it?
MCCANN. Mind it. Leave it.
STANLEY. I've got a feeling we've met before.
MCCANN. No we haven't.
STANLEY. Ever been anywhere near Maidenhead?
MCCANN. No.
STANLEY. There's a Fuller's teashop. I used to have my tea there.
MCCANN. I don't know it.
STANLEY. And a Boots Library. I seem to connect you with the High Street.
MCCANN. Yes?
STANLEY. A charming town, don't you think?
MCCANN. I don't know it.
STANLEY. Oh no. A quiet, thriving community. I was born and brought up there. I lived well away from the main road.
MCCANN. Yes?
Pause.
STANLEY. You're here on a short stay?
MCCANN. That's right.
STANLEY. You'll find it very bracing.
MCCANN. Do you find it bracing?
STANLEY. Me? No. But you will. (He sits at the table.) I like it here, but I'll be moving soon. Back home. I'll stay there too, this time. No place like home. (He laughs.) I wouldn't have left, but business calls. Business called, and I had to leave for a bit. You know how it is.
MCCANN (sitting at the table‚ left). You in business?
STANLEY. No. I think I'll give it up. I've got a small private income, you see. I think I'll give it up. Don't like being away from home. I used to live very quietly-played records, that's about all. Everything delivered to the door. Then I started a little private business, in a small way, and it compelled me to come down here-kept me longer than I expected. You never get used to living in someone else's house. Don't you agree? I lived so quietly. You can only appreciate what you've had when things change. That's what they say, isn't it? Cigarette?
MCCANN. I don't smoke.
STANLEY lights a cigarette. Voices from the back.
STANLEY. Who's out there?
MCCANN. My friend and the man of the house.
STANLEY. You know what? To look at me, I bet you wouldn't think I'd led such a quiet life. The lines on my face, eh? It's the drink. Been drinking a bit down here. But what I mean is… you know how it is… away from your own… all wrong, of course… I'll be all right when I get back… but what I mean is, the way some people look at me you'd think I was a different person. I suppose I have changed, but I'm still the same man that I always was. I mean, you wouldn't think, to look at me, really… I mean, not really, that I was the sort of bloke to-to cause any trouble, would you? (MCCANN looks at him.) Do you know what I mean?
MCCANN. No. (As STANLEY picks up a strip of paper.) Mind that.
STANLEY (quickly). Why are you down here?
MCCANN. A short holiday.
STANLEY. This is a ridiculous house to pick on. (He rises.)
MCCANN. Why?
STANLEY. Because it's not a boarding house. It never was.
MCCANN. Sure it is.
STANLEY. Why did you choose this house?
MCCANN. You know, sir, you're a bit depressed for a man on his birthday.
STANLEY (sharply). Why do you call me sir?
MCCANN. You don't like it?
STANLEY (to the table.) Listen. Don't call me sir.
MCCANN. I won't, if you don't like it.
STANLEY (moving away). No. Anyway, this isn't my birthday.
MCCANN. No?
STANLEY. No. It's not till next month.
MCCANN. Not according to the lady.
STANLEY. Her? She's crazy. Round the bend.
MCCANN. That's a terrible thing to say.
STANLEY (to the table). Haven't you found that out yet? There's a lot you don't know. I think someone's leading you up the garden path.
MCCANN. Who would do that?
STANLEY (leaning across the table). That woman is mad!
MCCANN. That's slander.
STANLEY. And you don't know what you're doing.
MCCANN. Your cigarette is near that paper.
Voices from the back.
STANLEY. Where the hell are they? (Stubbing his cigarette.) Why don't they come in? What are they doing out there?
MCCANN. You want to steady yourself.
STANLEY crosses to him and grips his arm.
STANLEY (urgently). Look-
MCCANN. Don't touch me.
STANLEY. Look. Listen a minute.
MCCANN. Let go my arm.
STANLEY. Look. Sit down a minute.
MCCANN (savagely, hitting his arm). Don't do that!
STANLEY backs across the stage, holding his arm.
STANLEY. Listen. You knew what I was talking about before, didn't you?
MCCANN. I don't know what you're at at all.
STANLEY. It's a mistake! Do you understand?
MCCANN. You're in a bad state, man.
STANLEY (whispering, advancing). Has he told you anything? Do you know what you're here for? Tell me. You needn't be frightened of me. Or hasn't he told you?
MCCANN. Told me what?
STANLEY (hissing). I've explained to you, damn you, that all those years I lived in Basingstoke I never stepped outside the door.
MCCANN. You know, I'm flabbergasted with you.
STANLEY (reasonably). Look. You look an honest man. You're being made a fool of, that's all. You understand? Where do you come from?
MCCANN. Where do you think?
STANLEY. I know Ireland very well. I've many friends there. I love that country and I admire and trust its people. I trust them. They respect the truth and they have a sense of humour. I think their policemen are wonderful. I've been there. I've never seen such sunsets. What about coming out to have a drink with me? There's a pub down the road serves draught Guinness. Very difficult to get in these parts-(He breaks off. The voices draw nearer. GOLDBERG and PETEY enter from the back door.)
GOLDBERG (as he enters). A mother in a million. (He sees STANLEY.) Ah.
PETEY. Oh hullo, Stan. You haven't met Stanley, have you, Mr Goldberg?
GOLDBERG. I haven't had the pleasure.
PETEY. Oh well, this is Mr Goldberg, this is Mr Webber.
GOLDBERG. Pleased to meet you.
PETEY. We were just getting a bit of air in the garden.
GOLDBERG. I was telling Mr Boles about my old mum. What days. (He sits at the table, right.) Yes. When I was a youngster, of a Friday, I used to go for a walk down the canal with a girl who lived down my road. A beautiful girl. What a voice that bird had! A nightingale, my word of honour. Good? Pure? She wasn't a Sunday school teacher for nothing. Anyway, I'd leave her with a little kiss on the cheek-I never took liberties-we weren't like the young men these days in those days. We knew the meaning of respect. So I'd give her a peck and I'd bowl back home. Humming away I'd be, past the children's playground. I'd tip my hat to the toddlers, I'd give a helping hand to a couple of stray dogs, everything came natural. I can see it like yesterday. The sun falling behind the dog stadium. Ah! (He leans back contentedly.)
MCCANN. Like behind the town hall.
GOLDBERG. What town hall?
MCCANN. In Carrikmacross.
GOLDBERG. There's no comparison. Up the street, into my gate, inside the door, home. "Simey!" my old mum used to shout, "quick before it gets cold." And there on the table what would I see? The nicest piece of gefilte fish you could wish to find on a plate.
MCCANN. I thought your name was Nat.
GOLDBERG. She called me Simey.
PETEY. Yes, we all remember our childhood.
GOLDBERG. Too true. Eh, Mr Webber, what do you say? Childhood Hot water bottles. Hot milk. Pancakes. Soap suds. What a life.
Pause.
PETEY (rising from the table). Well, I'll have to be off.
GOLDBERG. Off?
PETEY. It's my chess night.
GOLDBERG. You're not staying for the party?
PETEY. No, I'm sorry, Stan. I didn't know about it till just now. And we've got a game on. I'll try and get back early.
GOLDBERG. We'll save some drink for you, all right? Oh, that reminds me. You'd better go and collect the bottles.
MCCANN. Now?
GOLDBERG. Of course, now. Time's getting on. Round the corner, remember? Mention my name.
PETEY. I'm coming your way.
GOLDBERG. Beat him quick and come back, Mr Boles.
PETEY. Do my best. See you later, Stan.
PETEY and MCCANN go out, left. STANLEY moves to the centre.
GOLDBERG. A warm night.
STANLEY (turning). Don't mess me about!
GOLDBERG. I beg your pardon?
STANLEY (moving downstage). I'm afraid there's been a mistake. We're booked out. Your room is taken. Mrs Boles forgot to tell you. You'll have to find somewhere else.
GOLDBERG. Are you the manager here?
STANLEY. That's right.
GOLDBERG. Is it a good game?
STANLEY. I run the house. I'm afraid you and your friend will have to find other accommodation.
GOLDBERG (rising). Oh, I forgot, I must congratulate you on your birthday. (Offering his hand.) Congratulations.
STANLEY (ignoring hand). Perhaps you're deaf.
GOLDBERG. No, what makes you think that? As a matter of fact, every single one of my senses is at its peak. Not bad going, eh? For a man past fifty. But a birthday, I always feel, is a great occasion, taken too much for granted these days. What a thing to celebrate-birth! Like getting up in the morning. Marvellous! Some people don't like the idea of getting up in the morning. I've heard them. Getting up in the morning, they say, what is it? Your skin's crabby, you need a shave, your eyes are full of muck, your mouth is like a boghouse, the palms of your hands are full of sweat, your nose is clogged up, your feet stink, what are you but a corpse waiting to be washed? Whenever I hear that point of view I feel cheerful. Because I know what it is to wake up with the sun shining, to the sound of the lawnmower, all the little birds, the smell of the grass, church bells, tomato juice-
STANLEY. Get out.
Enter MCCANN, with bottles.
Get that drink out. These are unlicensed premises.
GOLDBERG. You're in a terrible humour today, Mr Webber. And on your birthday too, with the good lady getting her strength up to give you a party.
MCCANN puts the bottles on the sideboard.
STANLEY. I told you to get those bottles out.
GOLDBERG. Mr Webber, sit down a minute.
STANLEY. Let me-just make this clear. You don't bother me. To me, you're nothing but a dirty joke. But I have a responsibility towards the people in this house. They've been down here too long. They've lost their sense of smell. I haven't. And nobody's going to take advantage of them while I'm here. (A little less forceful.) Anyway, this house isn't your cup of tea. There's nothing here for you, from any angle, any angle. So why don't you just go, without any more fuss?
GOLDBERG. Mr Webber, sit down.
STANLEY. It's no good starting any kind of trouble.
GOLDBERG. Sit down.
STANLEY. Why should I?
GOLDBERG. If you want to know the truth, Webber, you're beginning to get on my breasts.
STANLEY. Really? Well, that's-
GOLDBERG. Sit down.
STANLEY. No.
GOLDBERG sighs, and sits at the table right.
GOLDBERG. McCann.
MCCANN. Nat?
GOLDBERG. Ask him to sit down.
MCCANN. Yes, Nat. (MCCANN moves to STANLEY.) Do you mind sitting down?
STANLEY. Yes, I do mind.
MCCANN. Yes now, but-it'd be better if you did.
STANLEY. Why don't you sit down?
MCCANN. No, not me-you.
STANLEY. No thanks.
Pause.
MCCANN. Nat.
GOLDBERG. What?
MCCANN. He won't sit down.
GOLDBERG. Well, ask him.
MCCANN. I've asked him.
GOLDBERG. Ask him again.
MCCANN (to STANLEY). Sit down.
STANLEY. Why?
MCCANN. You'd be more comfortable.
STANLEY. So would you.
Pause.
MCCANN. All right. If you will I will.
STANLEY. You first.
MCCANN slowly sits at the table, left
MCCANN. Well?
STANLEY. Right. Now you've both had a rest you can get out!
MCCANN (rising). That's a dirty trick! I'll kick the shite out of him!
GOLDBERG (rising). No! I have stood up.
MCCANN. Sit down again!
GOLDBERG. Once I'm up I'm up.
STANLEY. Same here.
MCCANN (moving to STANLEY). You've made Mr Goldberg stand up.
STANLEY (his voice rising). It'll do him good!
MCCANN. Get in that seat.
GOLDBERG. McCann.
MCCANN. Get down in that seat!
GOLDBERG (crossing to him). Webber. (Quietly.) SIT DOWN. (Silence. STANLEY begins to whistle "The Mountains of Morne". He strolls casually to the chair at the table. They watch him. He stops whistling. Silence. He sits.)
STANLEY. You'd better be careful.
GOLDBERG. Webber, what were you doing yesterday?
STANLEY. Yesterday?
GOLDBERG. And the day before. What did you do the day before that?
STANLEY. What do you mean?
GOLDBERG. Why are you wasting everybody's time, Webber? Why are you getting in everybody's way?
STANLEY. Me? What are you-
GOLDBERG. I'm telling you, Webber. You're a washout. Why are you getting on everybody's wick? Why are you driving that old lady off her conk?
MCCANN. He likes to do it!
GOLDBERG. Why do you behave so badly, Webber? Why do you force that old man out to play chess?
STANLEY. Me?
GOLDBERG. Why do you treat that young lady like a leper? She's not the leper, Webber!
STANLEY. What the-
GOLDBERG. What did you wear last week, Webber? Where do you keep your suits?
MCCANN. Why did you leave the organization?
GOLDBERG. What would your old mum say, Webber?
MCCANN. Why did you betray us?
GOLDBERG. You hurt me, Webber. You're playing a dirty game.
MCCANN. That's a Black and Tan fact.
GOLDBERG. Who does he think he is?
MCCANN. Who do you think you are?
STANLEY. You're on the wrong horse.
GOLDBERG. When did you come to this place?
STANLEY. Last year.
GOLDBERG. Where did you come from?
STANLEY. Somewhere else.
GOLDBERG. Why did you come here?
STANLEY. My feet hurt!
GOLDBERG. Why did you stay?
STANLEY. I had a headache!
GOLDBERG. Did you take anything for it?
STANLEY. Yes.
GOLDBERG. What?
STANLEY. Fruit salts!
GOLDBERG. Enos or Andrews?
STANLEY. En-An-
GOLDBERG. Did you stir properly? Did they fizz?
STANLEY. Now, now, wait, you-
GOLDBERG. Did they fizz? Did they fizz or didn't they fizz?
MCCANN. He doesn't know!
GOLDBERG. You don't know. When did you last have a bath?
STANLEY. I have one every-
GOLDBERG. Don't lie.
MCCANN. You betrayed the organization. I know him!
STANLEY. You don't!
GOLDBERG. What can you see without your glasses?
STANLEY. Anything.
GOLDBERG. Take off his glasses.
MCCANN snatches his glasses and as STANLEY rises, reaching for them, takes his chair downstage centre, below the table, STANLEY stumbling as he follows. STANLEY clutches the chair and stays bent over it.
Webber, you're a fake. (They stand on each side of the chair.) When did you last wash up a cup?
STANLEY. The Christmas before last.
GOLDBERG. Where?
STANLEY. Lyons Corner House.
GOLDBERG. Which one?
STANLEY. Marble Arch.
GOLDBERG. Where was your wife?
STANLEY. In-
GOLDBERG. Answer.
STANLEY (turning, crouched). What wife?
GOLDBERG. What have you done with your wife?
MCCANN. He's killed his wife!
GOLDBERG. Why did you kill your wife?
STANLEY (sitting, his back to the audience). What wife?
MCCANN. How did he kill her?
GOLDBERG. How did you kill her?
MCCANN. You throttled her.
GOLDBERG. With arsenic.
MCCANN. There's your man!
GOLDBERG. Where's your old mum?
STANLEY. In the sanatorium.
MCCANN. Yes!
GOLDBERG. Why did you never get married?
MCCANN. She was waiting at the porch.
GOLDBERG. You skeddadled from the wedding.
MCCANN. He left her in the lurch.
GOLDBERG. You left her in the pudding club.
MCCANN. She was waiting at the church.
GOLDBERG. Webber! Why did you change your name?
STANLEY. I forgot the other one.
GOLDBERG. What's your name now?
STANLEY. Joe Soap.
GOLDBERG. You stink of sin.
MCCANN. I can smell it
GOLDBERG. Do you recognise an external force?
STANLEY. What?
GOLDBERG. Do you recognise an external force?
MCCANN. That's the question!
GOLDBERG. Do you recognise an external force, responsible for you, suffering for you?
STANLEY. It's late.
GOLDBERG. Late! Late enough! When did you last pray?
MCCANN. He's sweating!
GOLDBERG. When did you last pray?
MCCANN. He's sweating!
GOLDBERG. Is the number 846 possible or necessary?
STANLEY. Neither.
GOLDBERG. Wrong! Is the number 846 possible or necessary?
STANLEY. Both.
GOLDBERG. Wrong! It's necessary but not possible.
STANLEY. Both.
GOLDBERG. Wrong! Why do you think the number 846 is necessarily possible?
STANLEY. Must be.
GOLDBERG. Wrong! It's only necessarily necessary! We admit possibility only after we grant necessity. It is possible because necessary but by no means necessary through possibility. The possibility can only be assumed after the proof of necessity.
MCCANN. Right!
GOLDBERG. Right? Of course right! We're right and you're wrong, Webber, all along the line.
MCCANN. All along the line!
GOLDBERG. Where is your lechery leading you?
MCCANN. You'll pay for this.
GOLDBERG. You stuff yourself with dry toast.
MCCANN. You contaminate womankind.
GOLDBERG. Why don't you pay the rent?
MCCANN. Mother defiler!
GOLDBERG. Why do you pick your nose?
MCCANN. I demand justice!
GOLDBERG. What's your trade?
MCCANN. What about Ireland?
GOLDBERG. What's your trade?
STANLEY. I play the piano.
GOLDBERG. How many fingers do you use?
STANLEY. No hands!
GOLDBERG. No society would touch you. Not even a building society.
MCCANN. You're a traitor to the cloth.
GOLDBERG. What do you use for pyjamas?
STANLEY. Nothing.
GOLDBERG. You verminate the sheet of your birth.
MCCANN. What about the Albigensenist heresy?
GOLDBERG. Who watered the wicket in Melbourne?
MCCANN. What about the blessed Oliver Plunkett?
GOLDBERG. Speak up, Webber. Why did the chicken cross the road?
STANLEY. He wanted to-he wanted to-he wanted to….
MCCANN. He doesn't know!
GOLDBERG. Why did the chicken cross the road?
STANLEY. He wanted to-he wanted to….
GOLDBERG. Why did the chicken cross the road?
STANLEY. He wanted….
MCCANN. He doesn't know. He doesn't know which came first!
GOLDBERG. Which came first?
MCCANN. Chicken? Egg? Which came first?
GOLDBERG and MCCANN. Which came first? Which came first? Which came first?
STANLEY screams.
GOLDBERG. He doesn't know. Do you know your own face?
MCCANN. Wake him up. Stick a needle in his eye.
GOLDBERG. You're a plague, Webber. You're an overthrow.
MCCANN. You're what's left!
GOLDBERG. But we've got the answer to you. We can sterilise you.
MCCANN. What about Drogheda?
GOLDBERG. Your bite is dead. Only your pong is left.
MCCANN. You betrayed our land.
GOLDBERG. You betray our breed.
MCCANN. Who are you, Webber?
GOLDBERG. What makes you think you exist?
MCCANN. You're dead.
GOLDBERG. You're dead. You can't live, you can't think, you can't love. You're dead. You're a plague gone bad. There's no juice in you. You're nothing but an odour!
Silence. They stand over him. He is crouched in the chair. He looks up slowly and hicks GOLDBERG in the stomach. GOLDBERG falls. STANLEY stands. MCCANN seizes a chair and lifts it above his head. stanley seizes a chair and covers his head with it. MCCANN and STANLEY circle.
GOLDBERG. Steady, McCann.
STANLEY (circling). Uuuuuhhhhh!
MCCANN. Right, Judas.
GOLDBERG (rising). Steady, McCann.
MCCANN. Come on!
STANLEY. Uuuuuuuhhhhh!
MCCANN. He's sweating.
STANLEY. Uuuuuhhhhh!
GOLDBERG. Easy, McCann.
MCCANN. The bastard sweatpig is sweating.
A loud drumbeat off left, descending the stairs. GOLDBERG takes the chair from STANLEY. They put the chairs down. They stop still. Enter MEG, in evening dress, holding sticks and drum.
MEG. I brought the drum down. I'm dressed for the party.
GOLDBERG. Wonderful.
MEG. You like my dress?
GOLDBERG. Wonderful. Out of this world.
MEG. I know. My father gave it to me. (Placing drum on table.) Doesn't it make a beautiful noise?
GOLDBERG. It's a fine piece of work. Maybe Stan'll play us a little tune afterwards.
MEG. Oh yes. Will you, Stan?
STANLEY. Could I have my glasses?
GOLDBERG. Ah yes. (He holds his hand out to MCCANN. MCCANN passes him his glasses.) Here they are. (He holds them out for STANLEY, who reaches for them.) Here they are. (STANLEY takes them.) Now. What have we got here? Enough to scuttle a liner. We've got four bottles of Scotch and one bottle of Irish.
MEG. Oh, Mr Goldberg, what should I drink?
GOLDBERG. Glasses, glasses first. Open the Scotch, McCann.
MEG (at the sideboard). Here's my very best glasses in here.
MCCANN. I don't drink Scotch.
GOLDBERG. You've got the Irish.
MEG (bringing the glasses). Here they are.
GOLDBERG. Good. Mrs Boles, I think Stanley should pour the toast, don't you?
MEG. Oh yes. Come on, Stanley. (STANLEY walks slowly to the table.) Do you like my dress, Mr Goldberg?
GOLDBERG. It's out on its own. Turn yourself round a minute. I used to be in the business. Go on, walk up there.
MEG. Oh no.
GOLDBERG. Don't be shy. (He slaps her bottom.)
MEG. Oooh!
GOLDBERG. Walk up the boulevard. Let's have a look at you. What a carriage. What's your opinion, McCann? like a Countess, nothing less. Madam, now turn about and promenade to the kitchen. What a deportment!
MCCANN (to STANLEY). You can pour my Irish too.
GOLDBERG. You look like a Gladiola.
MEG. Stan, what about my dress?
GOLDBERG. One for the lady, one for the lady. Now madam-your glass.
MEG. Thank you.
GOLDBERG. Lift your glasses, ladies and gentlemen. We'll drink a toast
MEG. Lulu isn't here.
GOLDBERG. It's past the hour. Now-who's going to propose the toast? Mrs Boles, it can only be you.
MEG. Me?
GOLDBERG. Who else?
MEG. But what do I say?
GOLDBERG. Say what you feel. What you honestly feel, (MEG looks uncertain.) It's Stanley's birthday. Your Stanley. Look at him. Look at him and it'll come. Wait a minute, the light's too strong. Let's have proper lighting. McCann, have you got your torch?
MCCANN (bringing a small torch from his pocket). Here.
GOLDBERG. Switch out the light and put on your torch. (MCCANN goes to the door, switches off the light, comes back, shines the torch on MEG. Outside the window there is still a faint light.) Not on the lady, on the gentleman! You must shine it on the birthday boy. (MCCANN shines the torch in STANLEY'S face.) Now, Mrs Boles, it's all yours.
Pause.
MEG. I don't know what to say.
GOLDBERG. Look at him. Just look at him.
MEG. Isn't the light in his eyes?
GOLDBERG. No, no. Go on.
MEG. Well-it's very, very nice to be here tonight, in my house, and I want to propose a toast to Stanley, because it's his birthday, and he's lived here for a long while now, and he's my Stanley now. And I think he's a good boy, although sometimes he's bad. (An appreciative laugh from GOLDBERG.) And he's the only Stanley I know, and I know him better than all the world, although he doesn't think so. ("Hear-hear" from GOLDBERG.) Well, I could cry because I'm so happy, having him here and not gone away, on his birthday, and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him, and all you good people here tonigh…. (She sobs.)
GOLDBERG. Beautiful! A beautiful speech. Put the light on, McCann. (MCCANN goes to the door. STANLEY remains still.) That was a lovely toast. (The light goes on. LULU enters from the door, left. GOLDBERG comforts MEG.) Buck up now. Come on, smile at the birdy. That's better. Ah, look who's here.
MEG. Lulu.
GOLDBERG. How do you do, Lulu? I'm Nat Goldberg.
LULU. Hallo.
GOLDBERG. Stanley, a drink for your guest. You just missed the toast, my dear, and what a toast.
LULU. Did I?
GOLDBERG. Stanley, a drink for your guest. Stanley. (STANLEY hands a glass to LULU.) Right. Now raise your glasses. Everyone standing up? No, not you, Stanley. You must sit down.
MCCANN. Yes, that's right. He must sit down.
GOLDBERG. You don't mind sitting down a minute? We're going to drink to you.
MEG. Come on!
LULU. Come on!
STANLEY sits in a chair at the table.
GOLDBERG. Right. Now Stanley's sat down. (Taking the stage.) Well, I want to say first that I've never been so touched to the heart as by the toast we've just heard. How often, in this day and age, do you come across real, true warmth? Once in a lifetime. Until a few minutes ago, ladies and gentlemen, I, like all of you, was asking the same question. What's happened to the love, the bonhomie, the unashamed expression of affection of the day before yesterday, that our mums taught us in the nursery?
MCCANN. Gone with the wind.
GOLDBERG. That's what I thought, until today. I believe in a good laugh, a day's fishing, a bit of gardening. I was very proud of my old greenhouse, made out of my own spit and faith. That's the sort of man I am. Not size but quality. A little Austin, tea in Fullers, a library book from Boots, and I'm satisfied. But just now, I say just now, the lady of the house said her piece and I for one am knocked over by the sentiments she expressed. Lucky is the man who's at the receiving end, that's what I say. (Pause.) How can I put it to you? We all wander on our tod through this world. It's a lonely pillow to kip on. Right!
LULU (admiringly). Right!
GOLDBERG. Agreed. But tonight, Lulu, McCann, we've known a great fortune. We've heard a lady extend the sum total of her devotion, in all its pride, plume and peacock, to a member of her own living race. Stanley, my heartfelt congratulations. I wish you, on behalf of us all, a happy birthday. I'm sure you've never been a prouder man than you are today. Mazoltov! And may we only meet at Simchahs! (LULU and MEG applaud.) Turn out the light, McCann, while we drink the toast.
LULU. That was a wonderful speech.
MCCANN switches out the light, comes back, and shines the torch in STANLEY'S face. The light outside the window is fainter.
GOLDBERG. Lift your glasses. Stanley-happy birthday.
MCCANN. Happy birthday.
LULU. Happy birthday.
MEG. Many happy returns of the day, Stan.
GOLDBERG. And well over the fast.
They all drink.
MEG (kissing him). Oh, Stanny….
GOLDBERG. Lights!
MCCANN. Right! (He switches on the lights.)
MEG. Clink my glass, Stan.
LULU. Mr Goldberg-
GOLDBERG. Call me Nat.
MEG (to MCCANN). You clink my glass.
LULU (to GOLDBERG). You're empty. Let me fill you up.
GOLDBERG. It's a pleasure.
LULU. You're a marvellous speaker, Nat, you know that? Where did you learn to speak like that?
GOLDBERG. You liked it, eh?
LULU. Oh yes!
GOLDBERG. Well, my first chance to stand up and give a lecture was at the Ethical Hall, Bayswater. A wonderful opportunity. I'll never forget it. They were all there that night. Charlotte Street was empty. Of course, that's a good while ago.
LULU. What did you speak about?
GOLDBERG. The Necessary and the Possible. It went like a bomb. Since then I always speak at weddings.
STANLEY is still. GOLDBERG sits left of the table. MEG joins MCCANN downstage, right, LULU is downstage, left. MCCANN pours more Irish from the bottle, which he carries, into his glass.
MEG. Let's have some of yours.
MCCANN. In that?
MEG. Yes.
MCCANN. Are you used to mixing them?
MEG. No.
MCCANN. Give me your glass.
MEG sits on a shoe-box, downstage, right, LULU, at the table, pours more drink for GOLDBERG and herself, and gives GOLDBERG his glass.
GOLDBERG. Thank you.
MEG (to MCCANN). Do you think I should?
GOLDBERG. Lulu, you're a big bouncy girl. Come and sit on my lap.
MCCANN. Why not?
LULU. Do you think I should?
GOLDBERG. Try it.
MEG (sipping). Very nice.
LULU. I'll bounce up to the ceiling.
MCCANN. I don't know how you can mix that stuff.
GOLDBERG. Take a chance.
MEG (to MCCANN). Sit down on this stool.
LULU sits on GOLDBERG'S lap.
MCCANN. This?
GOLDBERG. Comfortable?
LULU. Yes thanks.
MCCANN (sitting). It's comfortable.
GOLDBERG. You know, there's a lot in your eyes.
LULU. And in yours, too.
GOLDBERG. Do you think so?
LULU (giggling). Go on!
MCCANN (to MEG). Where'd you get it?
MEG. My father gave it to me.
LULU. I didn't know I was going to meet you here tonight.
MCCANN (to MEG). Ever been to Carrikmacross?
MEG (drinking). I've been to King's Cross.
LULU. You came right out of the blue, you know that?
GOLDBERG (as she moves). Mind how you go. You're cracking a rib.
MEG (standing). I want to dance! (LULU and GOLDBERG look into each other's eyes. MCCANN drinks. MEG crosses to STANLEY). Stanley. Dance. (STANLEY sits still. MEG dances round the room alone, then comes back to MCCANN, who fills her glass. She sits.)
LULU (to GOLDBERG). Shall I tell you something?
GOLDBERG. What?
LULU. I trust you.
GOLDBERG (lifting his glass). Gesundheit.
LULU. Have you got a wife?
GOLDBERG. I had a wife. What a wife. Listen to this. Friday, of an afternoon, I'd take myself for a little constitutional, down over the park. Eh, do me a favour, just sit on the table a minute, will you? (LULU sits on the table. He stretches and continues.) A little constitutional. I'd say hullo to the little boys, the little girls-I never made distinctions-and then back I'd go, back to my bungalow with the flat roof. "Simey," my wife used to shout, "quick, before it gets cold!" And there on the table what would I see? The nicest piece of rollmop and pickled cucumber you could wish to find on a plate,
LULU. I thought your name was Nat.
GOLDBERG. She called me Simey.
LULU. I bet you were a good husband.
GOLDBERG. You should have seen her funeral.
LULU. Why?
GOLDBERG (draws in his breath and wags head). What a funeral.
MEG (to MCCANN). My father was going to take me to Ireland once. But then he went away by himself.
LULU (to GOLDBERG). Do you think you knew me when I was a little girl?
GOLDBERG. Were you a nice little girl?
LULU. I was.
MEG. I don't know if he went to Ireland.
GOLDBERG. Maybe I played piggy-back with you.
LULU. Maybe you did.
MEG. He didn't take me.
GOLDBERG. Or pop goes the weasel.
LULU. Is that a game?
GOLDBERG. Sure it's a game!
MCCANN. Why didn't he take you to Ireland?
LULU. You're tickling me!
GOLDBERG. You should worry.
LULU. I've always liked older men. They can soothe you.
They embrace.
MCCANN. I know a place. Roscrea. Mother Nolan's.
MEG. There was a night-light in my room, when I was a little girl.
MCCANN. One time I stayed there all night with the boys. Singing and drinking all night.
MEG. And my Nanny used to sit up with me, and sing songs to me.
MCCANN. And a plate of fry in the morning. Now where am I?
MEG. My little room was pink. I had a pink carpet and pink curtains, and I had musical boxes all over the room. And they played me to sleep. And my father was a very big doctor. That's why I never had any complaints. I was cared for, and I had little sisters and brothers in other rooms, all different colours.
MCCANN. Tullamore, where are you?
MEG (to MCCANN). Give us a drop more.
MCCANN (filling her glass and singing). Glorio, Glorio, to the bold Fenian men!
MEG. Oh, what a lovely voice.
GOLDBERG. Give us a song, McCann.
LULU. A love song!
MCCANN (reciting). The night that poor Paddy was stretched, the boys they all paid him a visit.
GOLDBERG. A love song!
MCCANN (in a full voice, sings)
Oh, the Garden of Eden has vanished, they say,
But I know the lie of it still.
Just turn to the left at the foot of Ben Clay
And stop when halfway to Coote Hill.
It's there you will find it, I know sure enough,
And it's whispering over to me:
Come back, Paddy Reilly, to Bally-James-Duff,
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me!
LULU (to GOLDBERG). You're the dead image of the first man I ever loved.
GOLDBERG. It goes without saying.
MEG (rising). I want to play a game!
GOLDBERG. A game?
LULU. What game?
MEG. Any game.
LULU (jumping up). Yes, let's play a game.
GOLDBERG. What game?
MCCANN. Hide and seek.
LULU. Blind man's buff.
MEG. Yes!
GOLDBERG. You want to play blind man's buff?
LULU and MEG. Yes!
GOLDBERG. All right. Blind man's buff. Come on! Everyone up! (Rising.) McCann. Stanley-Stanley!
MEG. Stanley. Up.
GOLDBERG. What's the matter with him?
MEG (bending over him). Stanley, we're going to play a game. Oh, come on, don't be sulky, Stan.
LULU. Come on.
STANLEY rises. MCCANN rises.
GOLDBERG. Right! Now-who's going to be blind first?
LULU. Mrs Boles.
MEG. Not me.
GOLDBERG. Of course you.
MEG. Who, me?
LULU (taking her scarf from her neck). Here you are.
MCCANN. How do you play this game?
LULU (tying her scarf round MEG'S eyes). Haven't you ever played blind man's buff? Keep still, Mrs Boles. You mustn't be touched. But you can't move after she's blind. You must stay where you are after she's blind. And if she touches you then you become blind. Turn round. How many fingers am I holding up?
MEG. I can't see.
LULU. Right.
GOLDBERG. Right! Everyone move about. McCann. Stanley. Now stop. Now still. Off you go!
STANELY is downstage, right, MEG moves about the room. GOLDBERG fondles LULU at arm's length. MEG touches MCCANN.
MEG. Caught you!
LULU. Take off your scarf.
MEG. What lovely hair!
LULU (untying the scarf). There.
MEG. It's you!
GOLDBERG. Put it on, McCann.
LULU (tying it on MCCANN). There. Turn round. How many fingers am I holding up?
MCCANN. I don't know.
GOLDBERG. Right! Everyone move about. Right. Stop! Still!
MCCANN begins to move.
MEG. Oh, this is lovely!
GOLDBERG. Quiet! Tch, tch, tch. Now-all move again. Stop! Still!
MCCANN moves about. GOLDBERG fondles LULU at arm's length. MCCANN draws near STANLEY. He stretches his arm and touches STANLEY'S glasses,
MEG. It's Stanley!
GOLDBERG (to LULU). Enjoying the game?
MEG. It's your turn, Stan.
MCCANN takes off the scarf.
MCCANN (to STANLEY). I'll take your glasses.
MCCANN takes STANLEY'S glasses.
MEG. Give me the scarf.
GOLDBERG (holding LULU). Tie his scarf, Mrs. Boles.
MEG. That's what I'm doing. (To STANLEY.) Can you see my nose?
GOLDBERG. He can't. Ready? Right! Everyone move. Stop! And still!
STANLEY stands blindfold. MCCANN backs slowly across the stage to the left. He breaks STANLEY'S glasses, snapping the frames, MEG is downstage, left, LULU and GOLDBERG upstage centre, close together. STANLEY begins to move, very slowly, across the stage to the left. MCCANN picks up the drum and places it sideways in STANLEY'S path. STANLEY walks into the drum and falls over with his foot caught in it.
MEG. Ooh!
GOLDBERG. Sssh!
STANLEY rises. He begins to move towards MEG, dragging the drum on his foot. He reaches her and stops. His hands move towards her and they reach her throat. He begins to strangle her. MCCANN and GOLDBERG rush forward and throw him off.
BLACKOUT
There is now no light at all through the window. The stage is in darkness.
LULU. The lights!
GOLDBERG. What's happened?
LULU. The lights!
MCCANN. Wait a minute.
GOLDBERG. Where is he?
MCCANN. Let go of me!
GOLDBERG. Who's this?
LULU. Someone's touching me!
MCCANN. Where is he?
MEG. Why has the light gone out?
GOLDBERG. Where's your torch? (MCCANN shines the torch in GOLDBERG'S face.) Not on me! (MCCANN shifts the torch. It is knocked from his hand and falls. It goes out.)
MCCANN. My torch!
LULU. Oh God!
GOLDBERG. Where's your torch? Pick up your torch!
MCCANN. I can't find it.
LULU. Hold me. Hold me.
GOLDBERG. Get down on your knees. Help him find the torch.
LULU. I can't.
MCCANN. It's gone.
MEG. Why has the light gone out?
GOLDBERG. Everyone quiet! Help him find the torch.
Silence. Grunts from MCCANN and GOLDBERG on their knees. Suddenly there is a sharp, sustained rat-a-tat with a stick on the side of the drum from the back of the room. Silence. Whimpers from LULU.
GOLDBERG. Over here. McCann!
MCCANN. Here.
GOLDBERG. Come to me, come to me. Easy. Over there. GOLDBERG and MCCANN move up left of the table. STANLEY moves down right of the table. LULU suddenly perceives him moving towards her, screams and faints. GOLDBERG and MCCANN turn and stumble against each other.
GOLDBERG. What is it?
MCCANN. Who's that?
GOLDBERG. What is it?
In the darkness STANLEY picks up LULU and places her on the table.
MEG. It's Lulu!
GOLDBERG and MCCANN move downstage, right.
GOLDBERG. Where is she?
MCCANN. She fell.
GOLDBERG. Where?
MCCANN. About here.
GOLDBERG. Help me pick her up.
MCCANN (moving downstage, left). I can't find her.
GOLDBERG. She must be somewhere.
MCCANN. She's not here.
GOLDBERG (moving downstage, left). She must be.
MCCANN. She's gone.
MCCANN finds the torch on the floor, shines it on the table and stanley. LULU is lying spread-eagled on the table, STANLEY bent over her. STANLEY, as soon as the torchlight hits him, begins to giggle. GOLDBERG and MCCANN move towards him. He backs, giggling, the torch on his face. They follow him upstage, left. He backs against the hatch, giggling. The torch draws closer. His giggle rises and grows as he flattens himself against the wall. Their figures converge upon him.
Curtain
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