by Edward Albee
(JULIA laughs openly)
Then the poor sweet thing gave me a look I couldn’t tell was either a D minus, or she was going to send me home with a letter to my mother, and she said, sort of far away, “I think you need the manager.” And off she walked.
TOBIAS
(Handing CLAIRE her martini; mildly amused throughout)
What were you doing buying a bathing suit in October, anyway?
JULIA
Oh, Dad!
CLAIRE
No, now; it’s a man’s question.
(Sips)
Wow, what a good martini.
TOBIAS
(Still standing over her, rather severe)
Truth will get you nowhere. Why?
CLAIRE
Why? Well.
(Thinks)
… maybe I’ll go on a trip somewhere.
TOBIAS
That would please Agnes.
CLAIRE (Nods)
As few things would. What I meant was, maybe Toby’ll walk in one day, trailing travel folders, rip his tie off, announce he’s fed up to there with the north, the east, the suburbs, the regulated great gray life, dwindling before him—poor Toby—and has bought him an island off Paraguay …
TOBIAS
… which has no seacoast …
CLAIRE
… yes, way off—has bought him this island, and is taking us all to that, to hack through the whatever, build us an enormous lean-to, all of us. Take us away, to where it is always good and happy.
(Watches TOBIAS, who looks at his drink, frowning a little)
JULIA (She, too)
Would you, Dad?
TOBIAS
(Looks up, sees them both looking at him, frowns more)
It’s … it’s too late, or something.
(Small silence)
CLAIRE (To lighten it)
Or, maybe I simply wanted a topless bathing suit.
(Pause)
No? Well, then … maybe it’s more complicated yet. I mean, Claire couldn’t find herself a man if she tried, and here comes Julia, home from the wars …
TOBIAS (Quiet contradiction)
You could find a man.
CLAIRE (Some bitterness)
Indeed, I have found several, briefly, and none my own.
TOBIAS
(To JULIA; terribly offhand)
Julia, don’t you think Auntie Claire could find herself a man?
JULIA (Didactic)
I don’t like the subject.
CLAIRE
… and here comes Julia, home from the wars, four purple hearts …
JULIA
Why don’t you just have another drink and stop it, Claire?
CLAIRE
(Looks at her empty glass, shrugs)
All right.
JULIA (Rather defensive)
I have left Doug. We are not divorced.
CLAIRE
Yet! Are you cooking a second batch, Tobias?
(Back to JULIA)
But you’ve come back home, haven’t you? And didn’t you—with the others?
JULIA (Her back up)
Where else am I supposed to go?
CLAIRE
It’s a great big world, baby. There are hotels, new cities. Home is the quickest road to Reno I know of.
JULIA (Condescending)
You’ve had a lot of experience in these matters, Claire.
CLAIRE
Sidelines! Good seats, right on the fifty-yard line, objective observer.
(Texas accent, or near it)
I swar! Ef I din’t love muh sister so, Ah’d say she got yuh hitched fur the pleasure uh gettin’ yuh back.
JULIA
TOBIAS
ALL RIGHT!
THAT WILL DO NOW!
CLAIRE
(In the silence that follows)
Sorry. Very … very sorry.
(AGNES appears through the archway)
AGNES
(What she may have overheard she gives no indication of)
“They” tell me in the kitchen … “they” tell me we are about to dine. In a bit. Are we having a cocktail? I think one might be nice.
(Puts her arm around JULIA as she passes her)
It’s one of those days when everything’s underneath. But, we are all together … which is something.
JULIA
Quite a few of us.
TOBIAS
Any word from …
(Points to the ceiling)
… up there?
AGNES
No. I dropped upstairs—well, that doesn’t make very much sense, does it?—I happened upstairs, and I knocked at Harry and Edna’s Julia’s room, door, and after a moment I heard Harry say, “It’s all right; we’re all right.” I didn’t have the … well, I felt such an odd mixture of … embarrassment and irritation, and … apprehension, I suppose, and … fatigue … I didn’t persevere.
TOBIAS
Well, haven’t they been out? I mean, haven’t they eaten or anything?
AGNES
Will you make me a … thing, a martini, please? I am told—“they” tell me that while we were all out, at our various whatever-they-may-be’s, Edna descended, asked them to make sandwiches, which were brought to the closed door and handed in.
TOBIAS
Well, God, I mean …
AGNES (Rather a recitation)
There is no point in pressing it, they are our very dear friends, they will tell us in good time.
CLAIRE
(Looking through her glass)
I had a glimmer of it last night; thought I knew.
AGNES (So gracious)
That which we see in the bottom of our glass is most often dregs.
CLAIRE
(Peers into her glass, over-curious)
Really? Truly so?
TOBIAS
(Holding a glass out to AGNES)
Did you say you wanted?
AGNES
(Her eyes still on CLAIRE)
Yes, I did, thank you.
CLAIRE
I have been trying, without very much success, to find out why Miss Julie here is come home.
AGNES
I would imagine Julia is home because she wishes to be, and it is where she belongs if she wants.
TOBIAS
That’s logistics, isn’t it?
AGNES
You too?
JULIA
He’s against everything!
AGNES
Your father?
JULIA
Doug!
AGNES
You needn’t make a circus of it; tell me later, when …
JULIA
War, marriage, money, children …
AGNES
You needn’t!
JULIA
You! Daddy! Government! Claire—if he’d met her … everything!
CLAIRE
Well, I doubt he’d dislike me; I’m against everything too.
AGNES (To JULIA)
You’re tired; we’ll talk about it after …
JULIA (Sick disgust)
I’ve talked about it! I just talked about it!
AGNES (Quiet boring in)
I’m sure there’s more.
JULIA
There is no more.
AGNES (Clenched teeth)
There is a great deal more, and I’ll hear it from you later, when we’re alone. You have not come to us in your fourth debacle. …
JULIA
HE IS OPPOSED! AND THAT IS ALL! TO EVERYTHING!
AGNES (After a small silence)
Perhaps after dinner.
JULIA
NO! NOT PERHAPS AFTER DINNER!
TOBIAS
ALL OF YOU! BE STILL!
(Silence)
CLAIRE (Flat; to TOBIAS)
Are we having our dividend, or are we not?
(Silence; then, a gentle mocking apology)
“All happy families are alike.”
(HARRY and EDNA appear i
n the archway, coats on or over arms)
HARRY (A little embarrassed)
Well.
CLAIRE (Exaggerated bonhomie)
Well, look who’s here!
TOBIAS (Embarrassed)
Harry, just in time for a martini. …
HARRY
No, no, we’re … Julia, there you are!
EDNA (Affectionate commiseration)
Oh, Julia.
JULIA (Bravely, nicely)
Hello there.
AGNES (On her feet)
There’s just time for a drink before dinner, if my husband will hurry some. …
HARRY
No, we’re … going home now.
AGNES
(Relief peeking through the surprise)
Oh? Yes?
EDNA
Yes.
(Pause)
AGNES
Well.
(Pause)
If we were any help at all, we …
HARRY
To … uh, to get our things.
(Silence)
Our clothes, and things.
EDNA
Yes.
HARRY
We’ll be back in … well, after dinner, so don’t …
EDNA
An hour or two. It’ll take us a while.
(Silence)
HARRY
We’ll let ourselves … don’t bother.
(They start out, tentatively, see that the others are merely staring at them. Exit. Silence)
JULIA
(Controlled, but near tears)
I want my room back! I want my room!
AGNES
(Composed, chilly, standing in the archway)
I believe that dinner is served. …
TOBIAS (Vacant)
Yes?
AGNES
If any of you have the stomach for it.
CURTAIN
SCENE TWO
(Same set, after dinner, the same evening AGNES and TOBIAS to one side, AGNES standing TOBIAS not; JULIA in another corner, not facing them)
JULIA
(A statement, directed to neither of them)
That was, without question, the ugliest dinner I have ever sat through.
AGNES (Seemingly pleased)
What did you say?
(No answer)
Now, what can you mean? Was the ragout not to your pleasure? Did the floating island sink? Watch what you say, for your father is proud of his wines. …
JULIA
No! You! Sitting there! Like a combination … pope, and … “We will not discuss it”; “Claire, be still”; “No, Tobias, the table is not the proper place”; “Julia!” … nanny! Like a nanny!
AGNES
When we are dealing with children …
JULIA
I must discover, sometime, who you think you are.
AGNES (Icy)
You will learn … one day.
JULIA
No, more like a drill sergeant! You will do this, you will not say that.
AGNES
“To keep in shape.” Have you heard the expression? Most people misunderstand it, assume it means alteration, when it does not. Maintenance. When we keep something in shape, we maintain its shape—whether we are proud of that shape, or not, is another matter—we keep it from falling apart. We do not attempt the impossible. We maintain. We hold.
JULIA
Yes? So?
AGNES (Quietly)
I shall … keep this family in shape. I shall maintain it; hold it.
JULIA (A sneer)
But you won’t attempt the impossible.
AGNES (A smile)
I shall keep it in shape. If I am a drill sergeant … so be it. Since nobody … really wants to talk about your latest … marital disorder, really wants to talk around it, use it as an excuse for all sorts of horrid little revenges … I think we can at least keep the table … unlittered of that.
JULIA
(Sarcastic salute, not rising though)
Yes, sir.
AGNES (Reasonable)
And, if I shout, it’s merely to be heard … above the awful din of your privacies and sulks … all of you. I am not being an ogre, am I?
TOBIAS (Not anxious to argue)
No, no; very … reasonable.
AGNES
If I am a stickler on certain points
(Just as JULIA’s mouth opens to speak)
—a martinet, as Julia would have it, would you not, sweet? in fact, were you not about to?—if I am a stickler on points of manners, timing, tact—the graces, I almost blush to call them—it is simply that I am the one member of this … reasonably happy family blessed and burdened with the ability to view a situation objectively while I am in it.
JULIA (Not really caring)
What time is it?
AGNES (A little harder now)
The double position of seeing not only facts but their implications …
TOBIAS
Nearly ten.
AGNES
(Some irritation toward both of them)
… the longer view as well as the shorter. There is a balance to be maintained, after all, though the rest of you teeter, unconcerned, or uncaring, assuming you’re on level ground … by divine right, I gather, though that is hardly so. And if I must be the fulcrum. …
(Sees neither of them is really listening, says in the same tone)
… I think I shall have a divorce.
(Smiles to see that her words have had no effect)
TOBIAS (It sinks in)
Have what? A what?
AGNES
No fear; merely testing. Everything is taken for granted and no one listens.
TOBIAS (Wrinkling his nose)
Have a divorce?
AGNES
No, no; Julia has them for all of us. Not even separation; that is taken care of, and in life: the gradual … demise of intensity, the private preoccupations, the substitutions. We become allegorical, my darling Tobias, as we grow older. The individuality we hold so dearly sinks into crotchet; we see ourselves repeated by those we bring into it all, either by mirror or rejection, honor or fault.
(To herself, really)
I’m not a fool; I’m really not.
JULIA
(Leafing a magazine; clear lack of interest but not insulting)
What’s Claire up to?
AGNES
(Walking to TOBIAS, a hand on his shoulder)
Really not at all.
TOBIAS (Looking up; fondness)
No; really not.
AGNES
(Surprisingly unfriendly; to JULIA)
How would I know what she’s doing?
JULIA (She too)
Well, you are the fulcrum and all around here, the double vision, the great balancing act. …
(Lets it slide away)
AGNES
(A little triste; looking away)
I dare say she’s in her room.
JULIA (Little girl)
At least she has one.
AGNES
(Swinging around to face her; quite hard)
Well, why don’t you run upstairs and claim your goddamn room back! Barricade yourself in there! Push a bureau in front of the door! Take Tobias’ pistol while you’re at it! Arm yourself!
(A burst from an accordion; CLAIRE appears in the archway, wearing it)
CLAIRE
Barricades? Pistols? Really? So soon?
JULIA
(Giggling in spite of herself)
Oh, Claire …
AGNES (Not amused)
Claire, will you take off that damned thing!
CLAIRE
“They laughed when I sat down to the accordion.” Take it off? No, I will not! This is going to be a festive night—from the smell of it, and sister Claire wants to do her part—pay her way, so to speak … justify.
AGNES
You’re not going to play that dreadful instrument in here, and …
(But
the rest of what she wants to say is drowned out by a chord from the accordion)
Tobias?
(Calm)
Do something about that.
TOBIAS (He, too, chuckling)
Oh, now, Agnes …
CLAIRE
So …
(Another chord)
… shall I wait? Shall I start now? A polka? What?
AGNES (Icy, but to TOBIAS)
My sister is not really lazy. The things she has learned since leaving the nest!: gaucherie, ingratitude, drunkenness, and even … this. She has become a musician, too.
CLAIRE (A twang in her voice)
Maw used to say: “Claire, girl” … she had an uncle named Claire, so she always called me Claire-girl—
AGNES (No patience with it)
That is not so.
CLAIRE
“Claire girl,” she used to say, “when you go out into the world, get dumped outa the nest, or pushed by your sister …”
AGNES (Steady, but burning)
Lies.
(Eyes slits)
She kept you, allowed you … tolerated! Put up with your filth, your … “emancipated womanhood.”
(To JULIA, overly sweet)
Even in her teens, your Auntie Claire had her own and very special ways, was very … advanced.
CLAIRE (Laughs)
Had a ball, the same as you, ’cept I wasn’t puce with socially proper remorse every time.
(To JULIA)
Your mommy got her pudenda scuffed a couple times herself ’fore she met old Toby, you know.
TOBIAS
Your what?
AGNES (Majesty)
My pudenda.
CLAIRE (A little grumpy)
You can come on all forgetful in your old age, if you want to, but just remember …
AGNES (Quiet anger)
I am not an old woman.
(Sudden thought; to TOBIAS)
Am I?
TOBIAS (No help; great golly-gosh)
Well, you’re my old lady. …
(AGNES almost says something, changes her mind, shakes her head, laughs softly)
CLAIRE (A chord)
Well, what’ll it be?
JULIA (Glum)
Save it for Harry and Edna.
CLAIRE
Save it for Harry and Edna? Save it for them?
(Chord)
AGNES (Nice)
Please.
CLAIRE
All right; I’ll unload.
(Removes accordion)
AGNES
I dare say.
(Stops)
TOBIAS
What?
AGNES
No. Nothing.
CLAIRE (Half-smile)
We’re waiting, aren’t we?
TOBIAS
Hm?
CLAIRE
Waiting. The room; the doctor’s office; beautiful unconcern; intensive study of the dreadful curtains; absorption in Field and Stream, waiting for the Bi-op-see.
