GARCIN: Have it your own way. I suppose we were bound to come to this; they knew what they were about, and we’re easy game. If they’d put me in a room with men-men can keep their mouths shut. But it’s no use wanting the impossible. So I attract you, little girl? (Fondles her.) It seems you were making eyes at me?
ESTELLE: Don’t touch me.
GARCIN: Why not? We might, anyhow, be natural… Do you know, I used to be mad about women? And some were fond of me. So we may as well stop posing, we’ve nothing to lose. Why trouble about politeness, and decorum, and the rest of it? We’re between ourselves. And presently we shall be naked as – as newborn babes.
ESTELLE: Oh, let me be!
GARCIN: As newborn babes. Well, I’d warned you, anyhow. I asked so little of you, nothing but peace and a little silence. I’d put my fingers in my ears. Gomez was spouting away as usual, standing in the center of the room, with all the pressmen listening. In their shirt-sleeves. I tried to hear, but it wasn’t easy. Things on earth move so quickly, you know. Couldn’t you have held your tongues? Now it’s over, he’s stopped talking, and what he thinks of me has gone back into his head. Well, we’ve got to see it through somehow…Naked as we were born. So much the better; I want to know whom I have to deal with.
INEZ: You know already. There’s nothing more to learn.
GARCIN: You’re wrong. So long as each of us hasn’t made a clean breast of it-why they’ve damned him or her-we know nothing. Nothing that counts. You, young lady, you shall begin. Why? Tell us why. If you are frank, if we bring our specters into the open, it may save us from disaster. So-out with it! Why?
ESTELLE: I tell you I haven’t a notion. They wouldn’t tell me why.
GARCIN: That’s so. They wouldn’t tell me, either. But I’ve a pretty good idea… Perhaps you’re shy of speaking first? RIght. I’ll lead off. I’m not a very estimable person.
INEZ: No need to tell us that. We know you were a deserter.
GARCIN: Let that be. It’s only a side-issue. I’m here because I treated my wife abominably. That’s all. For five years. Naturally, she’s suffering still. There she is: the moment I mention her, I see her. It’s Gomez who interests me, and it’s she I see. Where’s Gomez got to? For five years. There! They’ve given her back my things; she’s sitting by the window, with my coat on her knees. The coat with the twelve bullet-holes. The blood’s like rust; a brown ring round each hole. It’s quite a museum-piece, that coat; scarred with history. And I used to wear it, fancy!… Now, can’t you shed a tear, my love! Surely you’ll squeeze one out-at last? No? You can’t manage it?… Night after night I came home blind drunk, stinking of wine and women. She’d sat up for me, of course. But she never cried, never uttered a word of reproach. Only her eyes spoke. Big, tragic eyes. I don’t regret anything. I must pay the price, but I shan’t whine… It’s snowing in the street. Won’t you cry, confound you? That woman was a born martyr, you know; a victim by vocation.
INEZ: Why did you hurt her like that?
GARCIN: It was so easy. A wored was enough to make her flinch. Like a sensitive-plant. But never, never a reproach. I’m fond of teasing. I watched and waited. But no, not a tear, not a protest. I’d picked her up out of the gutter, you understand…Now she’s stroking the coat. Her eyes are shut and she’s feeling with her fingeres for the bullet-holes. What are you after? What do you expect? I tell you I regret nothing. The truth is, she admired me too much. Does that mean anything to you?
INEZ: No. Nobody admired me.
GARCIN: So much the better. So much the better for you. I suppose all this trikes you as very vague. Well, here’s something hou can get your teeth into. I brought a half-caste girl to stay in our house. My wife slept upstairs; she must have heard-everything. She was an early riser and, as I and the girl stayed in bed late, she served us our morning coffee.
INEZ: You brute!
GARCIN: Yes, a brute, if you like. But a well-beloved brute. (Far-away look comes to his eyes.) No, it’s nothing. Only Gomez, and he’s not talking about me… What were you saying? Yes, a brute. Certainly. Else why should I be here? Your turn.
INEZ: Well, I was what some people down there called ” a damned bitch.” Damned already. So it’s no surprise, being here.
GARCIN: Is that all you have to say?
INEZ: No. There was that affair with Florence. A dead men’s tale. With three corpses to it. He to start with; the she and I. So there’s no oneleft. I’ve nothing to worry about; it was a aclean sweep. Only that room. I see it now and then. Empty, with the doors locked… No, they’ve just unlocked them. “To Let.” It’s to let; there’s a notice on the door. that’s – too ridiculous.
GARCIN: Three. Three deaths, you said?
INEZ: Three.
GARCIN: One man and two women?
INEZ: Yes.
GARCIN: Well, well. Did he kill himself?
INEZ: He? No, he hadn’t the guts for that. Still, he’d every reason; we led him a dog’s life. As a matter of fact, he was run over by a tram. A silly sort of end… I was living with them; he was my cousin.
GARCIN: Was Florence fair?
INEZ: Fair? You know, I don’t regret a thing; still, I’m not so very keen on telling you the story.
GARCIN: That’s all right… So you got sick of him?
INEZ: Quite gradually. All sorts of little things got on my nerves. For instance, he made a noise when he was drinking-a sort of gurgle. Trifles like that. He was rather pathetic really. Vulnerable. Why are you smiling?
GARCIN: Because I, anyhow, am not vulnerable.
INEZ: Don’t be too sure… I crept inside her skin, she saw the world through my eyes. When she left him, I had her on my hands. We shared a bed-sitting-room at the other end of the town.
GARCIN: And then?
INEZ: Then that tram did its job. I used to remind her every day: “Yes, my pet, we killed him between us.” I’m rather cruel, really.
GARCIN: So am I.
INEZ: No, you’re not cruel. It’s something else.
GARCIN: What?
INEZ: I’ll tell you later. When I say I’m cruel, I mean I can’t get on without making people suffer. Like a live coal. A livek coal in others’ hearts.
When I’m alone I flicker out. For six months I flamed away in her heart, till there was nothing but a cinder. One night she got up and turned on the gas while I was asleep. Then she crept back into bed. So now you know.
GARCIN: Well! Well!
INEZ: Yes? What’s in your mind?
GARCIN: Nothing. Only that it’s not a pretty story
INEZ: Obviously. But what matter?
GARCIN: As you say, what matter? Your turn. What have you done.
ESTELLE: As I told you, I haven’t a notion. I rack my brain, but it’s no use.
GARCIN: Right. Then we’ll give you a hand. That fellow with the smashed face, who was he?
ESTELLE: Who-who do you mean?
INEZ: You know quite well. The man you were so scared of seeing when you came in.
ESTELLE: Oh, him! A friend of mine.
GARCIN: Why were you afraid of him?
ESTELLE: That’s my business, Mr. Garcin.
INEZ: Did he shoot himself on your account?
ESTELLE: Of course not. How absurd you are!
GARCIN: Then why should you have been so scared? He blew his brains out, didn’t he? That’s how his face got smashed.
ESTELLE: Don’t! Please don’t go on.
GARCIN: Because of you. Because of you.
INEZ: He shot himself because of you.
ESTELLE: Leave me alone! It’s – it’s not fair, bullying me like that. I want to go! I want to go!
GARCIN: Go if you can. Personally, I ask for nothing better. Unfortunately the door’s locked.
ESTELLE: You’re hateful, both of you.
INEZ: Hateful? Yes, that’s the word. Now get on with it. That fellow who killed himself on your account-you were his mistress, eh?
GARCIN: Of course she was. And he w
anted to have her to himself alone. That’s so, isn’t it?
INEZ: He danced the tango like a professional, but he was poor as a church mouse-that’s right, isn’t it?
GARCIN: Was he poor or not? Give a straight answer.
ESTELLE: Yes, he was poor.
GARCIN: And then you had your reputation to keep up. One day he came and implored you to run away with him, and you laughed in his face.
INEZ: That’s it. You laughed at him. And so he killed himself.
ESTELLE: DId you use to look at Florence in that way?
INEZ: Yes.
ESTELLE: You’ve got it all wrong, you two. He wanted me to have a baby. So there!
GARCIN: And you didn’t want one?
ESTELLE: I certainly didn’t. But the baby came, worse luck. I went to Switzerland for five months. No one knew anything. It was a girl. Roger was with me when she was born. It pleased him no end, having a daughter. It didn’t please me!
GARCIN: And then?
ESTELLE: There was a balcony overlooking the lake. I brought a big stone. He could see what I was up to and he kept on shouting: “Estelle, for
God’s sake, don’t!” I hated him then. He saw it all. He was leaning over the balcony and he saw the rings spreading on the water-GARCIN: Yes? And then?
ESTELLE: That’s all. I came back to Paris-and he did as he wished.
GARCIN: You mean he blew his brains out?
ESTELLE: It was absurd of him, really, my husband never suspected anything. Oh, how I loathe you!
GARCIN: Nothing doing. Tears don’t flow in this place.
ESTELLE: I’m a coward. A coward! If you knew how I hate you!
INEZ: Poor child! So the hearing’s over. But there’s no need to look like a hanging judge.
GARCIN: A hanging judge? I’d give a lot to be able to see myself in a glass. How hot it is! (Takes off coat.) Oh, sorry! (Puts it on again.
ESTELLE: Don’t bother. You can stay in your shirt-sleeves. As things are—
GARCIN: Just so. You mustn’t be angry with me, Estelle.
ESTELLE: I’m not angry with you.
INEZ: And what about me? Are you angry with me?
ESTELLE: Yes.
INEZ: Well, Mr. Garcin, now you have us in the nude all right. Do your understand things any better for that?
GARCIN: I wonder. Yes, perhaps a trifle better. And now I suppose we start trying to help each other.
INEZ: I don’t need help.
GARCIN: Inez, they’ve laid their snare damned cunningly-like a cobweb. If you make any movement, if you raise your hand to fan yourself,
Estelle and I feel a little tug. Alone, none of us can save himself or herslf; we’re linked together inextricably. So you can take your choice. Hullo?
What’s happening?
INEZ: They’ve let it. The windows are wide open, a man is sitting on my bed. MY bed, if you please! They’ve let it, let it! Step in, step in, make yourself at home, you brute! Ah, there’s a woman, too. She’s going up to him, putting her hands on his shoulders…Damn it, why don’t they turn the lights on? It’s getting dark. Now he’s going to kiss her. But that’s my room, MY room! Pitch-dark now. I can’t see anything, but I hear them whispering, whispering. Is he going to make love to her on MY bed?What’s that she said? That it’s noon and the sun is shining? I must be going blind. Blacked out. I can’t see or hear a thing. So I’m done with the earth, it seems. No more alibis for m! I feel so empty, desiccated-really dead at last. All of me’s here, in this room. What were you saying? Something about helping me, wasn’t it?
GARCIN: Yes.
INEZ: Helping me to do what?
GARCIN: To defeat their devilish tricks.
INEZ: And what do you expect me to do in return?
GARCIN: To help ME. It only needs a little effort, Inez; just a spark of human feeling.
INEZ: Human feeling. That’s beyond my range. I’m rotten to the core.
GARCIN: And how about me? All the same, suppose we try?
INEZ: It’s no use. I’m all dried up. I can’t give and I can’t receive. How could I help you? A dead twig, ready for the burning. FLorence was fair, a natural blonde.
GARCIN: Do your realize that this young woman’s fated to be your torturer?
INEZ: Perhaps I’ve guessed it.
GARCIN: It’s through her they’ll get you. I, of course, I’m different-aloof. I take no notice of her. Suppose you had a try-INEZ:Yes?
GARCIN: It’s a trap. They’re watching you, to see if you’ll fall into it.
INEZ: I know. And you’re another trap. Do you think they haven’t foreknown every word you say? And of course there’s a whole nest of pitfalls that we can’t see. Everything here’s a booby-trap. But what do I care? I’m a pitfall, too. For her, obviously. And perhaps I’ll catch her.
GARCIN: You won’t catch anything. We’re chasing after each other, round and round in a vicious circle, like the horses on a roundabout. That’s part of their plan, of course… Drop it, Inez. Open your hands and let go of everything. Or else you’ll bring disaster on all three of us.
INEZ: Do I look the sort of person who lets go? I know what’s coming to me. I’m going to burn, and it’s to last forever. Yes, I KNOW everything.
But do you think I’ll let go? I’ll catch her, she’ll see you through my eyes, as Florence saw that other man. What’s the good of trying to enlist my sympathy? I assure you I know everything, and I can’t feel sorry even for myself. A trap! Don’t I know it, and that I’m in a trap myself, up to the neck, and there’s nothing to be done about it? ANd if it suits their book, so much the better!
GARCIN: Well, I, anyhow, can feel sorry for you, too. Look at me, we’re naked, naked right through, and I can see into your heart. That’s one link between us. Do you think I’d want to hurt you? I don’t regret anything, I’m dried up, too. But for you I can still feel pity.
INEZ: Don’t. I hate being pawed about. And keep your pity for yourself. Don’t forget, Garcin, that there are traps for you, too, in this room. ALl nicely set for you. You’d do better to watch your own interests. But, if you will elave us in peace, this child and me, I’ll see I don’t do you any harm.
GARCIN: Very well.
ESTELLE: Please, Garcin.
GARCIN: What do you want of me?
ESTELLE: You can help ME, anyhow.
GARCIN: If you want help, apply to her.
ESTELLE: I implore you, Garcin-you gave me your promise, didn’t you? Help me quick. I don’t want to be left alone. Olga’s taken him to a cabaret.
INEZ: Taken whom?
ESTELLE: Peter…Oh, now they’re dancing together.
INEZ: Who’s Peter?
ESTELLE: Such a silly boy. He called me his glancing stream-just fancy! He was terribly in love with me… She’s persuaded him to come out with her tonight.
INEZ: Do you love him?
ESTELLE: They’re sitting down now. She’s puffing like a grampus. What a fool the girl is to insist on dancing! But I dare say she does it to reduce…No, of course I don’t love him. He’s only eighteen, and I’m not a baby-snatcher.
INEZ: Then why bother about them? What difference does it make?
ESTELLE: He belonged to me.
INEZ: Nothing on earth belongs to you any more.
ESTELLE: I tell you he was mine. All mine.
INEZ: Yes, he was yours-once. But now—try to make him hear, try to touch him. Olga can touch him, talk to him as much as she likes. That’s so, isn’t it? She can squeeze his hands, rub herself against him-ESTELLE: Yes, look! She’s pressing her great fat chest against him, puffing and blowing his his face. But, my poor little lamb, can’t you see how ridiculous she is? Why don’t you laugh at her? Oh, once I’d have only had to glance at them and she’d have slunk away. Is there really nothing, nothing left of me?
INEZ: Nothing whatever. Nothing of you’s left on earth-not even a shadow. All you own is here. Would you like that paper-knife? Or that ornament on the mantelpiece? That blue sofa
’s yours. And I, my dear, am yours forever.
ESTELLE: You mine! That’s good! Well, which of you two would dare to call me his glancing stream, his crystal girl? You know too much about me, you know I’m rotten through and through… Peter, dear, think of me, fix your thoughts on me, and save me. All the time you’re thinking “my glancing stream, his crystal girl,” I’m only half here. I’m only half wicked, and half of me is down there with you, clean and bright and crystal-clear as running water…Oh, just look at her face, all scarlet, like a tomato. No, it’s absurd, we’ve laughed at her together, you and I, often and often…
What’s that tune? – I always loved it. Yes, the “St. Louis Blues”…All right, dance away, dance away. Garcin, I wish you could see her, you’d die of laughing.Only-she’ll never know I SEE her. Yes, I see you, Olga, with your hair all anyhow, and you do look like a dope, my dear. Oh, now you’re treading on his toes. It’s a scream! Hurry up! Quicker! Quicker! He’s dragging her along, bundling her round and round-it’s too ghastly! He always said I was so light, he loved to dance with me. I tell you, Olga, I can see you. No, she doesn’t care, she’s dancing through my gaze. What’s that? What’s that you said? “Our poor dear Estelle”? Oh, don’t be such a humbug! You didn’t even shed a tear at the funeral…And she has the nerve to talk to him about her poor dear friend Estelle! How dare she discuss me with Peter? Now then, keep time. She never could dance and talk at once.
No Exit Page 3
