Authors: Harold Pinter

Harold Pinter Plays 2 (13 page)

MARK:
It’s smarter without turn-ups.

LEN:
Of course it’s smarter without turn-ups.

MARK:
I didn’t want it double-breasted.

LEN:
Double-breasted? Of course you couldn’t have it double-breasted.

MARK:
What do you think of the cloth?

LEN:
The cloth? [
He
examines
it
,
gasps
and
whistles
through
his
teeth.
At
a
great
pace.
]
What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth.

What a piece of
cloth.

MARK:
You like the cloth?

LEN:
W
HAT
A PIECE OF CLOTH!

MARK:
What do you think of the cut?

LEN:
What do I think of the cut? The cut? The cut? What a cut!

What a cut! I’ve never seen such a cut! [
Pause.
]
[
He
sits
and
groans.
]

MARK
[
combing
his
hair
and
sitting
]:
Do you know where I’ve just been?

LEN:
Where?

MARK:
Earls Court.

LEN:
Uuuuhh! What were you doing there? That’s beside the point.

MARK:
What’s the matter with Earl’s Court?

LEN:
It’s a mortuary without a corpse. [
Pause.
]
There’s a time and place for everything …

MARK:
You’re right there.

LEN:
What do you mean by that?

MARK:
There’s a time and place for everything.

LEN:
You’re right there. [
Puts
glasses
on,
rises
to
Mark.
]
Who have you been with? Actors and actresses? What’s it like when you act? Docs it please you? Does it please anyone else?

MARK:
What’s wrong with acting?

LEN:
It’s a time-honoured profession—it’s time-honoured. [
Pause.
]
But what does it do? Does it please you when you walk onto a stage and everybody looks up and watches you? Maybe they don’t want to watch you at all. Maybe they’d prefer to watch someone else. Have you ever asked them? [
MARK
chuckles.
]
You should follow my example and take up mathematics. [
Shouting
him
open
book.
]
Look! All last night I was working at mechanics and determinants. There’s nothing like a bit of calculus to cheer you up.

Pause.

MARK:
I’ll think about it.

LEN:
Have you got a telephone here?

MARK:
It’s your house.

LEN:
Yes. What are you doing here? What do you want here?

MARK:
I thought you might give me some bread and honey.

LEN:
I don’t want you to become too curious in this room. There’s no place for curiosities here. Keep a sense of proportion. That’s all I ask.

MARK:
That’s all.

LEN:
I’ve got enough on my plate with this room as it is.

MARK:
What’s the matter with it?

LEN:
The rooms we live in … open and shut. [
Pause.
]
Can’t you see? They change shape at their own will. I wouldn’t grumble if only they would keep to some consistency. But they don’t. And I can’t tell the limits, the boundaries, which I’ve been led to believe are natural. I’m all for the natural behaviour of rooms, doors, staircases, the lot. But I can’t rely on them. When, for example, I look through a train window, at night, and see the yellow lights, very clearly, I can see what they are, and I see that they’re still. But they’re only still because I’m moving. I know that they do move along with me, and when we go round a bend, they bump off. But I know that they are still, just the same. They are, after all, stuck on poles which are rooted to the earth. So they must be still, in their own right, insofar as the earth itself is still, which of course it isn’t. The point is, in a nutshell, that I can only appreciate such facts when I’m moving. When I’m still, nothing around me follows a natural course of conduct. I’m not saying I’m any criterion, I wouldn’t say that. After all, when I’m on the train I’m not really moving at all. That’s obvious. I’m in the corner seat. I’m still. I am perhaps being moved, but I do not move. Neither do the yellow lights. The train moves, granted, but what’s a train got to do with it?

MARK:
Nothing.

LEN:
You’re frightened.

MARK:
Am I?

LEN:
You’re frightened that any moment I’m liable to put a red hot burning coal in your mouth.

MARK:
Am I?

LEN:
But when the time comes, you see, what I shall do is place the red hot burning coal in my own mouth.

Swift
blackout.
PETE
sits
where
MARK
has
been.
Lights
snap
up.

I’ve got some beigels.

PETE:
This is a very solid table, isn’t it?

LEN:
I said I’ve got some biegels.

PETE:
No thanks. How long have you had this table?

LEN:
It’s a family heirloom.

PETE:
Yes, I’d like a good table, and a good chair. Solid stuff.

Made for the bearer. I’d put them in a boat. Sail it down the river. A houseboat. You could sit in the cabin and look out at the water.

LEN:
Who’d be steering?

PETE:
You could park it. Park it. There’s not a soul in sight.

LEN
brings
half-f
bottle
of
wine
and
glass
to
table.
Reads
label.
Sniffs
at
bottle.
Pours
some
into
glass,
savours
then
gargles,
walking
about.
Spits
wine
back
into
glass,
returns
bottle
and
glass
at
sideboard,
after
a
defensive
glance
at
PETE
.
Returns
to
above
table.

LEN
[
muttering
]:
Impossible, impossible, impossible.

PETE
[
briskly
]:
I’ve been thinking about you.

LEN:
Oh?

PETE:
Do you know what your trouble is? You’re not elastic.

There’s no elasticity in you. You want to be more elastic.

LEN:
Elastic? Elastic. Yes, you’re quite right. Elastic. What are you talking about?

PETE:
Giving up the ghost isn’t so much a failure as a tactical error. By elastic I mean being prepared for your own
deviations. You don’t know where you’re going to come out next at the moment. You’re like a rotten old shirt. Buck your ideas up. They’ll lock you up before you’re much older.

LEN:
No. There is a different sky each time I look. The clouds run about in my eye. I can’t do it.

PETE:
The apprehension of experience must obviously be dependent upon discrimination if it’s to be considered valuable. That’s what you lack. You’ve got no idea how to preserve a distance between what you smell and what you think about it. You haven’t got the faculty for making a simple distinction between one thing and another. Every time you walk out of this door you go straight over a cliff. What you’ve got to do is nourish the power of assessment. How can you hope to assess and verify anything if you walk about with your nose stuck between your feet all day long? You knock around with Mark too much. He can’t do you any good. I know how to handle him. But I don’t think he’s your sort. Between you and me, I sometimes think he’s a man of weeds. Sometimes I think he’s just playing a game. But what game? I like him all right when you come down to it. We’re old pals. But you look at him and what do you see? An attitude. Has it substance or is it barren? Sometimes I think it’s as barren as a bombed site. He’ll be a spent force in no time if he doesn’t watch his step. [
Pause.
]
I’ll tell you a dream I had last night. I was with a girl in a tube station, on the platform. People were rushing about. There was some sort of panic. When I looked round I saw everyone’s faces were peeling, blotched, blistered. People were screaming, booming down the tunnels. There was a fire bell clanging. When I looked at the girl I saw that her face was coming off in slabs too, like plaster. Black scabs and stains. The skin was dropping off like lumps of cat’s meat. I could hear it sizzling on the electric rails. I pulled her by the arm to get her out of there.
She wouldn’t budge. Stood there, with half a face, staring at me. I screamed at her to come away. Then I thought, Christ, what’s my face like? Is that why she’s staring? Is that rotting too?

Lights
change.
LEN’
S
room.
PETE
and
MARK
looking
at
chess
board.
LEN
watching
them.
Silence.

LEN:
Eh …

[
They
don’t
look
up.
]

The dwarfs are back on the job. [
Pause.
]
I said the dwarfs are back on the job.

MARK:
The what?

LEN:
The dwarfs.

MARK:
Oh yes?

LEN:
Oh yes. They’ve been waiting for a smoke signal you see. I’ve just sent up the smoke signal.

[
Pause.
]

MARK:
You’ve just sent it up, have you?

LEN:
Yes. I’ve called them in on the job. They’ve taken up their positions. Haven’t you noticed?

PETE:
I haven’t noticed. [
To
MARK
.] Have you noticed?

MARK
chuckles.

LEN:
But I’ll tell you one thing. They don’t stop work until the job in hand is finished, one way or another. They never run out on a job. Oh no. They’re true professionals. Real professionals.

PETE:
Listen. Can’t you see we’re trying to play chess?

Pause.

LEN:
I’ve called them in to keep an eye on you two, you see. They’re going to keep a very close eye on you. So am I. We’re waiting for you to show your hand. We’re all going to keep a very close eye on you two. Me and the dwarfs.

Pause.

MARK:
[
referring
to
chess
]:
I think I’ve got you knackered, Pete.

PETE
looks
at
him.

PETE:
Do you?

Lights
change
and
come
up
full
in
MARK’S
roam.
LEN
enters
with
old
gilt
mirror.
MARK
follows.

MARK:
Put that mirror back.

LEN:
This is the best piece of furniture you’ve got in the house. It’s Spanish. No Portuguese. You’re Portuguese, aren’t you?

MARK:
Put it back.

LEN:
Look at your face in this mirror. Look. It’s a farce. Where are your features? You haven’t got any features. You couldn’t call those features. What are you going to do about it, eh? What’s the answer?

MARK:
Mind that mirror. It’s not insured.

LEN:
I saw Pete the other day. In the evening. You didn’t know that. I wonder about you. I often wonder about you. But I must keep pedalling. I must. There’s a time limit. Who have you got hiding here? You’re not alone here. What about your Esperanto? Don’t forget, anything over two ounces goes up a penny.

MARK:
Thanks for the tip.

LEN:
Here’s your mirror.

MARK
exits
with
mirror.
LEN
picks
out
apple
from
a
fruit
bowl,
sits
in
armchair
staring
at
it.
MARK
returns.