Tennessee Williams - A Streetcar Named Desire

STELLA:

This is making me--sick!

STANLEY:

The boy's dad learned about it and got in touch with the high school superintendent. Boy, oh, boy, I'd like to have been in that office when Dame Blanche was called on the carpet! I'd like to have seen her trying to squirm out of that one! But they had her on the hook good and proper that time and she knew that the jig was all up! They told her she better move on to some fresh territory. Yep, it was practickly a town ordinance passed against her!

[The bathroom door is opened and Blanche thrusts her head out, holding a towel about her hair.]

BLANCHE:

Stella!

Stella [faintly]:

Yes, Blanche?

BLANCHE:

Give me another bath-towel to dry my hair with. I've just washed it.

STELLA:

Yes, Blanche.

[She crosses in a dazed way from the kitchen to the bathroom door with a towel.]

BLANCHE:

What's the matter, honey?

STELLA:

Matter? Why?

BLANCHE:

You have such a strange expression on your face!

STELLA:

Oh--[She tries to laugh] I guess I'm a little tired!

BLANCHE:

Why dont you bathe, too, soon as I get out?

STANLEY [calling from the kitchen]:

How soon is that going to be?

BLANCHE:

Not so terribly long! Possess your soul in patience!

STANLEY:

It's not my soul, it's my kidneys I'm worried about!

[Blanche slams the door. Stanley laughs harshly. Stella comes slowly back into the kitchen.]

STANLEY:

Well, what do you think of it?

STELLA:

I dont believe all of those stories and I think your supply-man was mean and rotten to tell them. It's possible that some of the things he said are partly true. There are things about my sister I don't approve of--things that caused sorrow at home. She was always--flighty!

STANLEY:

Flighty!

STELLA; But when she was young, very young, she married a boy who wrote poetry.... He was extremely good-looking. I think Blanche didn't just love him but worshipped the ground he walked on! Adored him and thought him almost too fine to be human! But then she found out--

STANLEY:

What?

STELLA:

This beautiful and talented young man was a degenerate. Didn't your supply-man give you that information?

STANLEY:

All we discussed was recent history. That must have been a pretty long time ago.

STELLA:

Yes, it was--a pretty long time ago....

[Stanley comes up and takes her by the shoulders rather gently. She gently withdraws from him. Automatically she starts sticking little pink candles in the birthday cake.]

STANLEY:

How many candles you putting in that cake?

STELLA:

I'll stop at twenty-five.

STANLEY:

Is company expected?

STELLA:

We asked Mitch to come over for cake and ice cream.

[Stanley looks a little uncomfortable. He lights a cigarette from the one he has just finished.]

STANLEY:

I wouldn't be expecting Mitch over tonight.

[Stella pauses in her occupation with candles and looks slowly around at Stanley.]

STELLA:

Why?

STANLEY:

Mitch is a buddy of mine. We were in the same outfit together--Two-forty-first Engineers. We work in the same plant and now on the same bowling team. You think I could face him if--

STELLA:

Stanley Kowalski, did you--did you repeat what that--?

STANLEY:

You're goddam right I told him! I'd have that on my conscience the rest of my life if I knew all that stuff and let my best friend get caught!

STELLA:

Is Mitch through with her?

STANLEY:

Wouldn't you be if--?

STELLA:

I said, Is Mitch through with her?

[Blanche's voice is lifted again, serenely as a bell. She sings "But it wouldn't be make-believe if you believed in me."]

STANLEY:

No, I don't think he's necessarily through with her--just wised up!

STELLA:

Stanley, she thought Mitch was--going to--going to marry her. I was hoping so, too.

STANLEY:

Well, he's not going to marry her. Maybe he was, but he's not going to jump in a tank with a school of sharks--now!

[He rises]

Blanche! Oh, Blanche! Can I please get in my bathroom?

[There is a pause.]

BLANCHE:

Yes, indeed, sir! Can you wait one second while I dry?

STANLEY:

Having waited one hour I guess one second ought to pass in a hurry.

STELLA:

And she hasn't got her job? Well, what will she do!

STANLEY:

She's not stayin' here after Tuesday. You know that, don't you? Just to make sure I bought her ticket myself. A bus ticket!

STELLA:

In the first place, Blanche wouldn't go on a bus.

STANLEY:

She'll go on a bus and like it.

STELLA:

No, she won't, no, she won't, Stanley!

STANLEY:

She'll go! Period. P.S. She'll go Tuesday!

STELLA [slowly]:

What'll--she--do? What on earth will she--do!

STANLEY:

Her future is mapped out for her.

STELLA:

What do you mean?

[Blanche sings.]

STANLEY:

Hey, canary bird! Toots! Get OUT of the BATHROOM!

[The bathroom door flies open and Blanche emerges with a gay peal of laughter, but as Stanley crosses past her, a frightened look appears on her face, almost a look of panic. He doesn't look at her but slams the bathroom door shut as he goes in.]

BLANCHE [snatching up a hairbrush]:

Oh, I feel so good after my long, hot bath, I feel so good and cool and--rested!

STELLA [sadly and doubtfully from the kitchen]:

Do you, Blanche?

BLANCHE [brushing her hair vigorously]:

Yes, I do, so refreshed!

[She tinkles her highball glass.]

A hot bath and a long, cold drink always give me a brand new outlook on life!

[She looks through the portieres at Stella, standing between them, and slowly stops brushing]

Something has happened!--What is it?

STELLA [fuming away quickly]:

Why, nothing has happened, Blanche.

BLANCHE:

You're lying! Something has!

[She stares fearfully at Stella, who pretends to be busy at the table. The distant piano goes into a hectic breakdown.]

Three-quarters of an hour later. The view through the big windows is fading gradually into a still-golden dusk. A torch of sunlight blazes on the side of a big water-tank or oil-drum across the empty lot toward the business district which is now pierced by pinpoints of lighted windows or windows reflecting the sunset. The three people are completing a dismal birthday supper. Stanley looks sullen. Stella is embarrassed and sad. Blanche has a tight, artificial smile on her drawn face. There is a fourth place at the table which is left vacant.

BLANCHE [suddenly]:

Stanley, tell us a joke, tell us a funny story to make us all laugh. I don't know what's the matter, we're all so solemn. Is it because I've been stood up by my beau?

[Stella laughs feebly.]

It's the first time in my entire experience with men, and I've had a good deal of all sorts, that I've actually been stood up by anybody! Ha-ha! I don't know how to take it.... Tell us a funny little story, Stanley! Something to help us out.

STANLEY:

I didn't think you liked my stories, Blanche.

BLANCHE:

I like them when they're amusing but not indecent.

STANLEY:

I don't know any refined enough for your taste.

BLANCHE:

Then let me tell one.

STELLA:

Yes, you tell one, Blanche. You used to know lots of good stories.

[The music fades.]

BLANCHE:

Let me see, now... I must run through my repertoire! Oh. yes--I love parrot stories! Do you all like parrot stories? Well, this one's about the old maid and the parrot. This old maid, she had a parrot that cursed a blue streak and knew more vulgar expressions than Mr. Kowalski!

STANLEY: