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HUSBAND. Maybe later? Not now and not here?
GIRL. Are you afraid?
HUSBAND. Aren’t you?
GIRL. To tell the truth, I am. But you have to take the chance sometime. You have to prove sometime that you have the right to do what you want.
HUSBAND. Maybe tomorrow?
GIRL. And tomorrow you won’t be afraid?
HUSBAND. I’ll never stop being afraid. I’m afraid all the time. I’m afraid to make a mistake. To say sometime wrong. Take the wrong bus. Shake the wrong hand. Take the wrong side. Bet on the wrong horse. Everybody is climbing, climbing, climbing, and I’m afraid I can’t keep up. I don’t have the elbows, claws and teeth to make my way through the jungle. I’m afraid of tomorrow. I’m afraid of next Friday. I wait in fear of next month. I’m afraid I’ll lose my job. I’m afraid I’ll get sick. I’m afraid of women. I’m afraid of old age. I’m afraid to die. And even more afraid to live.
GIRL. Calm down.
HUSBAND. And this damn money. Money, money, money! It’s all anyone thinks, talks and cares about. Wives don’t want love from their husbands, just money. That alone is enough to drive you crazy.
GIRL. Aren’t you afraid to always be afraid?
HUSBAND. Of course I am. Don’t you see what’s going on all around? Every day is the same, without purpose and without hope. Nothing changes, and if it does change, then it’s only for the worse. We are caught in a net and flop around like fish; we open our mouths to scream, but nothing comes out; nobody hears. We keep running just to stay in place – round and round in the same wheel, in the same cage, today just like yesterday, tomorrow just like today, the day after tomorrow just like always. We struggle to make our way up, up, up. Up the down escalator. All the time we have no time. We want to have time to do everything we want to do, to make all the money we want to have. We reach out, clutch hold and scramble up. We’re almost there, so close, just one more step, just a little more effort – grab it, take it! But there is nothing to grab because you can’t hold on to happiness. That’s how we spend our lives; you can never get those years back. And what is it all for, what for? You want to run away from this life, run as fast as you can. But you just don’t have the strength to do it. You start to get out of breath; you stop, look back and think. You get scared, and then you start running again. So let's run away. There’s no time left!
GIRL. You think too much. You shouldn’t think. There is no tomorrow. There is only today. Don’t think, OK?
HUSBAND. You think that we shouldn’t think?
GIRL. I think we should run away, that’s all.
HUSBAND. Where to?
GIRL. The important thing is not where to, but where from. Away from the place that we hate, away from here. Here where nothing is possible, where everything is forbidden, everything has to be by the rules and according to schedule. We’ll escape to a better world, where everyone is free, where nothing is forbidden, where there’s not a ceiling overhead, but a big high blue sky with big white clouds floating by. Where people laugh; where they’re happy, and sing and dance; they’re cheerful and never sick, and nobody tells them how to live or what they have to do.
HUSBAND. Is there really such a world?
GIRL. Yes, it exists! It’s a world where no one is afraid, where everybody goes to bed whenever they want to, with whomever they want to; where there is plenty of sun and plenty of sex. Where no one is boss and everyone is happy.
HUSBAND. And where will we live without money?
GIRL. Wherever we want! We’ll live on a bench. In the bushes. On a soft green meadow. In a boat. Yes, in a boat! We’ll lie in it, embracing, and it will rock gently and carry us away, always to somewhere new. A brass band will meet us on every pier, and the music will ring out, and they’ll shower us with flowers, and we’ll drift and drift and have sex, and we’ll go so far that nobody will ever find us.
HUSBAND.… Nobody will ever find us.… OK, let’s do it!.
GIRL. When?
HUSBAND. Right now.
GIRL. Perfect. Wait here for me. I’ll go get a glass of water, take a tranquilizer, and then we’ll be ready to go.
HUSBAND. Just come right back, otherwise I’ll start thinking again.
GIRL. And what then?
HUSBAND. I’ll start having second thoughts and change my mind.
GIRL. I forbid you to think. You understand? Follow my example.
HUSBAND. I’ll try.
GIRL. Sit here, don’t move, don’t do anything and don’t think. I’ll be right back, and we’ll begin a new life!
The GIRL goes out. The HUSBAND waits for her impatiently. There can be an intermission here. The HUSBAND can stay on the stage, waiting for the GIRL.
PART TWO
The action between the first and second acts can proceed without an intermission.
GIRL. Perfect. Wait here for me. I’ll go get a glass of water, take a tranquilizer, and then we’ll be ready to go.
HUSBAND. Just come right back, otherwise I’ll start thinking again.
GIRL. And what then?
HUSBAND. I’ll start having second thoughts and change my mind.
GIRL. I forbid you to think. You understand? Follow my example.
HUSBAND. I’ll try.
GIRL. Sit here, don’t move, don’t do anything and don’t think. I’ll be right back, and we’ll begin a new life!
The GIRL exits. The HUSBAND waits for her impatiently. The PROFESSOR enters.
PROFESSOR. Let’s have sex.
HUSBAND. Thanks, my pleasure.
Pause.
PROFESSOR. Well?
HUSBAND. What?
PROFESSOR. I’m waiting to see what will follow your "thanks".
HUSBAND. I thought it was a greeting.
PROFESSOR. No, it was a business offer. So?
HUSBAND. I’m willing.
PROFESSOR. Then we’ll get started.
HUSBAND. (Looking around). I don’t see any women here.
PROFESSOR. We can manage perfectly well without them.
HUSBAND. Without women?!
PROFESSOR. Certainly. There’s you, there’s me, so there is a couple. What else do we need?
HUSBAND. I beg your pardon, but who are you?
PROFESSOR. I am a world-famous professor of psychiatry, psychology and sociology. A sexologist and sex pathologist. Treatment, consulting, lecturing. I get rid of complexes, inspire self-confidence, free people of their inhibitions. I cure frigidity and impotence. I satisfy the unsatisfied. It’s very hard work. Lots of calls. I get very tired.
HUSBAND. I’m not sure I understand exactly what you are offering concretely.
PROFESSOR. To have sex. What could be more concretely?
HUSBAND. Professor, with all due respect to you, to your wisdom, knowledge and age, to your gray hair and infinite understanding, you are no substitute for a woman to me.
PROFESSOR. Tell me, are you an intelligent person?
HUSBAND. I hope so.
PROFESSOR. Very well. Tell me, what is the most important thing in a partner for you – the body or the soul?
HUSBAND. The soul, certainly.
PROFESSOR. Then what difference does it make what body this soul has, male or female?
HUSBAND. For me – a very big difference.
PROFESSOR. Imagine a kindred soul so fine, sublime, gifted, intellectual, sympathetic …
HUSBAND. I have been searching for such a soul for a very long time. But this soul should inhabit a nice body, not too skinny and not too plump. And it is also important to me that this soul would have a normal woman’s breasts, slender legs and blue eyes.
PROFESSOR. In other words, you’re against homosexual love?
HUSBAND. Absolutely. But I can understand lesbians. Who wouldn’t be attracted to a blushing, soft, gentle, fresh, supple, appetizing, young female body. But any attraction to a man is unnatural.
PROFESSOR. But, you see, some women find men to be rather attractive.
HUSBAND. A perversion. Women will always have their follies.
PROFESSOR. Well, I’ll find you a woman. By the way, I have just been talking to two ladies.
HUSBAND. So have I.
PROFESSOR. I have every reason to believe that they will not object.
HUSBAND. They’re willing.
PROFESSOR. Which do you prefer – a plump blonde or a slim brunette?
HUSBAND. That’s a hard choice. What did you say, “a slim blonde or a plump brunette”?
PROFESSOR. No, the other way around – a plump blonde or a slim brunette.
HUSBAND. I would prefer a compromise.
PROFESSOR. Namely?
HUSBAND. A slender redhead.
PROFESSOR. And I thought you would choose both.
HUSBAND. That’s a good idea. Where are the women?
PROFESSOR. I don’t know. Let’s get back to the subject. What I am offering is not a coarse carnal act, but an educational process. In other words, I give lessons. Treatment, consulting, lecturing.
HUSBAND. What is there to lecture about?
PROFESSOR. How can you even ask that? Sex is a kind of transaction. And, as in any transaction, you must be considerate, discreet, skillful, and most important, persuasive. Are you persuasive in sex?
HUSBAND. I don’t know what to say …
PROFESSOR. Don’t hesitate to admit your weakness. Such shyness is a prejudice. Unfortunately, our society has not yet freed itself of its primitive values. Why isn’t shameful to be a fool, an alcoholic, or a cheat, but it is to be impotent? If you don’t have a leg or an eye, if you are short-sighted, skinny or fat, if you are stupid and rude, it is not shameful. If you can’t support your family, it’s pardonable. But woe to you if you’re incapable of this one thing. You must hide it from everyone… (Sighs.) But, if you think about it, who cares, really, except your girlfriend?
HUSBAND. As for me, I’m OK, I think. But I want to be successful. Earn a lot of money. I work hard, I’m very busy. I think a lot. There’s no time left for sex. And, to tell the truth, no strength either.
PROFESSOR. That’s just your mistake. You’re busy, but not with the right things. Only sex makes us all equal, only sex frees us from feeling inferior to the arrogant highbrow elite. If you’re sure of yourself as a man, you will be sure in everything else.
HUSBAND. You think so?
PROFESSOR. I don’t think so, I know so. Success requires an enormous effort. You have to study for a long time, struggle, strive, push others aside, grit your teeth, pay your dues and kiss ass. The only self-affirmation you get is from sex. It makes you feel strong, important, necessary, and even superior, without studying anything, without knowing anything, without any intelligence or talent. So you can enjoy life. That is the advantage of sex over anything else you can do. If you are successful in sex, you can’t be a loser. And, vice versa, if you’re a failure at sex, nothing goes right. (Bitterly). Believe me, I know.
HUSBAND. There’s some truth to what you’re saying.
PROFESSOR. The naked truth. I’m willing to teach you for twenty years and then you’ll see that… (Suddenly presses his hand to his chest, groans and falls into an armchair.)
HUSBAND. What’s wrong?
PROFESSOR. My heart…
HUSBAND. Do you have your pills?
PROFESSOR. (Breathes heavily.) Usually, a sister comes and gives me a shot.
HUSBAND. Should I call the sister?
