MISS BASS (While entering): Can Helen come with us to the party? (Beat. She turns to Forrest) Mr. Robert Jones is taking Miss Anne Holland to dinner tonight. So you can imagine how Helen is feeling.
FORREST: I don’t know how large the party’s supposed to be.
MISS BASS: I can’t leave her alone. I just got her to stop crying.
FORREST: Fine. (Beat) Of course she can come. Maybe you, Mr. Ryder, would like to join . . .
RYDER: I’m having dinner with Mr. Macready tonight. Otherwise . . . (Short pause) I’ll tell him I passed along his message. I should go. (Goes to the door) By the way, thank you for last night. It was a pleasure to— And I am pleased you like my Macduff. I’m a bit more critical of it than you though. (Beat) I think I should try to, I don’t know. I just think I could be subtler. After all, the play Shakespeare wrote isn’t called Macduff, is it?
(He forces himself to laugh, then leaves. Long pause. Forrest begins to get dressed.)
MISS BASS: I’ve heard that there are quite a few unsold tickets for Mr. Macready’s Macbeth.
FORREST (Without looking up): Is that true? (Laughs to himself)
MISS BASS: Why is that . . .?
(He looks up, shakes his head, suddenly sits and sighs. She looks at him.)
(Trying to be bright) So where’s the party?
FORREST: New York Hotel.
MISS BASS: You’re sure they won’t mind us bringing Helen . . .?
FORREST: I’m sure it’s a big party. That’s what I remember my wife saying at least.
MISS BASS: The bigger the better. For us.
(Pause. Forrest slowly turns to her.)
What? What?
FORREST: My wife doesn’t want you in our house anymore. She has made this clear to me. This morning. (Beat) Do you mind?
MISS BASS: Then—she’s not welcome in mine either. (Beat. Smiles)
FORREST (Sigh of relief): Thank you. You make this much easier. (Smiles, then nearly begins to cry)
MISS BASS: Ned? . . .
FORREST: I don’t know what it is, Jane. (Beat) For no reason my eyes start to well up. (Wipes his tears, breathes deeply, sighs) Life’s not half as much fun as theatre. (Continues to get dressed)
(Blackout.)
SCENE 6
8 P.M.
A private drawing room, New York Hotel.
Macready, Ryder, Mrs. Forrest, Dion Boucicault and his wife, Agnes Robertson, in the middle of conversation.
MACREADY: He said she was fifty if she was anything, and when she finished, she told Johnstone that her parts include not only Desdemona but also Juliet.
(He smiles and shakes his head, sips his drink. The others smile as well.)
Then in Pittsburgh—a town he said one should be lucky enough to avoid—he’s to play Lear with a Goneril who never was sober (for four days, he swears), a Cordelia who not only talked nonsense, as if she had concluded that nonsense was Shakespeare’s intention, and she was only clarifying this point, but who also was a good three to four years older than him, and John Johnstone, well you’ve seen him.
MRS. FORREST: Not for years, has he . . .?
MACREADY (Turning back to Boucicault): He’s— What? How would you describe . . .?
BOUCICAULT: No one would say he was too young for the part. Of Lear.
MACREADY: It happened rather quickly as well.
AGNES: His son died.
MACREADY: Is that it? I didn’t know.
(Short pause.)
BOUCICAULT: So his Cordelia was even older than—
MACREADY: Which he said actually made the relationship rather interesting.
BOUCICAULT: It’s different.
MACREADY: Anyway, he finally just felt that the performance he was giving was just too good for them. They cheered, of course, but he was convinced they didn’t know what in the world they were cheering for.
(Short pause.)
BOUCICAULT: Hmmmm. (Looks at Agnes for a moment, then turns to Ryder) Mr. Ryder, has this been your experience of—?
RYDER: No. (Beat) Actually it hasn’t. I think Americans—
MACREADY (Interrupting): Nor has it been mine, Mr. Boucicault. American people are really rather charming and decent as well as intelligent in an instinctive sort of way. The actors I am working with, they may not know certain things, things you or I or your wife might take for granted, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t quick to learn.
AGNES: Being married to an American, Mrs. Forrest, you must have had experiences.
MRS. FORREST: Oh yes. Very many.
(Pause. They look to her to continue.)
MACREADY (Finally): Not only are they quick to learn, they are eager. They’re more like children than us old jaded English actors. (Laughs lightly, as do others) It’s a fascinating country, it truly is!
AGNES: Whatever it is, it at least sounds somewhat refreshing after the London theatre.
RYDER: Absolutely nothing was happening there when we left.
BOUCICAULT: And it’s got worse, hasn’t it?
(He turns to Agnes, who nods.)
Kean’s made a complete mess of the Princess.
AGNES (To the others): Not a complete—
BOUCICAULT: He has, it’s true. (Beat) I gave him The Corsican Brothers—for nothing—for nearly nothing he has the play of the century. What is clearly my best play; what is going to be my most successful play that will make London Assurance seem like . . . Whatever. (Beat) Crowds fight to get into my play. This play cannot lose money. (Turns to Agnes) He ran it for what—?
AGNES: Not long enough.
BOUCICAULT: I try to tell him. (Shakes his head) What is in it for me? I don’t get a pound more if he plays the play or not. Not there. At the Princess he can play it forever and I don’t get a farthing more. (Beat) It’s going to be done here. (Beat) Last night Hackett agreed to take it.
MACREADY: When did he say—?
BOUCICAULT: Sometime after the new year. He didn’t give me dates. (Beat) But it’s definite. (Beat) We’re going to work out a deal. (Beat. Laughs) We’re here one week and—! I love America.
(Short Pause.)
AGNES (Smiling): Hopefully we’re saying the same thing next week. (Beat) At first we were very happy with Kean.
BOUCICAULT: I never was, Agnes. It was the Princess Theatre that I loved. A beautiful theatre.
MACREADY: This is true.
BOUCICAULT: What does Kean replace my play with? Twelfth Night. He insists on doing this play. (Beat) It’s not a bad play. (Beat) But I tell him just run the goddamn Corsican Brothers until no one comes anymore. Does this sound mad?!
AGNES: Dion—
BOUCICAULT: Let me finish! (Beat) It’s as if they don’t want to make money. (Beat) It is exactly as if they don’t want to make money!
(Pause.)
RYDER: That is very good news about Hackett.
AGNES: He’s going to tell us for sure next week.
(Short pause.)
BOUCICAULT: Have any of you been to Cincinnati?
MRS. FORREST: Cincinnati? (Looks at the others) No I haven’t.
MACREADY: No. (Beat) Why? Is there something . . .?
BOUCICAULT: It’s just that I always have loved that name: Cincinnati.
(Pause. They sip their drinks.)
MACREADY: Five Brits all in one room. In America. That doesn’t happen very often.
MRS. FORREST: Yes it does.
(Pause.)
AGNES: We’ve reserved a small table in the dining room. As soon as Mr. Forrest . . .
MRS. FORREST: I think it might be dangerous to wait for my husband.
(Short pause.)
BOUCICAULT: Perhaps then we should go right to our table. We can bring our drinks.
(They hesitate.)
AGNES: We should leave a message at the front desk.
RYDER: He may have forgotten. Maybe there was something else.
MRS. FORREST: Do you know if Mr. Forrest has gone somewhere else?
RYDER: No. (Beat) I do
n’t know anything.
MRS. FORREST: I’ll leave the note.
BOUCICAULT: We’ll just be—
MRS. FORREST: Yes.
(As the others move off toward the dining room:)
BOUCICAULT: So you’re staying here as well?
MACREADY: It’s near the theatre.
AGNES: They’ve been very nice to us.
MACREADY (To Agnes): Here, let me carry your drink.
AGNES: Thank you.
(They are gone. Having watched them go, Mrs. Forrest sighs and sits. After a moment she stands again and turns to go off toward the front desk just as Forrest enters with Miss Bass and Miss Burton. Forrest stops. Short pause.)
FORREST: Where’s the party?
MRS. FORREST: What party are you talking about? And where have you been?
FORREST: Boucicault’s party. You told me tonight was Boucicault’s party. We’ve been looking all over the hotel . . .
MRS. FORREST: It’s not a party. It’s a dinner, Mr. Forrest. A small dinner.
(Short pause.)
FORREST: Then I made a mistake.
MISS BASS: If you want us to go, Ned . . .
FORREST: Where’s the dinner?
MRS. FORREST (Nodding): Through there.
(Beat.)
FORREST: What’s a few more places? (Tries to laugh) They’re through there?
(She does not respond. He hesitates, then leads the women in the direction of the dining room.)
MRS. FORREST: Edwin.
(He stops.)
FORREST (To Misses Bass and Burton): I’ll join you in a minute. Just introduce yourselves. It’ll be fine. (Beat) It’s fine.
(They go. Short pause.)
MRS. FORREST: What have you been doing?
FORREST: Rehearsing.
MRS. FORREST: What have you been doing?
FORREST: One of the girls, Miss Burton, she’s upset because her boyfriend—the boy she thinks is her boyfriend . . . (Beat) You know who I mean. (Beat) My Banquo. Well, tonight he’s taken another actress, Miss—
MRS. FORREST: Why do I care? How could you invite them?
FORREST: They’re actresses in my—! (Stops himself. Short pause) I made a mistake. I am sorry. (Beat) I invited them to what I thought was— I can’t tell them to leave. (Beat) It would be profoundly embarrassing to just . . . (Beat) Let’s just get through this, Catherine.
(The others all return from the dining room.)
AGNES: No, it’s my fault really for not reserving a larger table.
MRS. FORREST: What’s—?
MACREADY: We don’t all fit around the table.
BOUCICAULT: And they said they can’t add on— The space in there, there’s no—
(Beat.)
AGNES: They’re seeing what they can do. They asked us to wait.
(Awkward pause.)
FORREST: I’m sorry if I caused any trouble.
AGNES: Of course not. We’re very pleased and honored you could come. And your guests. We’re very anxious to get to know all sorts of Americans.
FORREST: Thank you.
AGNES: Aren’t we?
BOUCICAULT: We are. (Beat) We certainly are.
(Another awkward pause.)
AGNES: I’ll see if anything’s been figured out yet.
(She goes. Short pause.)
FORREST: Mr. Boucicault, it is very nice to see you again. I hope your voyage was comfortable.
(They shake hands.)
BOUCICAULT: Very. Thank you. You of course know Mr. Macready.
FORREST: We’ve met before. How do you do?
MACREADY: How do you do?
BOUCICAULT: And Mr. Ryder.
FORREST: Mr. Ryder is my Macduff at the moment actually.
BOUCICAULT: Really? I didn’t— You didn’t say anything.
MACREADY: I have an American Macduff for New York. I thought it a good thing. (Beat) He’s very good as well.
(Short pause.)
RYDER: Funny, Mr. Forrest, you asked me what I was doing this evening— I guess you were going to invite me here. And here I am already. (Laughs lightly) With Mr. Macready. (Beat) I told you I was having dinner with Mr. Macready.
MRS. FORREST: My husband invited you as well?
(Pause.)
FORREST (To Miss Bass): You’ve been introduced, I—
MISS BASS: Actually . . . (Shakes her head)
MISS BURTON: No, we—
BOUCICAULT: I’m terribly sorry.
FORREST: Miss Burton. Miss Bass.
(An exchange of polite greetings. Short pause.)
They are two of my witches.
(The others nod as if this explains something.)
MISS BURTON: I’m the second.
MISS BASS: I’m the first.
(Agnes enters, followed by a maid and a servant carrying tables.)
AGNES: They think we’ll actually be more comfortable in here. We’ll set up to eat in here. And we can add on as many tables as we wish. (Beat) In case others should drop in. (Beat) I do love it when people feel they can just drop in. (Beat) For dinner.
(During much of the scene, the tables are set up, then set with tablecloths, plates, glasses, etc.)
BOUCICAULT: I hear wonderful things about your Macbeth, Mr. Forrest. (Beat) Or should I say, all of your Macbeth, as it seems half of your cast is with us tonight.
FORREST: Thank you. (Short pause) And let’s not leave Mr. Macready out. His Macbeth I have seen! Where was it? I was just today telling Mr. Ryder. Baltimore? Cincinnati?
BOUCICAULT: Agnes—Cincinnati?
(She nods and smiles.)
RYDER: It was Edinburgh.
MACREADY: I hadn’t known. Had I known—
FORREST: You were . . . Unforgettable. Even now I can close my eyes and see you there. (Beat) As Macbeth. (Beat) Unforgettable.
BOUCICAULT: Yes. And yours, it’s on everyone’s lips.
FORREST: What brings you to New York, Mr. Boucicault?
MACREADY: He’s sold his Corsican Brothers to Hackett. They’re doing it next year.
FORREST: I hope you got the money in your hand. He’ll promise anything.
(Boucicault looks at Agnes.)
AGNES: My husband has a new play.
FORREST: What’s the title?—
BOUCICAULT: I don’t want to bother you two— (Beat) Actually, now that I think of it you both could be of some help to me. That’s if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want you to think you had to work for your dinner.
(He laughs. No one else does.)
AGNES: I think we can sit down.
BOUCICAULT: Please, let’s— (Gestures for all to go to the table) The play is called Shakespeare in Love.
RYDER: Who’s sitting there?
AGNES: Dion should be at the head. Then Miss—
MISS BURTON: Burton.
AGNES: Burton to his left. And who—? Mr. Forrest? Or would you rather sit by your wife?
FORREST: I don’t care where I sit.
BOUCICAULT: And it’s about Shakespeare.
AGNES: I’ll sit at the other end. Mr. Ryder, then . . . (Points to where he should sit)
MRS. FORREST: Then I’ll sit there. (Goes to her seat)
BOUCICAULT: And he is in love. Shakespeare.
AGNES: Then Mr. Macready.
MACREADY: Where?
AGNES: Right here, next to Dion and Mrs. Forrest.
BOUCICAULT: He’s in love with a neighbor.
MACREADY: How old is he?
BOUCICAULT: He’s in his late thirties I would say. Though that could be changed. (Beat) He can be older. He can be younger.
AGNES: And that leaves Miss Bass. Miss Bass on the other side of Mr. Forrest. Who has Miss Burton on one side and Miss Bass on the other.
MRS. FORREST: My husband will be in heaven.
AGNES: Shall we sit?
(They do.)
BOUCICAULT: It’s a comedy. A rather fantastical comedy. Because, you see, various characters from his plays come back to him— to try to help him or the
y are just plain jealous of this love affair and are feeling neglected. They are very unhappy that this affair is upsetting their lives. (Beat) It’s a very good idea, isn’t it?
AGNES: Dion, they aren’t serving the food. Maybe they’ve forgotten about us.
BOUCICAULT: Why would they? (Gets up) I’ll go and see. Excuse me. Remind me where I was.
(He goes. Short pause.)
AGNES: It’s nice in here. (Beat) To have a whole room by yourself. (Beat) Things do work out.
FORREST: Mr. Macready, Mr. Ryder was telling me about some threats against . . . (Turns to Ryder) Who exactly were they against?
MACREADY: Threats?
RYDER: About Monday. About the two Macbeths.
MACREADY: Threats??
RYDER: About being foreign. The letters you received.
MACREADY: Threats???
RYDER: You asked me to talk to Mr. Forrest and—
MACREADY: Oh those. Silly ridiculous rumors. I’m sure the same must happen to you, Mr. Forrest. Jealous people.
FORREST: In England it happens to me all the time.
(Beat.)
MACREADY: One learns to ignore such things.
(Short pause.)
FORREST: You’re selling very well, I hear.
(Short pause.)
MRS. FORREST: They don’t like English people.
FORREST: Who are they?
(She shrugs.)
You don’t know what you’re talking about.
(She looks down, puts her head in her hands.)
AGNES: Do you like English people, Miss . . .
MISS BURTON: Burton. Sure. (Smiles) What’s there not to like? (Beat) What’s to like? People are people. (Shrugs) There are good and there are bad.
(Miss Bass smiles.)
What’s funny?
MISS BASS: Nothing.
MISS BURTON: You’re laughing at me.
MISS BASS: I’m not, Helen.
AGNES: What you say is true.
RYDER: Very true.
(Beat.)
AGNES: Dion doesn’t like English people, but then he’s Irish.
MACREADY: By the way, except for the accent, you’d hardly notice. He’s very well groomed.
AGNES: I don’t think I will tell him that.
MISS BASS: Why wouldn’t I like you, Mrs. Forrest? (Beat) Just because you’re English?
(Pause.)
MRS. FORREST: I wasn’t talking about you. I wasn’t talking to you. (Turns to Agnes) The women, you’ll find, it will shock you, Agnes. No—subtlety. No—charm, that I can see. So of course they will do anything. Anything. (Shakes her head) Sometimes for nothing, sometimes they want to be paid for it. (Turns to Forrest) Isn’t that right?
Goodnight Children Everywhere and Other Plays Page 13