ROSE He’d never do that.
MR KIDD He would do that. That’s exactly what he’ll do. You don’t think he’s going to go away without seeing you, after he’s come all this way, do you? You don’t think that, do you?
ROSE All this way?
MR KIDD You don’t think he’s going to do that, do you?
Pause.
ROSE He wouldn’t do that.
MR KIDD Oh yes. I know it.
Pause.
ROSE What’s the time?
MR KIDD I don’t know.
Pause.
ROSE Fetch him. Quick. Quick!
MR KIDD goes out. She sits in the rocking-chair. After a few moments the door opens. Enter a blind Negro. He closes the door behind him, walks further, and feels with a stick till he reaches the armchair. He stops.
RILEY Mrs Hudd?
ROSE You just touched a chair. Why don’t you sit in it?
He sits.
RILEY Thank you.
ROSE Don’t thank me for anything. I don’t want you up here. I don’t know who you are. And the sooner you get out the better.
Pause.
(Rising.) Well, come on. Enough’s enough. You can take a liberty too far, you know. What do you want? You force your way up here. You disturb my evening. You come in and sit down here. What do you want?
He looks about the room.
What are you looking at? You’re blind, aren’t you? So what are you looking at? What do you think you’ve got here, a little girl? I can keep up with you. I’m one ahead of people like you. Tell me what you want and get out.
RILEY My name is Riley.
ROSE I don’t care if it’s – What? That’s not your name. That’s not your name. You’ve got a grown-up woman in this room, do you hear? Or are you deaf too? You’re not deaf too, are you? You’re all deaf and dumb and blind, the lot of you. A bunch of cripples.
Pause.
RILEY This is a large room.
ROSE Never mind about the room. What do you know about this room? You know nothing about it. And you won’t be staying in it long either. My luck. I get these creeps come in, smelling up my room. What do you want?
RILEY I want to see you.
ROSE Well you can’t see me, can you? You’re a blind man. An old, poor blind man. Aren’t you? Can’t see a dickeybird.
Pause.
They say I know you. That’s an insult, for a start. Because I can tell you, I wouldn’t know you to spit on, not from a mile off.
Pause.
Oh, these customers. They come in here and stink the place out. After a handout. I know all about it. And as for you saying you know me, what liberty is that? Telling my landlord too. Upsetting my landlord. What do you think you’re up to? We’re settled down here, cosy, quiet, and our landlord thinks the world of us, we’re his favourite tenants, and you come in and drive him up the wall, and drag my name into it! What did you mean by dragging my name into it, and my husband’s name? How did you know what our name was?
Pause.
You’ve led him a dance, have you, this weekend? You’ve got him going, have you? A poor, weak old man, who lets a respectable house. Finished. Done for. You push your way in and shove him about. And you drag my name into it.
Pause.
Come on, then. You say you wanted to see me. Well, I’m here. Spit it out or out you go. What do you want?
RILEY I have a message for you.
ROSE You’ve got what? How could you have a message for me, Mister Riley, when I don’t know you and nobody knows I’m here and I don’t know anybody anyway. You think I’m an easy touch, don’t you? Well, why don’t you give it up as a bad job? Get off out of it. I’ve had enough of this. You’re not only a nut, you’re a blind nut and you can get out the way you came.
Pause.
What message? Who have you got a message from? Who?
RILEY Your father wants you to come home.
Pause.
ROSE Home?
RILEY Yes.
ROSE Home? Go now. Come on. It’s late. It’s late.
RILEY To come home.
ROSE Stop it. I can’t take it. What do you want? What do you want?
RILEY Come home, Sal.
Pause.
ROSE What did you call me?
RILEY Come home, Sal.
ROSE Don’t call me that.
RILEY Come, now.
ROSE Don’t call me that.
RILEY So now you’re here.
ROSE Not Sal.
RILEY Now I touch you.
ROSE Don’t touch me.
RILEY Sal.
ROSE I can’t.
RILEY I want you to come home.
ROSE No.
RILEY With me.
ROSE I can’t.
RILEY I waited to see you.
ROSE Yes.
RILEY Now I see you.
ROSE Yes.
RILEY Sal.
ROSE Not that.
RILEY So, now.
Pause.
So, now.
ROSE I’ve been here.
RILEY Yes.
ROSE Long.
RILEY Yes.
ROSE The day is a hump. I never go out.
RILEY No.
ROSE I’ve been here.
RILEY Come home now, Sal.
She touches his eyes, the back of his head and his temples with her hands. Enter BERT.
He stops at the door, then goes to the window and draws the curtains. It is dark. He comes to the centre of the room and regards the woman.
BERT I got back all right.
ROSE (going towards him) Yes.
BERT I got back all right.
Pause.
ROSE Is it late?
BERT I had a good bowl down there.
Pause.
I drove her down, hard. They got it dark out.
ROSE Yes.
BERT Then I drove her back, hard. They got it very icy out.
ROSE Yes.
BERT But I drove her.
Pause.
I sped her.
Pause.
I caned her along. She was good. Then I got back. I could see the road all right. There was no cars. One there was. He wouldn’t move. I bumped him. I got my road. I had all my way. There again and back. They shoved out of it. I kept on the straight. There was no mixing it. Not with her. She was good. She went with me. She don’t mix it with me. I use my hand. Like that. I get hold of her. I go where I go. She took me there. She brought me back.
Pause.
I got back all right.
He takes the chair from the table and sits to the left of RILEY’s chair, close to it. He regards the RILEY for some moments. Then with his foot he lifts the armchair up. RILEY falls on to the floor. He rises slowly.
RILEY Mr Hudd, your wife –
BERT Lice!
He strikes RILEY, knocking him down, and then kicks his head against the gas-stove several times. RILEY lies still, BERT walks away.
Silence.
ROSE stands clutching her eyes.
ROSE Can’t see. I can’t see. I can’t see.
Blackout.
Curtain.
THE DUMB WAITER
The Dumb Waiter first published by
Methuen & Co. 1960
© FPinter Limited, 1959, 1960
The Dumb Waiter was first presented at Hampstead Theatre Club on 21 January 1960, with the following cast:
BEN Nicholas Selby
GUS George Tovey
Directed by James Roose-Evans
This production transferred to the Royal Court Theatre, London, on 8 March1960, with the same cast.
The Dumb Waiter was produced for BBC Televison on 23 July 1985, with the following cast:
BEN Colin Blakely
GUS Kenneth Cranham
Directed by Kenneth Ives
Characters
BEN
GUS
Scene: a basement room. Two beds, flat against the back wall. A serving hatch, closed, between the
beds. A door to the kitchen and lavatory, left. A door to a passage, right.
BEN is lying on a bed, left, reading a paper, GUS is sitting on a bed, right, tying his shoelaces, with difficulty. Both are dressed in shirts, trousers and braces.
Silence.
GUS ties his laces, rises, yawns and begins to walk slowly to the door, left. He stops, looks down, and shakes his foot.
BEN lowers his paper and watches him. GUS kneels and unties his shoe-lace and slowly takes off the shoe. He looks inside it and brings out a flattened matchbox. He shakes it and examines it. Their eyes meet, BEN rattles his paper and reads. GUS puts the matchbox in his pocket and bends down to put on his shoe. He ties his lace, with difficulty. BEN lowers his paper and watches him. GUS walks to the door, left, stops, and shakes the other foot. He kneels, unties his shoe-lace, and slowly takes off the shoe. He looks inside it and brings out a flattened cigarette packet. He shakes it and examines it. Their eyes meet. BEN rattles his paper and reads. GUS puts the packet in his pocket, bends down, puts on his shoe and ties the lace.
He wanders off, left.
BEN slams the paper down on the bed and glares after him. He picks up the paper and lies on his back, reading.
Silence.
A lavatory chain is pulled twice off, left, but the lavatory does not flush.
Silence.
GUS re-enters, left, and halts at the door, scratching his head.
BEN slams down the paper.
BEN Kaw!
He picks up the paper.
What about this? Listen to this.
He refers to the paper.
A man of eighty-seven wanted to cross the road. But there was a lot of traffic, see? He couldn’t see how he was going to squeeze through. So he crawled under a lorry.
GUS He what?
BEN He crawled under a lorry. A stationary lorry.
GUS No?
BEN The lorry started and ran over him.
GUS Go on!
BEN That’s what it says here.
GUS Get away.
BEN It’s enough to make you want to puke, isn’t it?
GUS Who advised him to do a thing like that?
BEN A man of eighty-seven crawling under a lorry!
GUS It’s unbelievable.
BEN It’s down here in black and white.
GUS Incredible.
Silence. GUS shakes his head and exits. BEN lies back and reads.
The lavatory chain is pulled once off left, but the lavatory does not flush.
BEN whistles at an item in the paper.
GUS re-enters.
I want to ask you something.
BEN What are you doing out there?
GUS Well, I was just –
BEN What about the tea?
GUS I’m just going to make it.
BEN Well, go on, make it.
GUS Yes, I will. (He sits in a chair. Ruminatively.) He’s laid on some very nice crockery this time, I’ll say that. It’s sort of striped. There’s a white stripe.
BEN reads.
It’s very nice. I’ll say that.
BEN turns the page.
You know, sort of round the cup. Round the rim. All the rest of it’s black, you see. Then the saucer’s black, except for right in the middle, where the cup goes, where it’s white.
BEN reads.
Then the plates are the same, you see. Only they’ve got a black stripe – the plates – right across the middle. Yes, I’m quite taken with the crockery.
BEN (still reading) What do you want plates for? You’re not going to eat.
GUS I’ve brought a few biscuits.
BEN Well, you’d better eat them quick.
GUS I always bring a few biscuits. Or a pie. You know I can’t drink tea without anything to eat.
BEN Well, make the tea then, will you? Time’s getting on.
GUS brings out the flattened cigarette packet and examines it.
GUS You got any cigarettes? I think I’ve run out.
He throws the packet high up and leans forward to catch it.
I hope it won’t be a long job, this one.
Aiming carefully, he flips the packet under his bed.
Oh, I wanted to ask you something.
BEN (slamming his paper down) Kaw!
GUS What’s that?
BEN A child of eight killed a cat!
GUS Get away.
BEN It’s a fact. What about that, eh? A child of eight killing a cat!
GUS How did he do it?
BEN It was a girl.
GUS How did she do it?
BEN She –
He picks up the paper and studies it.
It doesn’t say.
GUS Why not?
BEN Wait a minute. It just says – ‘Her brother, aged eleven, viewed the incident from the toolshed.’
GUS Go on!
BEN That’s bloody ridiculous.
Pause.
GUS I bet he did it.
BEN Who?
GUS The brother.
BEN I think you’re right.
Pause.
(Slamming down the paper.) What about that, eh? A kid of eleven killing a cat and blaming it on his little sister of eight! It’s enough to -
He breaks off in disgust and seizes the paper.
GUS rises.
GUS What time is he getting in touch?
BEN reads.
What time is he getting in touch?
BEN What’s the matter with you? It could be any time. Any time.
GUS (moves to the foot of BEN’s bed) Well, I was going to ask you something.
BEN What?
GUS Have you noticed the time that tank takes to fill?
BEN What tank?
GUS In the lavatory.
BEN No. Does it?
GUS Terrible.
BEN Well, what about it?
GUS What do you think’s the matter with it?
BEN Nothing.
GUS Nothing?
BEN It’s got a deficient ballcock, that’s all.
GUS A deficient what?
BEN Ballcock.
GUS No? Really?
BEN That’s what I should say.
GUS Go on! That didn’t occur to me.
GUS wanders to his bed and presses the mattress.
I didn’t have a very restful sleep today, did you? It’s not much of a bed. I could have done with another blanket too.
He catches sight of a picture on the wall.
Hello, what’s this?
(Peering at it.) ‘The First Eleven.’ Cricketers. You seen this, Ben?
BEN (reading) What?
GUS The first eleven.
BEN What?
GUS There’s a photo here of the first eleven.
BEN What first eleven?
GUS (studying the photo) It doesn’t say.
BEN What about that tea?
GUS They all look a bit old to me.
GUS wanders downstage, looks out front, then all about the room.
I wouldn’t like to live in this dump. I wouldn’t mind if you had a window, you could see what it looked like outside.
BEN What do you want a window for?
GUS Well, I like to have a bit of a view, Ben. It whiles away the time.
He walks about the room.
I mean, you come into a place when it’s still dark, you come into a room you’ve never seen before, you sleep all day, you do your job, and then you go away in the night again.
Pause.
I like to get a look at the scenery. You never get the chance in this job.
BEN You get your holidays, don’t you?
GUS Only a fortnight.
BEN (lowering the paper) You kill me. Anyone would think you’re working every day. How often do we do a job? Once a week? What are you complaining about?
GUS Yes, but we’ve got to be on tap though, haven’t we? You can’t move out of the house in case a call comes.
BEN You know what your trouble is?
GUS What?
BEN You haven’t got any interests.
GUS I’ve got interests.
BEN What? Tell me one of your interests.
Pause.
GUS I’ve got interests.
BEN Look at me. What have I got?
GUS I don’t know. What?
BEN I’ve got my woodwork. I’ve got my model boats. Have you ever seen me idle? I’m never idle. I know how to occupy my time, to its best advantage. Then when a call comes, I’m ready.
GUS Don’t you ever get a bit fed up?
BEN Fed up? What with?
Silence.
BEN reads. GUS feels in the pocket of his jacket, which hangs on the bed.
GUS You got any cigarettes? I’ve run out.
The lavatory flushes off left.
There she goes.
GUS sits on his bed.
No, I mean, I say the crockery’s good. It is. It’s very nice. But that’s about all I can say for this place. It’s worse than the last one. Remember that last place we were in? Last time, where was it? At least there was a wireless there. No, honest. He doesn’t seem to bother much about our comfort these days.
BEN When are you going to stop jabbering?
GUS You’d get rheumatism in a place like this, if you stay long.
BEN We’re not staying long. Make the tea, will you? We’ll be on the job in a minute.
GUS picks up a small bag by his bed and brings out a packet of tea. He examines it and looks up.
GUS Eh, I’ve been meaning to ask you.
BEN What the hell is it now?
GUS Why did you stop the car this morning, in the middle of that road?
BEN (lowering the paper) I thought you were asleep.
GUS I was, but I woke up when you stopped. You did stop, didn’t you?
The Short Plays of Harold Pinter Page 3