PLAYER ( gaily freeing himself): I did!---I did!---You're quicker than your friend...
( Confidingly. ) Now for a handful of guilders I happen to have a private and uncut performance of The Rape of the Sabine Women---or rather woman, or rather Alfred---
( Over his shoulder. ) Get your skirt on, Alfred...
BOY starts struggling into a female robe
... and for eight you can participate.
GUIL backs, PLAYER follows
... taking either part.
GUIL backs
... or both for ten.
GUIL tries to turn away, PLAYER holds his sleeve.
... with encores.
GUIL smashes the PLAYER across the face. The PLAYER recoils. GUIL stands trembling.
( Resigned and quiet). Get your skirt off, Alfred.
ALFRED struggles out of his half-on robe...
GUIL ( shaking with rage and fright): It could have been---it didn't have to be obscene... It could have been---a bird out of season, dropping bright-feathered on my shoulder... I could have been a tongueless dwarf standing by the road point the way... I was prepared. But it's this, is it? No enigma, no dignity, nothing classical, portentous, only this ---a comic pornographer and a rabble of prostitutes. .
PLAYER ( acknowledging the description with a sweep of his he bowing; sadly): You should have caught us in better times. We were purists then. ( Straightens up. ) On-ward.
The PLAYERS make to leave.
ROS ( his voice has changed; he has caught on): Excuse me!
PLAYER: Ha-alt!
They halt.
A-al-l-fred!
ALFRED resumes the struggle. The PLAYER comes forward.
ROS: You're not-ah-exclusively players, then?
PLAYER: We're inclusively players, sir.
ROS: So you give---exhibitions?
PLAYER: Performances, Sir.
ROS: Yes, of course. There's more money in that, is there?
PLAYER: There's more trade, Sir.
ROS: Times being what they are.
PLAYER: Yes.
ROS: Indifferent.
PLAYER: Completely.
ROS: You know I'd no idea
PLAYER: No---
ROS: I mean, I've heard of---but I've never actually
PLAYER: No.
ROS: I mean, what exactly do you do?
PLAYER: We keep to our usual stuff, more or less, only inside out. We do on stage the things that are supposed to happen off. Which is a kind of integrity, if you look on every exit being an entrance somewhere else.
ROS ( nervy, loud): Well, I'm not really the type of man who--no, but don't hurry off---sit down and tell us about some of the things people ask you to do.
The PLAYER turns away.
PLAYER: On-ward!
ROS: Just a minute! They turn and look at him without expression. Well, all right---I wouldn't mind seeing---just an idea of the kind of---( Bravely. ) What will you do for that? ( And tosses a single coin on the ground between them. )
The PLAYER spits at the coin, from where he stands. The TRAGEDIANS demur, trying to get at the coin. He kicks and cuffs them back.
On!
ALFRED is still half in and out of his robe. The PLAYER cuffs him.
( TO ALFRED :) What are you playing at?
ROS is shamed into fury.
ROS: Filth! Disgusting---I'll report you to the authorities---perverts! I know your game all right, it's all filth!
The PLAYERS are about to leave. GUIL has remained detached.
GUIL ( casually): Do you like a bet?
The TRAGEDIANS turn and look interested. The PLAYER comes forward.
PLAYER: What kind of bet did you have in mind?
GUIL walks half the distance towards the PLAYER , Stomps his boot over the coin.
GUIL: Double or quits.
PLAYER: Well... heads.
GUIL raises his foot. The PLAYER bends. The TRAGEDIAN crowd round. Relief and congratulations. The PLAYER picks up the coin. GUIL throws him a second coin.
GUIL: Again?
Some of the TRAGEDIANS are for it, others against.
GUIL: Evens.
The PLAYER nods and tosses the coin.
GUIL: Heads.
It is. He picks it up. Again. GUIL spins coin.
PLAYER: Heads.
It is. PLAYER picks up coin. He has two coins again. He spins one.
GUIL: Heads.
It is. GUIL picks it up. Then tosses it immediately.
PLAYER ( fractional hesitation): Tails.
But it's heads. GUIL picks it up. PLAYER tosses down his last coin by way of paying up, and turns away. GUIL doesn't pick it up; he puts his foot on it.
GUIL: Heads.
PLAYER: No!
Pause. The TRAGEDIANS are against this.
( Apologetically. ) They don't like the odds.
GUIL ( lifts his foot, squats, picks up the coin still squatting, looks up): You were right---
heads. ( Spins it, slaps his hand on it, on the floor. ) Heads I win.
PLAYER: No.
GUIL ( uncovers coin): Right again. ( Repeat. ) Heads I win.
PLAYER: No.
GUIL ( uncovers coin): And right again. ( Repeat. ) Heads I win.
PLAYER: No!
He turns away, the TRAGEDIANS with him. comes close. GUIL stands up, GUIL: Would you believe it? ( Stands back, relaxes smiles. ) Bet me the year of my birth doubled is an odd number.
PLAYER: Your birth---!
GUIL: If you don't trust me don't bet with me.
PLAYER: Would you trust me?
GUIL: Bet me then.
PLAYER: My birth?
GUIL: Odd numbers you win.
PLAYER: You're on!
The TRAGEDIANS have come forward, wide awake.
GUIL: Good. Year of your birth. Double it. Even numbers I win, odd numbers I lose. Silence.
An awful sigh as the TRAGEDIANS realize that any number doubled is even. Then a terrible row as they object. Then a terrible silence.
PLAYER: We have no money. GUIL turns to him.
GUIL: Ah. Then what have you got?
The PLAYER silently brings ALFRED forward. GUIL regards ALFRED sadly.
Was it for this?
PLAYER: It's the best we've got.
GUIL ( looking up and around): Then the times are bad indeed.