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חיפוש בבמה

שם משתמש או מספר
[ אני רוצה משתמש! ]
[ איבדתי סיסמה ): ]

מדורי במה

(by order of appearance)

LADY POLLY, his wife.
LADY MOLLY, his wife.
SIR DOLLY, a knight.
SIR TOLLY, a knight (retired).


A completely empty scene.  Light emanates from one source,
positioned very high above the stage, creating a sharp cone
of light just big enough for a person to stand in.  Rather
close to this spot there is a sign on the wall reading
'Should this not have been the Epilogue?'

[Enter LORD POLLY.  Walks slowly through the circle and
passes on from it, standing in complete darkness.]

LORD POLLY. [Appearing confused or drunk.]  You have
gathered here today.  Life, at first sight, is something
that everyone should try at least once.  Why you have
gathered here I fail to recall, but will attempt to put up
an improvisation as good as possible.  We are here on Earth
to do good to others.  What the others are here for, I don't
know.  [Walks hesitantly in dark parts of the scene, barely
visible to the audience.  Stops as if struck by a miraculous
thought.]  You know, the one truly remarkable thing about
Shakespeare is...  [Pauses, unable to recall.]  That he
really is very good.  You know, in spite of all the people
who say he is very good.



A dining room in LORD POLLY's castle.  Three chairs are
spread violently across the chamber.  A table lies on its
side.  A small stool stands in the corner.  The walls are
empty beside one large painting on the back wall, of a naked
lady yawning.  The room is illuminated by a myriad of
candles positioned on the floor virtually everywhere and
making stepping through rather difficult.


LORD POLLY. What a refreshing night's sleep it has been, my

LADY POLLY. Aye, indeed.  War is not nice, my good lord, I
hate to tell you that.  Repeatedly, I say, even.  Look at
those candles, I can barely find a place to step with my
gentle feet.  And besides,

LORD POLLY. [Interrupts her.]  I don't care what is written
about me so long as it isn't true.

LADY POLLY. [Turns around to pick up a few candles.  Steps
up to the painting on the back wall and cares to read the
inscription on the bottom.]  Well, and I don't care for a
man who can only spell 'Jesus' one way.  [To herself.]
Surely there's nothing in the world that hears more a
ridiculous opinion than a painting hanged in a public place.
[To her husband.]  In a letter from Lord Molly, I read many
a very interesting gossip about his late mother's last

LORD POLLY. Yes, I have heard.  She was attributed to say
that no Barrymore would allow such a conventional thing to
happen to him.  But here is our good Lord Molly to tell us
of that.

[Enter LORD MOLLY, short of breath.  He steps on a few
candles and hits his shoes one against the other so to
prevent them from going on fire.  Finally he sees the host
and hostess and waves his hand rather frivolously.]

LORD MOLLY. I see, friends, that you have been expecting my
presence tediously.  My earlier visit to court has only
brought me to the suggestion that but so many people would
have been alive today had the death penalty been introduced
in England.

LORD POLLY. I wish I could offer you a seat, good lord.

LADY POLLY. [Sighs impatiently.]  Truth is beautiful,
without doubt.

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  So are lies.

LORD MOLLY. You know, friends, when I was to the United
States I only the more became convinced in the truth of the
old saying that anyone...  [LADY POLLY giggles cheerfully,
to the utter disappointment of her husband.]  Could become
President there.

[Enter LADY MOLLY, unnoticed, with an ominous expression on
her face, holding a long dagger in her lap.]

LADY MOLLY. God save the Queen!  [Stabs the painting in the

LORD POLLY. [To himself.]  God?  I have too much respect
for the idea of God to make it responsible for such an
absurd world.  [To his wife.]  Somebody has to do

LADY POLLY. [To her husband.]  And it's just incredibly
pathetic that it has to be us.  [LADY POLLY grabs LADY MOLLY
by the shoulder, turns her around and kisses her
passionately on the forehead.]  Good morrow, fair lady.  How
have you dined?

LADY MOLLY. But terribly.  [To her husband, who in the
meantime approaches while LADY POLLY steps backward.]  I was
going to buy myself a copy of a new title, 'The Power of
Positive Thinking.'

LORD MOLLY. Hell, what good would it do?  [To LADY POLLY.]
Pardon my language, kind friend.

LORD POLLY. [To himself.]  The public will believe
anything, so long as it is not founded on truth.  Would you
call your Queen 'the alleged Queen of England' to avoid
libel suits?  Only those American minds could have brought
up a ridicule of such degree.  [To his wife.]  You know,
'tis not enough to succeed that you be stupid.

LADY POLLY. Yes.  You must also be well-mannered, and you
apparently lack that ingredient.  Show the way out to our
friend.  [Pushes LADY MOLLY into his reach.  Exit LORD POLLY



The same room.  Chairs slightly differently arranged, and
the table is up again.  The painting on the wall retains all
stabs.  LADY POLLY sits on the little stool, holding her
head between both palms.

LADY POLLY. For how long have I attributed to malice what
could so adequately been explained by stupidity!  Have I but
underestimated average intelligence?

[Approach LORD MOLLY, who was in the outer door, listening

LORD MOLLY. Now, now.  There is no such a thing as an
underestimate of average intelligence.

[Enter SIR DOLLY.]

SIR DOLLY. Greetings, fair friends!  Have the splendors of
rumor avoided your grasp?

LORD MOLLY. [To LADY POLLY.]  We are sure to hear those
rumors now whether we want them or not.  [Sighs.]  Any fool
can criticize, condemn, complain.

LADY POLLY. [To LORD MOLLY.]  And most fools do.  [Stands
up and wipes her eyes with a piece of dirty cloth on which
the stool stands.  To SIR DOLLY.]  What rumors ought we have

SIR DOLLY. But those of miraculous splendor!

LADY POLLY. Quit your decorum.  If you're a messenger, do
carry your message on.  If you're a friend, come dine with

SIR DOLLY. Well, if you don't find it in the index, I
suppose you ought to be looking for it rather carefully
through the entire catalogue.  Only recently had I quit
therapy because my analyst was trying to help me behind my

LORD MOLLY. [To LADY POLLY.]  It truly is audacious on my
behalf to ask, but I was wondering if you were truly

LADY POLLY. [To LORD MOLLY.]  A good listener is usually
thinking about something else.

SIR DOLLY. Thank you for your time, good lady, and yours,
good lord.  I could not ever find more rest elsewhere.

LADY POLLY. [Smiles and puts forward her both hands.]  You
are but always welcome, Sir Dolly.  It is fun being in the
same decade with you.

SIR DOLLY. [Steps towards the exit.]  You're such a
diplomatist, my lady.  I always thought politics were too
serious a matter to be handed out to the politicians.

LORD MOLLY. [To LADY POLLY.]  That to imply that you, kind
friend, should involve in politics.  [To both.]  You know
how rare an honest politician is nowadays.

LADY POLLY. [To LORD MOLLY.]  Yes, it's the kind that, once
bought, remains bought.  [To both.]  I am but so honored.
But when the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see
every problem as a nail.


LORD MOLLY. When ideas fail, words come in very handy.

LADY POLLY. I am to agree.  The secret of staying young is
to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.
[Pauses to look at LORD MOLLY but sees that he is still
listening attentively.]  Ah, and not write your
autobiography until you're dead.

LORD MOLLY. Still, it is not pollution that is harming the

LADY POLLY. Beyond doubt.  It's the impurities in our air
and water that are.



Another room in the castle.  No furniture but a large bed in
the alcove, placed atop the wall-to-wall aquamarine fur
carpets.  A large stain of blood is visible on the external
wall, the others bear no sign of being used for living.  The
gloomy atmosphere is emphasized by the almost total lack of
illumination.  LORD POLLY sits on the floor, holding his
knees, weeping idly.  LADY MOLLY sleeps in the bed.

[Enter LADY POLLY, appearing to be shocked by the sight of
her husband.]

LADY POLLY. I have left a guest unattended below, only to
find you in such state!  [Sniffs across the room, moving
vividly.]  I smell flowers.  Where is the coffin?

LORD POLLY. [Looks up to her.]  It doesn't make any
difference what temperature a room is, it's always room

LADY POLLY. Yes, beyond doubt.  Your ambition is a poor
excuse for not having sense enough to be lazy.

LORD POLLY. Oh, my cynical lady!  Have you no tact?  This
infrequent ability to describe others as they wish to see
themselves?  [Carries on weeping loudly.]

LADY POLLY. Indeed, my lord?  Well, cynicism is nothing but
the unpleasant way of saying the truth.  The direct use of
force is the best solution to every problem.

LORD POLLY. [Sealing his head up in the fur of the carpet.]
Such a poor solution that it is generally employed only by
small children and large nations.

[Enter LORD MOLLY, fox-trotting on the carpet.]

LADY POLLY. [Approaches and stares at the stain on the
wall.]  Only quite rarely, when the thought 'Why I married
you?' crosses my mind, do I believe that skill without
imagination gives us craftsmanship, while imagination
without skill gives us modern art.

LORD MOLLY. Dear friend, 'tis not art at all.

LADY POLLY. That which I was saying!

LORD MOLLY. 'Tis only a bloody spot which some
poorly-behaved guest has made up.

LORD POLLY. [Raises on his feet violently, pointing an
accusative finger towards his adversary.]  You can't make up
anything anymore!  The world itself is a satire.  All you
can do is record it.

LORD MOLLY. [In what appears to be an extroverted
monologue.]  I am always doing that which I cannot do, in
order to learn how to do it.  [In his normal tone.]  One
critic wrote that my manuscript is both good and original,
but the part that is good is not original, and the part that
is original is not good. Another questioned the creativity
of my sources, and hinted to me that the secret to the
former is knowing how to hide the latter.

LADY POLLY. My good Molly!  [To herself.]  History teaches
us that men only behave wisely once they have exhausted all
other alternatives.  [To all again.]  Pay no attention to
what the critics say.

LADY MOLLY. [Awakes, stretching and coughing blood.]
Surely, there has never been a statue set in honor of a
critic.  Gentlemen, life is what happens to you while you're
busy making other plans.  [Coughs again, and fades off.]

LADY POLLY. [To LORD MOLLY.]  Judging by her cough, she
should instead be thinking what death is.

LORD MOLLY. [Horrified, to LORD POLLY, who in the meantime
wanders around, drooling and overall appearing insane.]
Good grace, your wife surely has in her a novel.

LORD POLLY. [Stands still and stares at him.]  Which is a
good place for it, rest assured.  A good deed never goes

LADY POLLY. Friends, we shall all convene tomorrow to
discuss that last issue.  Somehow we always come to admire
the other person more after we've tried to do his job.

LORD POLLY. [To LADY POLLY.]  How predictable you've

LADY POLLY. [In an outburst of emotions which ceases
shortly afterwards.]  When I read about the evils of
drinking, I gave up reading.

LORD MOLLY. [Thoughtfully.]  I envy people who drink.  At
least they have something to blame everything on.



A small cabin in the wilderness is visible through the big
window of the hall.  The room appears neglected and unused
for generations, dust covering every remain of its content.
Woodpeckers and termites are heard in the background,
demolishing the remains.

[Enter SIR DOLLY, smiling and slowly singing to himself a
tune.  He does not remember most words and improvises his
way through.]

SIR DOLLY. A lot of people like [Pauses.] snow,
But many find it to be
Just a [Pauses.] pointless freezing of water,
That you don't need to [Hums and repeats the line.]

[Enter LADY MOLLY naked, paying no attention to the presence
of a stranger.  She approaches the window, opens it wide and
sends the cabin a passionate kiss.]

[Enter LORD MOLLY, following his wife with a bunch of

SIR DOLLY. [Astonished but calm.]  Madam, don't you find
hopeful symbolism in the fact...

LORD MOLLY. [Interrupts him.]  That flags don't wave in
vacuum.  Yes she does.  Now move it.  [Pushes him aside and
continues to pursue his wife, who in the meantime proceeds
to jump carelessly around the room, shuddering gently in the
cold wind.]  Would you at least shut the window close?

SIR DOLLY. But my good lord!  I am not suited for such
misdemeanor.  I have given two cousins to war and...

LORD MOLLY. [Interrupts him.]  You must be ready to
sacrifice your wife's brother.

SIR DOLLY. That I would be, but I have no wife.

LORD MOLLY. My condolences.

SIR DOLLY. [Walks to the exit, muttering to himself, loud
enough to be heard.]  If you want to know what God thinks of
money, just look at the people he gave it to!  [Sighs loudly
as if in a cry of anguish seeking comfort.]  Some day I will
be rich.  Some people get so rich they lose all respect to
humanity.  That's how rich I want to be.  [Exit.]

LORD MOLLY. [To himself.]  We must believe in luck.  How
else can we explain the success of such men?  [Continues his
pursuit.  To his wife.]  Come on, dearest.  You know the
quickest way to end a war is to lose it.  Now, now.

LADY MOLLY. [Drops into his lap but refuses the towels.]
There's this one thing I would like to tell you, dear.
[Tries to look in his eyes but he turns his head away.]  I
think the rings of Saturn are composed of lost airline

LORD MOLLY. And are entirely right in reasoning so.  [To
himself.]  The only thing wrong with immortality is that it
tends to go on forever.  [To his wife.]  But where is our
hostess?  [Enter LORD POLLY and approaches.  Sees the
couple, blushes wildly and turns to walk away.  To him.]
Hold there, good lord.  Fair morrow to you.

LORD POLLY. I was inclined to believe that I really saw...
[Turns around and opens his eyes wide.]

LORD MOLLY. [Interrupts.]  Reality is that which, when you
stop believing it, doesn't go away.

LADY MOLLY. [To herself.]  Never believe anything until it
has been officially denied.  [To all, appearing truly
interested.]  And what does that imply as to cucumbers?

LORD POLLY. It is to imply that you ought to cut the
cucumber in two pieces, then slice it carefully like that.
[Articulates in the air.]  Then dress it with pepper and
vinegar, salt and soy sauce.  Am I correct?

LORD MOLLY. [Stands his wife up, grabs her arm and starts
walking towards the exit.]  Indefinitely.  The best you
would then do with such a cucumber is throw it away.  [Exit

LORD POLLY. Sometimes I feel that a monologue is in place,
especially when everyone else leaves, yet am unable to speak
to myself as freely as I would to an audience.



Another of the infinitely many deserted castle halls, that
appears to have been an armory judging by the various
ancient weapons decorating the external wall.  The naked
floor is host to two inconvenient plastic chairs and a large
movable stand for spirits on which also a hat is situated.
The walls are naked as well and are covered by a thick layer
of green slime.  The room is illuminated by a large
old-fashioned electric bulb hanging some two meters above
the floor and way below the ceiling.  LORD POLLY and LADY
POLLY are sitting on the plastic chairs, appearing to be
absorbed in their dialogue.

LORD POLLY. [Sipping from a dusty bottle of Scotch.]  My
father hated radio.  He hated radio so much he couldn't wait
for television to be invented such that he could hate it

LADY POLLY. How unfortunate for him.


LADY POLLY. Because he's met his Maker by the time
television was invented.

LORD POLLY. Well, he surely was prepared to meet his

LADY POLLY. Whether his Maker was prepared for meeting him
is another matter.  [Enter SIR DOLLY, smiling and
approaching the hosts.  Audibly, such that SIR DOLLY can
hear her.]  What a pity to see him here again.

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  Are you out of your mind?

LADY POLLY. [To her husband.]  To disagree with
three-fourths of the British public is the first requisite
of sanity.

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  You're simply unable to take

LADY POLLY. [To her husband.]  Honest criticism is hard to
take, particularly from a relative.

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  Or a friend, or an
acquaintance, or a stranger.  [To SIR DOLLY, who in the
meantime removes his hat and stands next to him.]  What has
brought you here?

SIR DOLLY. I've come to share with you an insight as per
the theory of dialectics.

LORD POLLY. My wife and I are big fans of dialectics.

SIR DOLLY. You must be acquainted to the relations of
quantity and quality.  [LORD POLLY and LADY POLLY look at
each other and shrug their shoulders.]  If a man hasn't but
one watch, he can surely know the time.  If he has two
watches, however, he cannot ever know the time.

LADY POLLY. [Leans forward to him.]  Sir Dolly, I always
wanted to tell you that it's common practice for the small
thieves to be hanged by the big ones.

SIR DOLLY. True, but I am expert in my field.

LORD POLLY. An expert is a person who avoids small error as
he sweeps on to the great fallacy.  Besides, what field is

[Enter LADY MOLLY, wearing nothing but a blanket to her body
and again appearing to ignore the presence of anyone in the

LADY MOLLY. [Wandering about.]  I loathe people who keep
dogs.  They are cowards, for they haven't got the guts to
bite the people themselves.

SIR DOLLY. That's what we needed here, a fresh mind.  Say,
my lady, what have you to comment on the latest deflation of
the German Mark?

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  What the hell does he think
she's to say?

LADY POLLY. [To her husband.]  She is an economist.

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  Of those who state the obvious
in terms of the incomprehensible?

LADY POLLY. [To her husband.]  No, of those who lend you
your umbrella in a shiny day and want it back the minute it
starts raining.

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  That's a banker, my dear.

LADY MOLLY. [Ignoring the question and the dialogue,
pointing at the electric bulb.]  The sun is shining so
boldly today.  [Enter LORD MOLLY, wearing a transparent
ghastly nightgown and stepping forward to capture his wife.]
It reminds me of our safari in Africa.

LORD MOLLY. Oh yes, when you forgot the corkscrew and for
several days we had to live on nothing but food and water.
[Captures his wife and leads her to the exit.  To the
others.]  You live and learn.  [Exit both.]

SIR DOLLY. At any rate, you live.

LADY POLLY. [To her husband.]  And think, unlike him.

LORD POLLY. [To his wife.]  Many people would sooner die.

LADY POLLY. [To her husband.]  And so they do.  [Removes a
machete from the external wall and pursues SIR DOLLY, who
desperately attempts to avoid her stab, running to the
external door, in which LORD MOLLY appears and gives way to
them.  Exit LADY POLLY and SIR DOLLY.  Enter LORD MOLLY, his
hands covered by blood.]

LORD MOLLY. No one really listens to anyone else.  I wonder
why people are so arranged.

LORD POLLY. [Turns away from him.]  If you try it for a
while, you'll see why.

LORD MOLLY. [Thoughtfully raising his finger and nearly
touching the electric bulb.]  Per contra, everybody lies.

LORD POLLY. What difference does it make if nobody listens?
[Pauses to light a Cuban cigar.]  For instance, I've
learned that it is impossible to travel faster than the
speed of light.

LORD MOLLY. Yes, I've also heard of that.  There's
something about the arrangement of electrons that disallows

LORD POLLY. It's just that if you travel faster, your hat
keeps blowing off.  I find hats as a custom to be a truly
annoying British tradition.  [Picks his hat from the table
and lights it up with his cigar.]

LORD MOLLY. But if God wanted us to move to America, he
would have given us tickets.



A large bathroom in the castle.  The sanitary constructions
are hidden by a large semi-transparent curtain and are
illuminated from within.  The marble floor is lit as if from
beyond, and a small wooden stool is the only furniture.
Loud voices of shrieking are heard from behind the curtain,
but no one appears to be in there.

[Enter LADY MOLLY, with a sane look in her eyes.  She
advances towards the curtain without removing it and listens
alertly to the sounds.]

LADY MOLLY. Cats are intended to teach us that not
everything in nature has a function.

[Enter LADY POLLY, terrified by the sight of LADY MOLLY

LADY POLLY. [Approaches her from behind, turns her around
by the shoulders and looks her in the eyes.  To herself.]
Sometimes when I look in her eyes I get the feeling that
someone else is driving.

LADY MOLLY. [Apparently has heard her.]  But the most
beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.  It is
the source of all art and science!

LADY POLLY. And homicide.  [The voices stop.]  Don't worry
about the world coming to an end today.

LADY MOLLY. [Completing her sentence.]  For it's already
tomorrow in Australia.  [Enter SIR DOLLY, fully undressed,
from behind the curtains, appearing very embarassed.  To
him.]   My kind sir, you must be aware to that the reason
lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place is that the
same place isn't there the second time.  [To LADY POLLY.]
Which is also why the same thought would never strike his
mind twice.

LADY POLLY. [To LADY MOLLY.]  Or even once.  But I would
never let my sense of morals get in the way of doing what's

SIR DOLLY. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.  [Hums
silently and covers himself with a few layers of the
expensive curtain.]  What do you ladies think of the Air
Force's intention to buy expensive new bombers?

LADY MOLLY. Why would they need new bombers?  [To LADY
POLLY.]  Have the people we've formerly been bombing over
the years been complaining?

SIR DOLLY. [Moving inconveniently towards the exit, thus
tearing the curtain apart.]  A billion here, a billion
there, pretty soon it adds up to real money.

LADY POLLY. [To LADY MOLLY.]  You couldn't say that
civilization doesn't advance.

LADY MOLLY. [To LADY POLLY.]  Surely, for in every war they
kill you in a new way.  [To SIR DOLLY, as he exits.]  Nobody
realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to
be normal.

LADY POLLY. As opposed to fanatics, who can't change their
minds and refuse to change the subject.  [Takes her friend's
hand in her both hands and smears on it various bathroom
lotions.]  The unreasonable man, my dear, is persistent in
trying to adapt the world to himself.  'Tis the reasonable
one who adapts himself to the world.

LADY MOLLY. Thus all progress depends on the unreasonable

[Enter LORD POLLY, leaving the two ladies unnoticed.]

LORD POLLY. [To himself.]  He who can, does.  He who
cannot, teaches.  [Pauses to think and remove his jacket.]
I like philosophy, it fascinates me.

LADY POLLY. You could sit and look at it for hours.

LORD POLLY. [Astonished at their presence, jumps aside as
if haunted by a mighty spirit, slips and falls on the small
wooden stool in the corner.] Imagination is the one weapon
in the war against reality.  I believe in looking reality
straight in the eye and denying it.

LADY POLLY. What good would it do if reality does not deny

LADY MOLLY. Everything you can imagine is real.  [To LADY
POLLY.]  I was thinking, dear, that there ought to be one
day, just one, when there is open season on senators.

LADY POLLY. Quit this gossip.  All the world's a cage.
[Pauses to ponder and then points at her husband
accusatively.]  My lord, is there intelligent life elsewhere
in the universe?

LORD POLLY. There surely is.  The surest sign of it is the
fact that it has never tried to contact us.



The deserted wooden hall with a door to the balcony now
visible.  It now appears slightly more modern, and there are
decorations on the walls including paintings, the ornaments
are re-arranged accurately and six high Viennese chairs
encompass a large rectangular table of ancient decorum above
which a large spotlight is positioned and visible to the
audience.  LORD MOLLY is seated on the sofa in the darker
corner, caressing his wife's sore neck.

LORD MOLLY. [Paying the paintings on the external wall a
spiteful glance.]  I never fathom those paintings.  Too much
art, too much Greek philosophy.

LADY MOLLY. [Pauses from reading a thick cooking book whose
title 'Caveat Emptor' is visible from afar.]  To think that
Aristotle maintained that women have fewer teeth than men.
I wonder what he based his claim on.

LORD MOLLY. [To himself.]  He has been twice married, and
apparently it never occurred to him to verify his statement
by examining his wives' mouths.  [To his wife.]  Maybe it
was for his wives.

LADY MOLLY. What wives?  [Waits for an answer but none
follows.  Appears to be calculating something in her heart.]
I learn that if the odds against there being a bomb on an
airplane are a million to one, then the odds of there being
two bombs on an airplane are a million times a million to

LORD MOLLY. [Mutters to himself, audible enough to be
heard.]  Thus the next time you fly, cut the odds and take a

LADY MOLLY. [Takes her eyes off the book and raises her
head.]  Sometimes I wonder whether you're truly a

LORD MOLLY. But I can even play the accordion.

LADY MOLLY. And you also do so.  True gentlemen don't.
[LORD MOLLY continues his massage, increasing the tempo,
until she nearly passes out.  Her head is stuck between the
pages of the book and she attempts to read like that.]
According to modern astronomers, space is finite.

LORD MOLLY. [Turns his wife around and plants a kiss on her
inner neck.]  This gives hope to people who can never
remember where they put things.

LADY MOLLY. But this is truly astonishing, darling.  Why
have you not become a scientist?

LORD MOLLY. [In a breeze of nostalgic thoughts, his head
turned to the side and his hands continuing to run amok on
his wife's torso.]  As an adolescent, I aspired to lasting
fame, I craved factual certainty, and I thirsted for a
meaningful vision of human life.  Becoming a scientist for
that is like becoming an archbishop to meet girls.

[Enter LADY POLLY, holding a tall silver ashtray filled with
freshly made lobsters.  LORD MOLLY and LADY MOLLY stand up
from their convenient lovemaking position.]

LADY POLLY. There are painters who transform the sun into a
yellow spot, but there are others who transform a yellow
spot into the sun.  [Approaches the couple and hands them
the ashtray.]  A lobster?

LORD MOLLY. Good to see you in health.

LADY POLLY. Honesty is a good thing, but it is not
profitable to its possessor unless it is kept under

LORD MOLLY. [To his wife.]  Is that to imply that by
speaking when you're angry you can make the best speech
you'll ever regret?

LADY MOLLY. [To her husband.]  No, that is to imply that
your true value depends entirely on many a factor.

LORD MOLLY. [To his wife.]  Such as the thing you are
compared with.  [To LADY POLLY.]  So do you think I'm the

LADY POLLY. Can you convince me otherwise?

LORD MOLLY. [Stretching his hands in front of him and
covering his groin area.]  How can I?

LADY POLLY. By being the next victim.  [Puts aside the
ashtray and appears to totally ignore the couple, moving
various articles hither and thither on the walls.]

LORD MOLLY. [To himself, rather abstractly.]  The first
principle you must remember in your investigations is that
you must not fool yourself.  And you are the easiest person
to fool.

LADY MOLLY. [To her husband.]  Truly, the report of your
death was a slight exaggeration.

LORD MOLLY. [To his wife.]  Yes.  And they certainly give
very strange names to diseases.

LADY POLLY. [Shouts loudly but apparently not directing her
speech to anyone.]  If all mankind but I were of one
opinion, then mankind is no more justified in silencing me
than the I, had I the power, would be justified in silencing
mankind.  [Throws a painting on the floor and crushes it to
a million pieces with her heels.  Faces LORD MOLLY and LADY
MOLLY again.]  Now, more than in any time in history,
mankind faces a crossroads.

LORD MOLLY. The one path leads to despair and utter

LADY MOLLY. [Thoughtfully.]  The other, to total

[Enter LORD POLLY, who has been listening to some of the
conversation from the balcony.]

LORD POLLY. [Walking towards the table.]  Let us pray that
we have the wisdom to choose correctly.  If we don't change
direction soon, we'll end up where we're going.

[They all sit and dine even though nothing appears to be
served on the table and no plates are visible.  They make
motions of chewing food and digesting it, and mutter to one
another how delicious the dinner is.  Exeunt.]


The bathroom, as before.  The lights are very dim and
silhouettes are barely visible.  LORD POLLY and LADY MOLLY
are sitting on the floor with their backs one to the other
while SIR DOLLY, wearing a pair of gray fur overalls, is
wandering about, drooling on the floor and making scary
werewolf-like gestures.

SIR DOLLY. If the world should blow itself up, the last
audible voice would be that of an expert saying it can't be
done.  I just hate life, I hate death, and everything in
between just merely doesn't approach nearly to interest me.
[Comes to a sudden halt just one step off the exit, looks
high up to the sky and smiles, then frowns and yells his
lungs out, stepping out carefully as if worried not to make
disturbing noise.]  A paranoid is someone who knows a little
of what's going on!  [Exit.]

LADY MOLLY. [Still with her back to him.]  It is truly
amazing what you can accomplish if you do not care who gets
the credit.

LORD POLLY. [Turns to her to stare at her motionless back.]
I've come to think that I am the only person on this planet
who can equally and impartially admire all schools of art.

LADY MOLLY. Well, granted that you don't imply that you're
a complete ignoramus, why would you come to think that
you're the only auctioneer on the face of this planet?

LORD POLLY. [Continues to speak, almost interrupting her
and making movements with his hand to infer that he is not
listening.]  The fascination of shooting as a sport depends
almost wholly on whether you're at the right end of a gun or
the wrong one.

LADY MOLLY. As to that, it is dangerous to be right when
the government is wrong.

[Enter SIR TOLLY, wearing a pearl-white toga, with his chest
hair clearly visible.  Approaches the seated couple and
removes a scroll from his abdomen level.]

LORD POLLY. What are you to seek here, good senator?

SIR TOLLY. I'm no senator, but as to that.  [Points at LADY
MOLLY who to the sound of his following words passes out and
remains so until the end.]  This woman has, earlier in this
work, implied that they need be shot.

LORD POLLY. [Lies down on the floor and stares at his feet
while talking.]  I've always considered that no degree of
dullness can safeguard a work against the determination of
critics to find it fascinating.  You know, good senator, God
made everything out of nothing, but the nothingness shines

SIR TOLLY. I've come to ask you a few questions by the name
of the Pan-American Committee of Justice, which you may have
come to know as the National Basketball Association.  [Reads
from his scroll.]  You are entitled to answer or refrain
from answering.  I hereby inform you that whatever you do,
your answers will not be used for any purpose whatsoever.
[Pauses to see what impression he has made, but LORD POLLY
continues to stare at his feet, appearing to be sleepy and
bored.]  What is the purpose of the denunciation of the
young, in your opinion?

LORD POLLY. It greatly assists in the circulation of my
blood.  I must ask you a question first.  Are you a true

SIR TOLLY. Yes, I am.  I believe that my country is better,
for after all, I have been born in it.  What about you?
Have you any principles that you live by?

LORD POLLY. It is easier to fight for them than live by

SIR TOLLY. What is an American to you?

LORD POLLY. I've not ever had the misfortune of meeting
one.  America, though, is a large dog in a very small room.
Only it's too friendly a dog, and by wagging its tail it
quite commonly knocks over some chairs and expensive vases.
[Pauses to attempt to bite SIR TOLLY in the thumbnails, but
he bears it with no wince.]  Also, the thing that impresses
me most about America is the way parents obey their

SIR TOLLY. [Thoughtfully.]  There was a time when we
expected nothing of our children but obedience, as opposed
to the present, when we expect of them anything but
obedience.  [Suddenly stops reading from the scroll,
appearing furious and confused.]  Have you any criticism of
the American consumptionist society therefore?!

LORD POLLY. Oh, definitely not.  What would we have done
without television?

SIR TOLLY. Bear that in mind while you're asking for new
sponsors for the Cartoon Network.  Besides, television is
wonderful.  Whenever anything important happens in the
world, day or night, you can always...

LORD POLLY. [Interrupts him, uninterested.]  Change the
channel, yes, I know.  And you also have speed-reading
courses in which, by reading 'War and Peace' in twenty
minutes, you become acquainted with the fact that it
involves Russia.

SIR TOLLY. [In an instructive tone.]  Dying, sir, is a
rather dull, dreary affair.  I strongly advise you not to
have anything to do with it.

LORD POLLY. Good advice is something a man gives when he is
too old to set a bad example.  [Enjoys his humor very much,
and apparently is slightly frightened by SIR TOLLY's
calmness.]  You know, I don't necessarily agree with
everything I say.  There's a difference between philosophy
and a bumper sticker.

SIR TOLLY. [To himself.]  There is nothing so absurd but
some philosopher has said it.  [Appearing relaxed, continues
with the scroll.]  What are the two ways of telling the
complete truth?

LORD POLLY. Anonymously and posthumously.

SIR TOLLY. [To himself.]  It is dangerous to be sincere,
unless you are also stupid.  [Continues to LORD POLLY.]  Can
you have everything you want?  [Adds quickly.]  You don't
have to be certain about your answer.

LORD POLLY. I certainly can't have it all.  Where would I
put it?

SIR TOLLY. Allow me to ask the questions.  If winning isn't
everything, why do they keep score?

LORD POLLY. For the same reason that poets have been
mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.

SIR TOLLY. [To himself, alertly.]  Write a wise saying and
your name will last forever, anonymous once said.  [To LORD
POLLY.]  Do you often quote?  [Takes out a machine-gun and
by the end of LORD POLLY's words, starts spraying the
roomful with bullets.  But even after this LADY POLLY does
not awake.]

LORD POLLY. [Remains calm and ignorant of the killer's
intentions.]  Only myself.  It adds spice to my
conversation.  [Dies.]



The very same scene as in the Prologue, with the sign's
reading modified to the same about Epilogue.

[Enter SIR TOLLY and stands in the circle, but the light
fades off, eventually to total darkness.]

SIR TOLLY. Education, friends, is a progressive discovery
of our own ignorance.  [Walks about and slowly takes off his
toga.]  It truly is the final proof of God's omnipotence
that he needs not exist in order to save us.


חוות דעת על היצירה באופן פומבי ויתכן שגם ישירות ליוצר

לשלוח את היצירה למישהו להדפיס את היצירה
היצירה לעיל הנה בדיונית וכל קשר בינה ובין
המציאות הנו מקרי בהחלט. אין צוות האתר ו/או
הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
"כוס עאמק!!!
תפסיקי כבר
לדגדג אותי או
שאני אירק לך על

- זין שקצת איבד
את העשתונות
למוצצת התורנית.

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בבמה מאז 30/3/02 9:57
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