Read The Early Ayn Rand Online
Authors: Ayn Rand
The Early Ayn Rand (41 page)
FANNY: We mustn’t let anyone in tonight. Any of those starving bums around here would be only too glad to turn you in for a—[
Her voice changes suddenly, strangely, as if the last word had dropped out accidentally
]—a reward.
Her voice changes suddenly, strangely, as if the last word had dropped out accidentally
]—a reward.
KAY GONDA: Do you realize what chance you are taking if they find me here?
FINK: They’ll get you out of here over my dead body.
KAY GONDA: You don’t know what danger . . .
FINK: We don’t have to know. We know what your work means to us. Don’t we, Fanny?
FANNY: [
She has been standing aside, lost in thought
] What?
She has been standing aside, lost in thought
] What?
FINK: We know what Miss Gonda’s work means to us, don’t we?
FANNY: [
In a flat voice
] Oh, yes . . . yes . . .
In a flat voice
] Oh, yes . . . yes . . .
KAY GONDA: [
Looking at
FINK
intently
] And that which means to you . . . you will not betray it?
Looking at
FINK
intently
] And that which means to you . . . you will not betray it?
FINK: One doesn’t betray the best in one’s soul.
KAY GONDA: No. One doesn’t.
FINK: [
Noticing
FANNY
’s abstraction
] Fanny!
Noticing
FANNY
’s abstraction
] Fanny!
FANNY: [
With a jerk
] Yes? What?
With a jerk
] Yes? What?
FINK: Will you tell Miss Gonda how we’ve always . . .
FANNY: Miss Gonda must be tired. We should really allow her to go to bed.
KAY GONDA: Yes. I am very tired.
FANNY: [
With brisk energy
] You can have our bedroom. . . . Oh, yes, please don’t protest. We’ll be very comfortable here, on the couch. We’ll stay here on guard, so that no one will try to enter.
With brisk energy
] You can have our bedroom. . . . Oh, yes, please don’t protest. We’ll be very comfortable here, on the couch. We’ll stay here on guard, so that no one will try to enter.
KAY GONDA: [
Rising
] It is very kind of you.
Rising
] It is very kind of you.
FANNY: [
Taking the lamp
] Please excuse this inconvenience. We’re having a little trouble with our electricity. [
Leading the way to the bedroom
] This way, please. You’ll be comfortable and safe.
Taking the lamp
] Please excuse this inconvenience. We’re having a little trouble with our electricity. [
Leading the way to the bedroom
] This way, please. You’ll be comfortable and safe.
FINK: Good night, Miss Gonda. Don’t worry. We’ll stand by you.
KAY GONDA: Thank you. Good night. [
She exits with
FANNY
into the bedroom.
FINK
lifts the window shade. A broad band of moonlight falls across the room. He starts clearing the couch of its load of junk.
FANNY
returns into the room, closing the door behind her
]
She exits with
FANNY
into the bedroom.
FINK
lifts the window shade. A broad band of moonlight falls across the room. He starts clearing the couch of its load of junk.
FANNY
returns into the room, closing the door behind her
]
FANNY: [
In a low voice
] Well, what do you think of that? [
He stretches his arms wide, shrugging
] And they say miracles don’t happen!
In a low voice
] Well, what do you think of that? [
He stretches his arms wide, shrugging
] And they say miracles don’t happen!
FINK: We’d better keep quiet. She may hear us. . . . [
The band of light goes out in the crack of the bedroom door
] How about the packing?
The band of light goes out in the crack of the bedroom door
] How about the packing?
FANNY: Never mind the packing now. [
He fishes for sheets and blankets in the cartons, throwing their contents out again.
FANNY
stands aside, by the window, watching him silently. Then, in a low voice
:] Chuck . . .
He fishes for sheets and blankets in the cartons, throwing their contents out again.
FANNY
stands aside, by the window, watching him silently. Then, in a low voice
:] Chuck . . .
FINK: Yes?
FANNY: In a few days, I’m going on trial. Me and eleven of the kids.
FINK: [
Looking at her, surprised
] Yeah.
Looking at her, surprised
] Yeah.
FANNY: It’s no use fooling ourselves. They’ll send us all up.
FINK: I know they will.
FANNY: Unless we can get money to fight it.
FINK: Yeah. But we can’t. No use thinking about it. [
A short silence. He continues with his work
]
A short silence. He continues with his work
]
FANNY: [
In a whisper
] Chuck . . . do you think she can hear us?
In a whisper
] Chuck . . . do you think she can hear us?
FINK: [
Looking at the bedroom door
] No.
Looking at the bedroom door
] No.
FANNY: It’s a murder that she’s committed.
FINK: Yeah.
FANNY: It’s a millionaire that she’s killed.
FINK: Right.
FANNY: I suppose his family would like to know where she is.
FINK: [
Raising his head, looking at her
] What are you talking about?
Raising his head, looking at her
] What are you talking about?
FANNY: I was thinking that if his family were told where she’s hiding, they’d be glad to pay a reward.
FINK: [
Stepping menacingly toward her
] You lousy . . . what are you trying to . . .
Stepping menacingly toward her
] You lousy . . . what are you trying to . . .
FANNY: [
Without moving
] Five thousand dollars, probably.
Without moving
] Five thousand dollars, probably.
FINK: [
Stopping
] Huh?
Stopping
] Huh?
FANNY: Five thousand dollars, probably.
FINK: You lousy bitch! Shut up before I kill you! [
Silence. He starts to undress. Then:
] Fanny . . .
Silence. He starts to undress. Then:
] Fanny . . .
FANNY: Yes?
FINK: Think they’d—hand over five thousand?
FANNY: Sure they would. People pay more than that for ordinary kidnappers.
FINK: Oh, shut up! [
Silence. He continues to undress
]
Silence. He continues to undress
]
FANNY: It’s jail for me, Chuck. Months, maybe years in jail.
FINK: Yeah . . .
FANNY: And for the others, too. Bud, and Pinky, and Mary, and the rest. Your friends. Your comrades. [
He stops his undressing
] You need them. The cause needs them. Twelve of our vanguard.
He stops his undressing
] You need them. The cause needs them. Twelve of our vanguard.
FINK: Yes . . .
FANNY: With five thousand, we’d get the best lawyer from New York. He’d beat the case. . . . And we wouldn’t have to move out of here. We wouldn’t have to worry. You could continue your great work . . . [
He does not answer
] Think of all the poor and helpless who need you. . . . [
He does not answer
] Think of twelve human beings you’re sending to jail . . . twelve to one, Chuck. . . . [
He does not answer
] Think of your duty to millions of your brothers. Millions to one. [
Silence
]
He does not answer
] Think of all the poor and helpless who need you. . . . [
He does not answer
] Think of twelve human beings you’re sending to jail . . . twelve to one, Chuck. . . . [
He does not answer
] Think of your duty to millions of your brothers. Millions to one. [
Silence
]
FINK: Fanny . . .
FANNY: Yes?
FINK: How would we go about it?
FANNY: Easy. We get out while she’s asleep. We run to the police station. Come back with the cops. Easy.
FINK: What if she hears?
FANNY: She won’t hear. But we got to hurry. [
She moves to the door. He stops her
]
She moves to the door. He stops her
]
FINK: [
In a whisper
] She’ll hear the door opening. [
Points to the open window
] This way. . . .
In a whisper
] She’ll hear the door opening. [
Points to the open window
] This way. . . .
[
They slip out through the window. The room is empty for a brief moment. Then the bedroom door opens.
They slip out through the window. The room is empty for a brief moment. Then the bedroom door opens.
KAY GONDA
stands on the threshold. She stands still for a moment, then walks across the room to the entrance door and goes out, leaving the door open
]
stands on the threshold. She stands still for a moment, then walks across the room to the entrance door and goes out, leaving the door open
]
CURTAIN
SCENE 3
The screen unrolls a letter written in a bold, aggressive handwriting:
Dear Miss Gonda,
I am an unknown artist. But I know to what heights I shall rise, for I carry a sacred banner which cannot fail—and which is you. I have painted nothing that was not you. You stand as a goddess on every canvas I’ve done. I have never seen you in person. I do not need to. I can draw your face with my eyes closed. For my spirit is but a mirror of yours.
Someday you shall hear men speak of me. Until then, this is only a first tribute from your devoted priest—
Dwight Langley
. . . Normandie Avenue
Los Angeles, California
. . . Normandie Avenue
Los Angeles, California
Lights go out, screen disappears, and stage reveals studio of
DWIGHT LANGLEY
. It is a large room, flashy, dramatic, and disreputable. Center back, large window showing the dark sky and the shadows of treetops; entrance door center Left; door into next room upstage Right. A profusion of paintings and sketches on the walls, on the easels, on the floor; all are of
KAY GONDA
; heads, full figures, in modern clothes, in flowering drapes, naked.
DWIGHT LANGLEY
. It is a large room, flashy, dramatic, and disreputable. Center back, large window showing the dark sky and the shadows of treetops; entrance door center Left; door into next room upstage Right. A profusion of paintings and sketches on the walls, on the easels, on the floor; all are of
KAY GONDA
; heads, full figures, in modern clothes, in flowering drapes, naked.
A mongrel assortment of strange types fills the room: men and women in all kinds of outfits, from tails and evening gowns to beach pajamas and slacks, none too prosperous-looking, all having one attribute in common—a glass in hand—and all showing signs of its effect.
DWIGHT LANGLEY
lies stretched in the middle of a couch; he is young, with a tense, handsome, sunburnt face, dark, disheveled hair, and a haughty, irresistible smile.
EUNICE HAMMOND
keeps apart from the guests, her eyes returning constantly, anxiously, to
LANGLEY
; she is a beautiful young girl, quiet, reticent, dressed in a smart, simple dark dress obviously more expensive than any garment in the room.
lies stretched in the middle of a couch; he is young, with a tense, handsome, sunburnt face, dark, disheveled hair, and a haughty, irresistible smile.
EUNICE HAMMOND
keeps apart from the guests, her eyes returning constantly, anxiously, to
LANGLEY
; she is a beautiful young girl, quiet, reticent, dressed in a smart, simple dark dress obviously more expensive than any garment in the room.
As the curtain rises, the guests are lifting their glasses in a grand toast to
LANGLEY
, their voices piercing the raucous music coming over the radio.
LANGLEY
, their voices piercing the raucous music coming over the radio.
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: Here’s to Lanny!
MAN IN SWEATER: To Dwight Langley of California!
WOMAN IN EVENING GOWN: To the winner and the best of us—from the cheerful losers!
TRAGIC GENTLEMAN: To the greatest artist ever lived!
LANGLEY: [
Rising, waving his hand curtly
] Thanks.
Rising, waving his hand curtly
] Thanks.
[ALL
drink. Someone drops a glass, breaking it resonantly. As
LANGLEY
steps aside from the others,
EUNICE
approaches him
]
drink. Someone drops a glass, breaking it resonantly. As
LANGLEY
steps aside from the others,
EUNICE
approaches him
]
EUNICE: [
Extending her glass to his, whispers softly
] To the day we’ve dreamed of for such a long time, dear.
Extending her glass to his, whispers softly
] To the day we’ve dreamed of for such a long time, dear.
LANGLEY: [
Turning to her indifferently
] Oh . . . oh, yes . . . [
Clinks glass to hers automatically, without looking at her
]
Turning to her indifferently
] Oh . . . oh, yes . . . [
Clinks glass to hers automatically, without looking at her
]
WOMAN IN SLACKS: [
Calling to her
] No monopoly on him, Eunice. Not anymore. From now on—Dwight Langley belongs to the world!
Calling to her
] No monopoly on him, Eunice. Not anymore. From now on—Dwight Langley belongs to the world!
WOMAN IN EVENING GOWN: Well, not that I mean to minimize Lanny’s triumph, but I must say that for the greatest exhibition of the decade, it was rather a fizz, wasn’t it? Two or three canvases with some idea of something, but the rest of the trash people have the nerve to exhibit these days . . .
EFFEMINATE YOUNG MAN: Dear me! It is positively preposterous!
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: But Lanny beat them all! First prize of the decade!
LANGLEY: [
With no trace of modesty
] Did it surprise you?
With no trace of modesty
] Did it surprise you?
TRAGIC GENTLEMAN: Because Lanny’s a geniush!
EFFEMINATE YOUNG MAN: Oh, my yes! Positively a genius!
[LANGLEY
walks over to a sideboard to refill his glass.
EUNICE
, standing beside him, slips her hand over his
]
walks over to a sideboard to refill his glass.
EUNICE
, standing beside him, slips her hand over his
]
EUNICE: [
In a low voice, tenderly
] Dwight, I haven’t had a moment with you to congratulate you. And I do want to say it tonight. I’m too happy, too proud of you to know how to say it, but I want you to understand . . . my dearest . . . how much it means to me.
In a low voice, tenderly
] Dwight, I haven’t had a moment with you to congratulate you. And I do want to say it tonight. I’m too happy, too proud of you to know how to say it, but I want you to understand . . . my dearest . . . how much it means to me.
LANGLEY: [
Jerking his hand away, indifferently
] Thanks.
Jerking his hand away, indifferently
] Thanks.
EUNICE: I can’t help thinking of the years past. Remember, how discouraged you were at times, and I talked to you about your future, and . . .
LANGLEY: You don’t have to bring that up now, do you?
EUNICE: [
Trying to laugh
] I shouldn’t. I know. Utterly bad form. [
Breaking down involuntarily
] But I can’t help it. I love you.
Trying to laugh
] I shouldn’t. I know. Utterly bad form. [
Breaking down involuntarily
] But I can’t help it. I love you.
LANGLEY: I know it. [
Walks away from her
]
Walks away from her
]
BLOND GIRL: [
Sitting on the couch, next to the woman in slacks
] Come here, Lanny! Hasn’t anyone got a chance with a real genius?
Sitting on the couch, next to the woman in slacks
] Come here, Lanny! Hasn’t anyone got a chance with a real genius?
LANGLEY: [
Flopping down on the couch, between the two girls
] Hello.
Flopping down on the couch, between the two girls
] Hello.
WOMAN IN SLACKS: [
Throwing her arms around his shoulders
] Langley, I can’t get over that canvas of yours. I still see it as it hung there tonight. The damn thing haunts me.
Throwing her arms around his shoulders
] Langley, I can’t get over that canvas of yours. I still see it as it hung there tonight. The damn thing haunts me.
LANGLEY: [
Patronizingly
] Like it?
Patronizingly
] Like it?
WOMAN IN SLACKS: Love it. You do get the damnedest titles, though. What was it called? Hope, faith, or charity? No. Wait a moment. Liberty, equality, or . . .
LANGLEY:
Integrity.
Integrity.
WOMAN IN SLACKS: That’s it. “Integrity.” Just what did you really mean by it, darling?
LANGLEY: Don’t try to understand.
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: But the woman! The woman in your painting, Langley! Ah, that, my friend, is a masterpiece!
WOMAN IN SLACKS: That white face. And those eyes. Those eyes that look straight through you!
WOMAN IN EVENING GOWN: You know, of course, who she is?
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: Kay Gonda, as usual.
MAN IN SWEATSHIRT: Say, Lanny, will you ever paint any other female? Why do you always have to stick to that one?
LANGLEY: An artist
tells.
He does not
explain.
tells.
He does not
explain.
WOMAN IN SLACKS: You know, there’s something damn funny about Gonda and that Sayers affair.
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: I bet she did it all right. Wouldn’t put it past her.
EFFEMINATE YOUNG MAN: Imagine Kay Gonda being hanged! The blond hair and the black hood and the noose. My, it would be
perfectly
thrilling!
perfectly
thrilling!
WOMAN IN EVENING GOWN: There’s a new theme for you, Lanny. “Kay Gonda on the Gallows.”
LANGLEY: [
Furiously
] Shut up, all of you! She didn’t do it! I won’t have you discussing her in my house!
Furiously
] Shut up, all of you! She didn’t do it! I won’t have you discussing her in my house!
[
The guests subside for a brief moment
]
The guests subside for a brief moment
]
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: Wonder how much Sayers actually left.
WOMAN IN SLACKS: The papers said he was just coming into a swell setup. A deal with United California Oil or some such big-time stuff. But I guess it’s off now.
MAN IN SWEATER: No, the evening papers said his sister is rushing the deal through.
WOMAN IN EVENING GOWN: But what’re the police doing? Have they issued any warrants?
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: Nobody knows.
WOMAN IN EVENING GOWN: Damn funny. . . .
MAN IN SWEATER: Say, Eunice, any more drinks left in this house? No use asking Lanny. He never knows where anything is.
MAN IN DRESS SUIT: [
Throwing his arm around
EUNICE] The greatest little mother-sister-and-all-the-rest combination an artist ever had!”
Throwing his arm around
EUNICE] The greatest little mother-sister-and-all-the-rest combination an artist ever had!”
[EUNICE
disengages herself, not too brusquely, but obviously displeased
]
disengages herself, not too brusquely, but obviously displeased
]
EFFEMINATE YOUNG MAN: Do you know that Eunice darns his socks? Oh, my, yes! I’ve seen a pair. Positively the cutest things!
MAN IN SWEATER: The woman behind the throne! The woman who guided his footsteps, washed his shirts, and kept up his courage in his dark years of struggle.
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