The Magic Tower and Other One-Act Plays by Tennessee Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

[
smiling
]: Perhaps I expressed myself a little awkwardly.
    VASHYA : You meant it as a compliment?
    DR. FRELICH : Of course.
    VASHYA : So many people have been paying me left-handed compliments lately that I’ve become a little suspicious. Only the otherday a young man jumped on the running board of my car in front of the palace and shouted something about me, Vashya Shontine, being the—butcher of the world!
    DR. FRELICH : Good—heavens !
    VASHYA : He spoke my own native language. I think that’s what hurt me most. Being insulted by a man of my own country— [
Hastily
.] I mean, you see, a man of my NATIVE country. Of course I consider myself a citizen of THIS country now.
    DR. FRELICH : Yes, of course, and one or our best citizens, Sir Vashya.
    VASHYA : Thank you.
    DR. FRELICH : And what did you say became of the young man?
    VASHYA : What young man?
    DR. FRELICH : The one who insulted you in front of the palace.
    VASHYA : Him? I understand they dealt with him rather harshly. [
He smiles
.] He was executed that very evening in a manner in which I would prefer not to be executed!
    DR. FRELICH [
a slight pause
]: Splendid!
    VASHYA [
bitterly
]: Yes, he had the effrontery to call me a dirty butcher, me, Vashya Shon—Excuse me, Doctor, I’ve gotten a little bit off the track of what I wanted to see you about.
    DR. FRELICH : Yes. Your wife.
    VASHYA : My poor wife. Yes.
    DR. FRELICH : Suppose you tell me everything from the beginning. The history of such cases is very important. Your relationship, Sir Vashya, has that been always—satisfactory ?
    VASHYA : I love my wife, Dr. Frelich.
    DR. FRELICH : Yes.
    VASHYA : Very dearly. Everything I have done, Doctor, was done forher, that she should admire me. She was like, you see, a young lady that I once knew, a very proud young lady who of course would have nothing to do with me, Vashya, a common peasant who roasted his naked back pitching wheat on her father’s land— And I swore to myself that someday I’d have me a woman like that for my wife!— You see?
    DR. FRELICH : Yes. I see.
    VASHYA : And I did! I set to work very hard and I worked my way up. From the bottom. Acquired wealth and prestige. Importance. Power. Yes! You see? —She married me . . .
    DR. FRELICH : And you were satisfied?
    VASHYA : Never quite satisfied. [
Pause
.] I had to work harder all the time and get more to make her respect me. I think she did respect me, Doctor, but she never saw things in quite my way—and when the war started, these strange ideas about me began to take hold of her and she became . . .
    DR. FRELICH : Cold to you?
    VASHYA : Yes, colder and colder! And now to see her completely turned against me like this! You can understand how I feel.
    DR. FRELICH : Yes, I can appreciate your grief, Sir Vashya.
    VASHYA : My—? Yes, my grief! [
Almost inaudibly
.] Her little blue violet eyes, Doctor—Excuse me!—To see them looking at me like this! So—hatefully ! It’s an almost insupportable grief!
    DR. FRELICH : Hmmmm. It’s plain to see you’re a man of genuine sentiment.
    VASHYA [
pleased
]: Sentiment! Yes! I’m really a man of— [
A little suspiciously
.] What did you call it?
    DR. FRELICH [
earnestly
]: Genuine sentiment.
    VASHYA : Yes, yes, I am! I wouldn’t admit that to everyone, but nevertheless it’s perfectly true.
    DR. FRELICH : I don’t for one moment doubt it.
    VASHYA : Have a cigar!
    DR. FRELICH : Thanks.
    VASHYA : They’re fine cigars. The best obtainable at any price. Hmmm. You think you can help her, Doctor?
    DR. FRELICH : These things are sometimes quite transitory.
    VASHYA : Yes, I think she cares for me, Doctor. There used to be . . . a great passion between us! [
Pause
.] But an—an unfortunate thing happened. . . . There was a young man. . . .
    DR. FRELICH : Yes?
    VASHYA : He was a radical, a pacifist, a young poet and all that stuff!
    DR. FRELICH [
understandingly
]: I see. One of these impractical dreamers that women find so unaccountably