Ideal (19 page)

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Authors: Ayn Rand

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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 SUI
T
: 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!

WO
MAN IN EVENING GOWN
: You know, of course, who she is?

MAN IN DRESS SUIT
: Kay Gonda, as usual.

MA
N IN SWEATSHIRT
: Say, Lanny, will you ever paint any other female? Why do you always have to stick to that one?

LANG
LEY
: An artist
tells.
He does not
explain.

WOMAN IN SLAC
KS
: 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!

WOMAN IN EV
ENING 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!

[
The guests subside for a brief moment
]

MAN IN DRESS S
UIT
: 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 EVE
NING GOWN
: But what're the police doing? Have they issued any warrants?

MAN IN DRE
SS SUIT
: Nobody knows.

WOMAN IN EVE
NING GOWN
: Damn funny . . .

MAN IN SWE
ATER
: Say, Eunice, any more drinks left in this house? No use asking Lanny. He never knows where anything is.

MAN IN DRESS SU
IT
: [
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
]

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.

WOMAN IN EVENING GOWN
: [
To the
WOMAN IN SLACKS
, in a low voice
] Kept up his courage—and his bank account.

WO
MAN IN SLACKS
: No. Really?

WOMAN
IN EVENING GOWN
: My dear, it's no secret. Where do you
suppose the money came from for the “dark years of struggle”? The Hammond millions. Not that old man Hammond didn't kick her out of the house. He did. But she had some money of her own.

EFFE
MINATE YOUNG MAN
: Oh, my, yes. The Social Register dropped her, too. But she didn't care one bit, not one bit.

MAN
IN SWEATER
: [
To
EUNICE
] How about it, Eunice? Where are the drinks?

EUNICE
: [
Hesitating
] I'm afraid . . .

LANGLEY
: [
Rising
] She's afraid she doesn't approve. But we're going to drink whether she approves of it or not. [
Searches through the cupboards frantically
]

WOMAN IN SL
ACKS
: Really, folks, it's getting late and . . .

MAN IN DRESS SU
IT
: Oh, just one more drink, and we'll all toddle home.

LANGLEY
: Hey, Eunice, where's the gin?

EUNICE
: [
Opening a cabinet and producing two bottles, quietly
] Here.

MAN IN SWEATER
: Hurrah! Wait for baby!

[
There is a general rush to the bottles
]

MAN IN DR
ESS SUIT
: Just one last drink and we'll scram. Hey, everybody! Another toast. To Dwight Langley and Eunice Hammond!

EUNICE
: To Dwight Langley and his future!

[
All roar approval and drink
]

E
VERYONE
: [
Roaring at once
] Speech, Lanny! . . . Yes! . . . Come on, Lanny! . . . Speech! . . . Come on!

LANGLEY
: [
Climbs up on a chair, stands a little unsteadily, speaks with a
kind of tortured sincerity
] The bitterest moment of an artist's life is the moment of his triumph. The artist is but a bugle calling to a battle no one wants to fight. The world does not see and does not want to see. The artist begs men to throw the doors of their lives open to grandeur and beauty, but those doors will remain closed forever . . . forever . . . [
Is about to
add something, but drops his hand in a gesture of hopelessness and ends in a tone of quiet sadness
] . . . forever. . . . [
Applause. The general noise is cut short by a knock at the door.
LANGLEY
jumps off his chair
] Come in!

[
The door opens, disclosing an irate
LANDLADY
in a soiled Chinese kimono
]

LANDLAD
Y
: [
In a shrill whine
] Mr. Langley, this noise will have to stop! Don't you know what time it is?

LANGLEY
: Get out of here!

LANDLADY
: The lady in 315 says she'll call the police! The gentleman in . . .

LANGLEY
: You heard me! Get out! Think I have to stay in a lousy dump like this?

EUNICE
: Dwight! [
To
LAND
LADY
] We'll keep quiet, Mrs. Johnson.

LANDLADY
: Well, you'd better! [
She exits angrily
]

EUNI
CE
: Really, Dwight, we shouldn't . . .

LANGLEY
: Oh, leave me alone! No one's going to tell
me
what to do from now on!

EUNICE
: But I only . . .

LANGLEY
: You're turning into a damnable, nagging, middle-class female!

[
EUNICE
stares at him, frozen
]

WOMAN IN S
LACKS
: Going a bit too far, Langley!

LANGLEY
: I'm sick and tired of people who can't outgrow their possessiveness! You know the hypocritical trick—the chains of
gratitude
!

EUNI
CE
: Dwight! You don't think that I . . .

LANGLEY
: I know damn well what
you
think! Think you've bought me, don't you? Think you own me for the rest of my life in exchange for some grocery bills?

EUNICE
: What did you say? [
Screaming suddenly
] I didn't hear you right!

MAN IN SWEATER
: Look here, Langley, take it easy. You don't know what you're saying, you're . . .

LAN
GLEY
: [
Pushing him aside
] Go to hell! You can all go to hell if you don't like it! [
To
EUNICE
] And as for you . . .

EUNIC
E
: Dwight . . . please . . . not now . . .

LANGLEY
: Yes! Right here and now! I want them all to hear! [
To the guests
] So you think I can't get along without her? I'll show you! I'm through! [
To
EUNICE
] Do you hear that? I'm through! [
EUNICE
stands motionless
] I'm free! I'm going to rise in the world! I'm going places none of you ever dreamt of! I'm ready to meet the only woman I've ever wanted—Kay Gonda! I've waited all these years for the day when I would meet her! That's all I've lived for! And no one's going to stand in my way!

EUNICE
: [
She walks to door Left, picks up her hat and coat from a pile of clothing in a corner, turns to him again, quietly
] Good-bye, Dwight . . . [
Exits
]

[
There is a second of strained silence in the room: the
WOMAN IN SL
ACKS
is the first one to move; she goes to pick up her coat, then turns to
LANGLEY
]

WOMAN
IN SLACKS
: I thought you had just done a painting called
Integrity
.

LANGLEY
: If that was intended for a dirty crack . . . [
The
WOMAN IN SLACKS
exits, slamming the door
] Well, go to hell! [
To the others
] Get out of here! All of you! Get out!

[
There is a general shuffle for hats and coats
]

WOMAN IN EVE
NING GOWN
: Well, if we're being kicked out . . .

MAN IN DRE
SS SUIT
: That's all right. Lanny's a bit upset.

LANGLEY
: [
Somewhat gentler
] I'm sorry. I thank you all. But I want to be alone. [
The guests are leaving, waving halfhearted good-byes
]

BLOND GIRL
: [
She is one of the last to leave. She hesitates, whispering tentatively
:] Lanny . . .

LANGLEY
: Out! All of you! [
She exits. The stage is empty but for
LAN
GLEY
surveying dazedly the havoc of his studio. There is a knock at the door
] Out, I said! Don't want any of you! [
The knock is repeated. He walks to the door, throws it open.
KAY GONDA
enters. She stands looking at him without a word. He asks impatiently
:] Well? [
She does not answer
] What do you want?

KAY GONDA
: Are you Dwight Langley?

LANGLEY
: Yes.

KAY GONDA
: I need your help.

LANGLEY
: What's the matter?

KAY GONDA
: Don't you know?

LAN
GLEY
: How should I know? Just who are you?

KAY GONDA
: [
After a pause
] Kay Gonda.

LAN
GLEY
: [
Looks at her and bursts out laughing
] So? Not Helen of Troy? Nor Madame Du Barry? [
She looks at him silently
] Come on, out with it. What's the gag?

KAY GONDA
: Don't you know me?

LANGLEY
: [
Looks her over contemptuously, his hands in his pockets, grinning
] Well, you do look like Kay Gonda. So does her stand-in. So do dozens of extra girls in Hollywood. What is it you're after? I can't get you into pictures, my girl. I'm not even the kind to promise you a screen test. Drop the racket. Who are you?

KAY GONDA
: Don't you understand? I am in danger. I have to hide. Please let me stay here for the night.

LA
NGLEY
: What do you think this is? A flophouse?

KAY GONDA
: I have no place to go.

LANG
LEY
: That's an old one in Hollywood.

KAY GONDA
: They will not look for me here.

LANGLE
Y
: Who?

KAY GONDA
: The police.

LANGLEY
: Really? And why would Kay Gonda pick my house to hide in of all places? [
She starts to open her handbag, but closes it again and says nothing
] How do I know you're Kay Gonda? Have you any proof?

KAY GONDA
: None, but the honesty of your vision.

LANGLEY
: Oh, cut the tripe! What are you after? Taking me for a . . . [
There is a loud knock at the door
] What's this? A frame-up? [
Walks to door and throws it open. A uniformed
POLICEMAN
enters.
KAY GO
NDA
turns away quickly, her back to the others
]

POLICEMAN
: [
Good-naturedly
] Evening. [
Looking about him, helplessly
] Where's the drunken party we got a complaint about?

LANGLEY
: Of all the nerve! There's no party, Officer. I had a few friends here, but they left long ago.

POLICEMAN
: [
Looking at
K
AY GONDA
with some curiosity
] Between you and me, it's a lotta cranks that call up complaining about noise. As I see it, there's no harm in young people having a little fun.

LANGLEY
: [
Watching curiously the
POLICEMAN
's reaction to
KAY GONDA
] We really weren't disturbing anyone. I'm sure there's nothing you want here,
is there,
Officer?

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