DRIVER
I think I’ve fallen in love. For the first time in my life.
CONTROLLER
Who have you fallen in love with?
DRIVER
With this girl on the back seat. I think I’m going to keep her for the rest of my life. I’m going to stay in this car with her for the rest of my life. I’m going to marry her in this car. We’ll die together in this car.
Pause.
CONTROLLER
So you’ve found true love at last, eh, 274?
DRIVER
Yes. I’ve found true love at last.
CONTROLLER
So you’re a happy man now then, are you?
DRIVER
I’m very happy. I’ve never known such happiness.
CONTROLLER
Well, I’d like to be the first to congratulate you, 274. I’d like to extend my sincere felicitations to you.
DRIVER
Thank you very much.
CONTROLLER
Don’t mention it. I’ll have to make a note in my diary not to forget your Golden Wedding, won’t I? I’ll bring along some of the boys to drink your health. Yes, I’ll bring along some of the boys. We’ll all have a few jars and a bit of a sing-song.
Pause.
274?
Pause.
DRIVER
Hullo. Yes. It’s me.
CONTROLLER
Listen. I’ve been thinking. I’ve decided that what I’d like to do now is to come down there and shake you by the hand straightaway. I’m going to shut this little office and I’m going to jump into my old car and I’m going to pop down to see you, to shake you by the hand. All right?
DRIVER
Fine. But what about this man coming off the train at Victoria Station – the 10.22 from Boulogne?
CONTROLLER
He can go and fuck himself.
DRIVER
I see.
CONTROLLER
No, I’d like to meet your lady friend, you see. And we can have a nice celebration. Can’t we? So just stay where you are. Right?
Pause.
Right?
Pause.
274?
DRIVER
Yes?
CONTROLLER
Don’t move. Stay exactly where you are. I’ll be right with you.
DRIVER
No, I won’t move.
Silence.
I’ll be here.
Light out in office.
The DRIVER sits still.
Light out in car.
PRECISELY
Precisely was first performed in The Big One at the Apollo Theatre, London, on 18 December 1983. The cast was as follows:
STEPHEN Barry Foster
ROGER Martin Jarvis
Directed by Harold Pinter
Two men at a table with drinks.
Silence.
STEPHEN
I mean, we’ve said it time and time again, haven’t we?
ROGER
Of course we have.
STEPHEN
Time and time again. Twenty million. That’s what we’ve said. Time and time again. It’s a figure supported by facts. We’ve done our homework. Twenty million is a fact. When these people say thirty I’ll tell you exactly what they’re doing – they’re distorting the facts.
ROGER
Scandalous.
STEPHEN
Quite. I mean, how the hell do they know?
ROGER
Quite.
STEPHEN
We’ve done the thinking.
ROGER
Quite.
STEPHEN
That’s what we’re paid for.
ROGER
Paid a bloody lot too.
STEPHEN
Exactly. Good money for good brains.
They drink.
Thirty million! I mean …!
ROGER
Exactly.
STEPHEN
I’ll tell you, neither I nor those above me are going to put up with it much longer. These people, Roger, these people are actively and wilfully deceiving the public. Do you take my point?
ROGER
I’d put the bastards up against a wall and shoot them.
STEPHEN
As a matter of fact, I’ve got a committee being set up to discuss that very thing.
ROGER
They drink.
Actually … I’ve heard that they’re talking about forty million.
STEPHEN
What!
ROGER
And one or two of them … have taken it even further.
STEPHEN
What do you mean?
ROGER
Oh … you know … fifty … sixty … seventy …
STEPHEN
But that’s almost the whole population!
ROGER
I know.
STEPHEN
Well I’m buggered.
ROGER
It’s a bit of a bloody cheek, isn’t it, Stephen?
STEPHEN
It’s more than a bloody cheek, Roger.
ROGER
Indeed.
Pause.
STEPHEN
You know what I’m going to recommend we do with these people?
ROGER
What?
STEPHEN
I’m going to recommend that they be hung, drawn and quartered. I want to see the colour of their entrails.
ROGER
Same colour as the Red Flag, old boy.
STEPHEN
Quite.
They drink.
You see, what makes this whole business doubly disgusting is that the citizens of this country are behind us. They’re ready to go with us on the twenty million basis. They’re perfectly happy! And what are they faced with from these bastards? A deliberate attempt to subvert and undermine their security. And their faith.
ROGER drinks and then looks at Stephen.
ROGER
Give me another two, Stephen.
STEPHEN stares at him.
STEPHEN
Another two?
ROGER
Another two million. And I’ll buy you another drink. Another two for another drink.
STEPHEN
(Slowly) No, no, Roger. It’s twenty million. Dead.
ROGER
You mean precisely?
STEPHEN
I mean dead. Precisely.
Pause.
I want you to accept that figure.
Pause.
Accept the figure.
They stare at each other.
ROGER
Twenty million dead, precisely?
STEPHEN
Precisely.
ONE FOR THE ROAD
One for the Road was first performed at the Lyric Theatre Studio, Hammersmith, in March 1984, with the following cast:
NICOLAS mid 40s Alan Bates
VICTOR 30 Roger Lloyd Pack
GILA 30 Jenny Quayle
NICKY 7 Stephen Kember and Felix Yates
Directed by Harold Pinter
It was subsequently presented as part of the triple bill, Other Places, at the Duchess Theatre, London, on 7 March 1985, with the following cast:
NICOLAS Colin Blakely
VICTOR Roger Davidson
GILA Rosie Kerslake
NICKY Daniel Kipling and Simon Vyvyan
Directed by Kenneth Ives
NICOLAS at his desk. He leans forward and speaks into a machine.
NICOLAS
Bring him in.
He sits back. The door opens. VICTOR walks in, slowly. His clothes are torn. He is bruised. The door closes behind him.
Hello! Good morning. How are you? Let’s not beat about the bush. Anything but that. D’accord? You’re a civilised man, So am I. Sit down.
VICTOR slowly sits. NICOLAS stands, walks over to him.
What do you think this is? It’s my finger. And this is my little finger. This is my big finger and this is m
y little finger. I wave my big finger in front of your eyes. Like this. And now I do the same with my little finger. I can also use both … at the same time. Like this. I can do absolutely anything I like. Do you think I’m mad? My mother did.
He laughs.
Do you think waving fingers in front of people’s eyes is silly? I can see your point. You’re a man of the highest intelligence. But would you take the same view if it was my boot – or my penis? Why am I so obsessed with eyes? Am I obsessed with eyes? Possibly. Not my eyes. Other people’s eyes. The eyes of people who are brought to me here. They’re so vulnerable. The soul shines through them. Are you a religious man? I am. Which side do you think God is on? I’m going to have a drink.
He goes to sideboard, pours whisky.
You’re probably wondering where your wife is. She’s in another room.
He drinks.
Good-looking woman.
He drinks.
God, that was good.
He pours another.
Don’t worry, I can hold my booze.
He drinks.
Pause.
Stand up.
VICTOR stands.
Sit down.
VICTOR sits.
Thank you so much.
Pause.
Tell me something …
Silence.
What a good-looking woman your wife is. You’re a very lucky man. Tell me … one for the road, I think …
He pours whisky.
You do respect me, I take it?
He stands in front of VICTOR and looks down at him. VICTOR looks up.
I would be right in assuming that?
Silence.
VICTOR
(Quietly) I don’t know you.
NICOLAS
But you respect me.
VICTOR
I don’t know you.
NICOLAS
Are you saying you don’t respect me?
Pause.
Are you saying you would respect me if you knew me better? Would you like to know me better?
Pause.
Would you like to know me better?
VICTOR
What I would like … has no bearing on the matter.
NICOLAS
Oh yes it has.
Pause.
I’ve heard so much about you. I’m terribly pleased to meet you. Well, I’m not sure that pleased is the right word. One has to be so scrupulous about language. Intrigued. I’m intrigued. Firstly because I’ve heard so much about you. Secondly because if you don’t respect me you’re unique. Everyone else knows the voice of God speaks through me. You’re not a religious man, I take it?
Pause.
You don’t believe in a guiding light?
Pause.
What then?
Pause.
So … morally … you flounder in wet shit. You know … like when you’ve eaten a rancid omelette.
Pause.
I think I deserve one for the road.
He pours, drinks.
Do you drink whisky?
Pause.
I hear you have a lovely house. Lots of books. Someone told me some of my boys kicked it around a bit. Pissed on the rugs, that sort of thing. I wish they wouldn’t do that. I do really. But you know what it’s like – they have such responsibilities – and they feel them – they are constantly present – day and night – these responsibilities – and so, sometimes, they piss on a few rugs. You understand. You’re not a fool.
Pause.
Is your son all right?
VICTOR
I don’t know.
NICOLAS
Oh, I’m sure he’s all right. What age is he … seven … or thereabouts? Big lad, I’m told. Nevertheless, silly of him to behave as he did. But is he all right?
VICTOR
I don’t know.
NICOLAS
Oh, I’m sure he’s all right. Anyway, I’ll have a word with him later and find out. He’s somewhere on the second floor, I believe.
Pause.
Well now …
Pause.
What do you say? Are we friends?
Pause.
I’m prepared to be frank, as a true friend should. I love death. What about you?
Pause.
What about you? Do you love death? Not necessarily your own. Others’. The death of others. Do you love the death of others, or at any rate, do you love the death of others as much as I do?
Pause.
Are you always so dull? I understood you enjoyed the cut and thrust of debate.
Pause.
Death. Death. Death. Death. As has been noted by the most respected authorities, it is beautiful. The purest, most harmonious thing there is. Sexual intercourse is nothing compared to it.
He drinks.
Talking about sexual intercourse …
He laughs wildly, stops.
Does she … fuck? Or does she …? Or does she … like … you know … what? What does she like? I’m talking about your wife. Your wife.
Pause.
You know the old joke? Does she fuck?
Heavily, in another voice:
Does she fuck!
He laughs.
It’s ambiguous, of course. It could mean she fucks like a rabbit or she fucks not at all.
Pause.
Well, we’re all God’s creatures. Even your wife.
Pause.
There is only one obligation. To be honest. You have no other obligation. Weigh that. In your mind. Do you know the man who runs this country? No? Well, he’s a very nice chap. He took me aside the other day, last Wednesday, I think it was, he took me aside, at a reception, visiting dignitaries, he took me aside, me, and he said to me, he said, in what I can only describe as a hoarse whisper, Nic, he said, Nic (that’s my name), Nic, if you ever come across anyone whom you have good reason to believe is getting on my tits, tell them one thing, tell them honesty is the best policy. The cheese was superb. Goat. One for the road.
He pours.
Your wife and I had a very nice chat but I couldn’t help noticing she didn’t look her best. She’s probably menstruating. Women do that.
Pause.
You know, old chap, I do love other things, apart from death. So many things. Nature. Trees, things like that. A nice blue sky. Blossom.
Pause.
Tell me … truly … are you beginning to love me?
Pause.
I think your wife is. Beginning. She is beginning to fall in love with me. On the brink … of doing so. The trouble is, I have rivals. Because everyone here has fallen in love with your wife. It’s her eyes have beguiled them. What’s her name? Gila … or something?
Pause.
Who would you prefer to be? You or me?
Pause.
I’d go for me if I were you. The trouble about you, although I grant your merits, is that you’re on a losing wicket, while I can’t put a foot wrong. Do you take my point? Ah God, let me confess, let me make a confession to you. I have never been more moved, in the whole of my life, as when – only the other day, last Friday, I believe – the man who runs this country announced to the country: We are all patriots, we are as one, we all share a common heritage. Except you, apparently.
Pause.
I feel a link, you see, a bond. I share a commonwealth of interest. I am not alone. I am not alone!
Silence.
VICTOR
Kill me.
NICOLAS
What?
VICTOR
Kill me.
NICOLAS goes to him, puts his arm around him.
NICOLAS
What’s the matter?
Pause.
What in heaven’s name is the matter?
Pause.
Mmmnnn?
Pause.
You’re probably just hungry. Or thirsty. Let me tell you something. I hate despair. I find it intolerable. The stink of it gets up my nose. It’s a blemish. Despair, old fruit, is a cancer. It should be castrated. Indeed I’ve often found that that works. Chop the balls off and despair goes out the window. You’re left with a happy man. Or a happy woman. Look at me.
VICTOR does so.
Your soul shines out of your eyes.
Blackout.
Lights up. Afternoon.
NICOLAS standing with a small boy.
NICOLAS
What is your name?
NICKY
Nicky.
NICOLAS
Really? How odd.
Pause.
Do you like cowboys and Indians?
NICKY
Yes. A bit.
NICOLAS
What do you really like?
NICKY
I like aeroplanes.
NICOLAS
Real ones or toy ones?
NICKY
I like both kinds of ones.
NICOLAS
Do you?
Pause.
Why do you like aeroplanes?
Pause.
NICKY
Well … because they go so fast. Through the air. The real ones do.
NICOLAS
And the toy ones?
NICKY
I pretend they go as fast as the real ones do.
Pause.
NICOLAS
Do you like your mummy and daddy?
Pause.
Do you like your mummy and daddy?
NICKY
Yes.
NICOLAS
Why?
Pause.
Why?
Pause.
Do you find that a hard question to answer?
Pause.
NICKY
Where’s mummy?
NICOLAS
You don’t like your mummy and daddy?
NICKY
Yes, I do.
NICOLAS
Why?
Pause.
Would you like to be a soldier when you grow up?
NICKY
I don’t mind.
NICOLAS
You don’t? Good. You like soldiers. Good. But you spat at my soldiers and you kicked them. You attacked them.
NICKY
Were they your soldiers?
NICOLAS
They are your country’s soldiers.