What you tell me about in the nights. That is not love. That is only passion and lust.
When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve.
-- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
So daily I renew my idle duty;
I touch her here and there, I know my place;
I kiss her open mouth, I praise her beauty,
and people call me traitor to my face.
-- Leonard Cohen, The Traitor
Scene 1 Arms and the Man
A young Ernest Hemingway sits at the wheel of a motor vehicle. As he drives along something in his eyes changes. He drifts into a hazy form of tunnel vision. We see something clouding his vision. He visibly tenses. In the next few moments the sounds of artillery shells are interspersed with moaning and screaming. Hemingways eyes grew wider and more desperate as he continues to drive. The noise reaches the peak of a crescendo and then there is silence for a moment. Hemingway is still. A lone womans voice speaks gently.
VOICE: Ernie? Are you alright, Ernie?
[Blackout. The ensuing change occurs in a different light, perhaps colored, but Hemingway is lost in stillness until the lights come up to full brightness for the ensuing scene.]
Scene 2 Driving
The lights change. Hemingway is now joined by an attractive young woman, Catherine Adams. She carries herself upright and calmly. She has a backbone, but retains a gentle spirit. Hemingway is still lost.
CATHERINE: Ernie? Are you alright, Ernie?
[Hemingway snaps out of it.]
CATHERINE: You were lost.
HEMINGWAY: Well, Im here now.
CATHERINE: You were thinking about the war.
HEMINGWAY: Its always the war.
CATHERINE: Its been ten years.
HEMINGWAY: Eleven. It never goes away. Its still in my head.
CATHERINE: You shouldnt have tried to be a hero.
You should have just driven an ambulance.
[Hemingway looks at her for a moment, unable to say anything, then looks away.]
[She looks at him. He looks at her for a moment. Lights fade. Music.]
Scene 3 That Summer in Paris
Gertrude Stein enters. She is a tough looking woman, almost mannish. She is what you might call frumpy.
GERTRUDE: Summer of 1929. Paris. Paris was Paris was Paris was Paris. Paris was hot.
Ernie was coming back to Paris. He had finally stopped wearing that fake Italian uniform.
Thank heaven for Mussolini. Uniforms, especially Italian ones, were starting to look fascistic, and whatever else Ernie was, he was no fascist. It was a shame for Ernie, because he had come to rely on that uniform to fill in where his natural charm and a cocktail left off. Some women are easily impressed by a black shirt and a couple of standard issue stories. I wouldnt know.
Ive never been impressed by fashion. You could say that fashion has never been impressed by me, either.
That summer was the last great summer. Ernie, Alice B., Eliot was there and so was Ezra, Ford Maddox Ford working on his book terrible book, Scott and Zelda. Everyone was there at some point, except the ones who were already dead, though some claimed to have seen Marcel Proust that summer. No one was ever sure when Proust was dead.
That summer we had fabulous apartments in the fashionably dirty part of the city. We spent our days picking up lovers and our nights destroying our friendships in those fabulous rooms next to the Brazilians, who didnt seem to mind or care that we were there.
It wasnt even really summer when it all started. I was sitting there with Alice B. and we were playing doctor when the first knock on the door signaled the beginning of it all. All gone now. Gone, gone, gone.
[She takes her seat as the lights change and Alice B. Toklas enters with a small tray of finger sandwiches.]
Scene 4 Men Without Women
As before. Alice B. Toklas, a pleasantly attractive woman enters carrying a tray of finger sandwiches. The sandwiches have no crusts. She walks behind Gertrude, stopping to kiss the back of her head before putting down the tray, sitting down and pleasantly lounging next to her.
There is a knock at the door.
ALICE B: Ill get it.
GERTRUDE: Good, because Im not getting up.
[Alice B. goes to the door. She opens the door and in walks T.S. Eliot wearing a coat and carrying a shoebox. He hands the shoebox to Alice B. while taking his coat off.]
ALICE B: Thomas!
ELIOT: Its still a little chilly out there.
ALICE B: Its Thomas.
GERTRUDE: So good of you to come down for the summer, Tom.
ALICE B: And hes brought spare shoes with him.
ELIOT: Its not shoes.
GERTRUDE: What do you have in the box?
ELIOT: Its a kitten. I bought it on the street on the way here.
ALICE B: A kitten? How delightful!
GERTRUDE: Are you sure it can breathe in there?
[Eliot takes the box and holds it at an angle that could only cause the kitten inside some major trauma.]
ELIOT: Oh he can breathe fine. I punched some tiny holes in the top of the box. See?
GERTRUDE: You and your cats.
ELIOT: Are those finger sandwiches?
[There is another knock at the door.]
ELIOT: Ezra was coming up behind me.
[Ezra Pound enters. He is carrying a bag of groceries.]
ALICE B: Its Ezra.
GERTRUDE: Ezra! How are you?
EZRA: Famished. Im going to the kitchen.
[Ezra exits to the kitchen. Eliot sits down and Alice follows him. Eliot, Gertrude and Alice B. each pick up a finger sandwich.]
ELIOT: Oh, these are good.
ALICE B: Ezra really outdid himself with these.
GERTRUDE: Its so good to have a real cook here.
ALICE B: He should start a restaurant.
ELIOT: What would he call it? Chez Ezra?
ALICE B: How about Pounds?
ELIOT: That sounds absolutely fattening.
GERTRUDE: Pound de Terre.
ALICE B: I like that.
[Ezra enters stirring something.]
GERTRUDE: Pound de Terre. Pound of the Earth.
EZRA: That has a nice ring to it.
ALICE B: We were saying you should start a restaurant.
EZRA: What would I do with a restaurant?
ELIOT: You could make more of these sandwiches.
EZRA: You like them?
ALICE B: Theyre delightful.
EZRA: Its amazing what you can do with horsemeat.
[There is a stunned silence.]
EZRA: What? Its an old joke.
GERTRUDE: Nobody likes an old joke.
[There is another knock at the door. No one gets up.]
GERTRUDE: I hope its not the Irish. I hear theyre in town.
Theyre always stealing the spoons.
GERTRUDE: I suppose Ill have to get it.
ALICE B: Its your turn.
GERTRUDE: I hate democracy.
[She gets up to answer the door. Ford Maddox Ford, a businesslike gentleman enters.]
GERTRUDE: Well, if it isnt Ford Maddox Ford.
FORD: Hello, Gertrude, hello.
GERTRUDE: Would you like a seat, Maddox, seat?
FORD: Sure, yes, sure. How are the sandwiches?
ALICE B: Dee-lish!
EZRA: Theyre horsemeat.
FORD: Stallion or mare?
FORD: My favorite. [He takes a bite.] Oh, these are good. Really good, Ezra. Top of the line.
ALICE B: We think he should start a restaurant.
GERTRUDE: Pound de Terre.
FORD: Oh, thats good. People will flock to it.
And you could write special cantos for the menu.
EZRA: Why would I write cantos for the menu? Why not write the menu in blank verse?
ELIOT: Im afraid weve given him too many ideas. This will go to his head.
FORD: How are the Brazilians?
ELIOT: Remarkably quiet. This bodes wellif it lasts.
[There is a knock on the door.]
ELIOT: Are we expecting company?
GERTRUDE: Ernies back on the continent.
Its even odds whether or not hes still wearing the uniform.
ELIOT: Its been ten years.
FORD: Put me down for two dollars against him wearing it.
EZRA: Hell probably wear it until the next war.
FORD: Theres a paradox, waiting for The War After The War to End All War.
GERTRUDE: Sounds like something the Irish would write, in between spoon thefts.
[There is another, more emphatic knock on the door.]
FORD: Isnt anyone going to answer that?
GERTRUDE: Should we take a vote?
EZRA: I think Gertrude should answer the door.
ELIOT: I second.
FORD: All in favor.
[Everyone raises a hand, except for Gertrude.]
GERTRUDE: I hate democracy.
[She goes to the door.]
FORD: Whats her problem with the Irish?
ALICE B: She thinks he stole a teaspoon last time he came over.
ELIOT: I suspect she lost it herself but cant deal with the idea that fate alone could part her
from her beloved silverware.
[Gertrude returns with Hemingway and Catherine.]
HEMINGWAY: These are nice digs.
GERTRUDE: Enough room for us all. Except for Ford.
He likes to stay at the Ritz Carlton Ritz.
HEMINGWAY: I suppose I should do introductions. Catherine Adams, this is Gertrude Stein.
CATHERINE: Gertrude. Ive heard so much about you.
GERTRUDE: Its all true, and then some.
HEMINGWAY: This is Alice B. Toklas.
CATHERINE: Alice. Pleased to meet you.
ALICE B: Likewise.
HEMINGWAY: Thats Thomas Stearnes Eliot there with the shoebox.
ELIOT: Its a cat.
HEMINGWAY: Ford Maddox Ford.
FORD: Theres no need to be formal. Please call me Ford.
EZRA: Nobody likes that joke.
HEMINGWAY: And thats Ezra Pound. We call him a poet, but his true calling is cooking.
How are the sandwiches?
ELIOT: Ive never had anything more magical.
GERTRUDE: Ill arm wrestle you for one, Ernie.
HEMINGWAY: Oh, please.
GERTRUDE: I realize it wouldnt be fair, but maybe youd give me a run for my money.
HEMINGWAY: Why dont we have a drink?
ALICE B: Thats a good idea. We should drink before Scott and Zelda get here.
GERTRUDE: We should drink as much as we can before they get here.
EZRA: Theyre apparently trying to kick the habit.
Climbing aboard the temperance wagon, if you will.
ELIOT: It seems odd that they would leave a dry country and come across the ocean to the
Continent and then decide to give up liquor. It would make so much more sense to do the opposite.
CATHERINE: I guess theyre just looking for something forbidden.
HEMINGWAY: Its just a fad.
[Drinks are passed around. Idle chatter as the drinks are poured. Catherine explores the apartment.]
CATHERINE: Whats behind this door?
GERTRUDE: Whatever you do
[Catherine opens the door. A wall of Brazilian music comes crashing through. Catherine looks in, captivated, then closes the door. The music cuts off as abruptly as it came in.]
EZRA: Dont open the door.
HEMINGWAY: Whats that?
GERTRUDE: Its the Brazilians.
ALICE B: Theyre very nice.
CATHERINE: It looked like there was a café in there.
EZRA: There is. They have remarkable coffee.
ELIOT: I found their food quite passable. Better than Portugese cuisine by half.
HEMINGWAY: That door is remarkably soundproof.
ELIOT: These old homes they dont build them like that anymore.
[To the shoebox.] Isnt that right Mr. Ulysses?
HEMINGWAY: Thats a pretty lame name for a cat.
CATHERINE: I think its rather charming.
[Hemingway shuts up. Eliot plays with the cat. Ezra stirs his bowl. Gertrude and Alice drink.]
FORD: I should like to
[Theres a knock at the door.]
GERTRUDE: That should be Scott and Zelda.
ALICE B: Always on time.
[Hemingway goes to the door.]
SCOTT: Thats good. Thank you. Merci.
HEMINGWAY: Scott! Zelda!
[F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald enter. They look fabulous. Scott cuts quite a handsome figure in casual, yet stylish clothes, and Zelda is in rare form.]
GERTRUDE: Come on in! The party is starting already.
ZELDA: I hope we havent missed it.
[Zelda eyes Hemingway.]
HEMINGWAY: Not at all, not at all. It wouldnt be a party without you.
[Hemingway takes her hand somewhat firmly, but careful to block Catherines view.]
SCOTT: Im beginning to think that we should all live in Paris forever.
ELIOT: What would we write about then? Being French?
SCOTT: I suppose you have a point. Not quite the weather to go for a swim yet, is it?
HEMINGWAY: Are you sure you want to be caught in a bathing suit, Fitz?
[Scott is slightly shaken.]
SCOTT: Sure. Why not?
ZELDA: Is that a kitten in your shoebox, Mr. Eliot?
ELIOT: Its Mr. Ulysses.
ZELDA: Thats such a precious name for a kitten. Isnt it, sweetie? Oh, yes it is. Yes it is.
[Ezra, who has gotten up to give Scott a handshake and a sandwich, looks out the door.]
EZRA: Whats in all those crates?
ZELDA: Coca-Cola. We just cant get enough of it, now that were on the wagon.
SCOTT: You cant imagine how hard it was to get it over here.
ZELDA: Oh, but we have to have it. It would be a long summer without a nice refreshing Coke
to come home to.
SCOTT: Whats behind the
EZRA: I wouldnt
[Scott opens the Brazilian door. The same wall of music. A pair of people, presumably
The Brazilians, dip in and then go back. Scott is mesmerized.]
CATHERINE: Its beautiful and romantic.
SCOTT: Breathtaking. They seem to be like one person.
CATHERINE: Exactly! They move as if theyre part of the same animal.
HEMINGWAY: Animalthat about describes it.
[Hemingway looks at Zelda and Zelda looks at him and they look together in that look that speaks so much but does not say anything. They are lost. They breathe together for a moment as everyone else goes about their business and the lights fade down and the Brazilian music gives way to other music. Scott and Catherine are still staring at the Brazilians. Eliot stokes the cat and Ezra is stirring. Gertrude and Alice drink and Ford is still caught in mid-sentence.]
Interlude The Black Watch
A café table, perhaps on a sidestage. A well-dressed businesswoman, Reilly Borogoves, enters and sits down. In a second a man, Maxwell Perkins enters with two cups of coffee and sits down.
MAXWELL: Thanks for meeting here, Reilly.
REILLY: Sure thing, Max. Whats the story?
MAXWELL: Everyones in Paris. I thought Id warn all the associate editors to brush up on
their French and look over a map of the city. Errors are to be avoided, and were the ones to do the avoiding.
REILLY: Ill never understand why they congregate like this. Its really unoriginal.
MAXWELL: Sure, sure, but it makes our work more concentrated too. Everyone knows a little
French so we dont have to do the legwork to keep the writers honest. Can you imagine what it would be like if they were all over the map? Wed end up having to pay someone who can speak Persian. Or worse yet, wed have to take the authors word that they know what theyre writing about.
REILLY: I see your point there.
MAXWELL: I have a special case for you here.
REILLY: What is it?
MAXWELL: Its a who.
MAXWELL: Morley Callaghan. Hes come up from Toronto, worked on the paper there with
Hemingway. Nice young kid.
REILLY: Theyre all nice young kids these days.
MAXWELL: Keep an eye on him. Look after him. Hes got some storiessome boxing
storiesquite good, quite good. Needs some care.
REILLY: Sounds like youre asking me to be his guardian angel.
MAXWELL: In a way.
REILLY: Is that what Im being paid for?
MAXWELL: We are like shepherds
REILLY: Maxwell, youre sounding downright ecumenical.
MAXWELL: We have a responsibility, not just to the individualsthe readers and the
writersbut to posterity. Our charge is to take these men and women, take their flesh and bones, take their blood and their ink and to make writers out of them.
REILLY: Thats the most beautiful description of proofreading Ive ever heard.
MAXWELL: You can laugh at me, Reilly Borogoves, but you know its true. An editor is like
a navigator on a ship. We guide, we cajole. We tell them the truth when nobody else will dare say anything to them. We keep writers honest.
REILLY: Honesty in fictiontheres a paradox. Should we put that on our book jackets?
MAXWELL: What is the first duty of an editor, Reilly?
REILLY: To keep a writers head from getting too big.
MAXWELL: Exactly! But what else do we have to do?
REILLY: Keep them from being afraid.
MAXWELL: Now isnt that like some sort of angel? We keep their spirits alive, we feed them
with our praise and we keep them in line with our criticism. We keep the balance.
REILLY: So what does Mr. Morley Callaghan from Toronto needa shepherd, a navigator,
a proofreader, or an angel?
MAXWELL: I think he may need it all.
REILLY: Sounds like a big job. When do I start?
[Maxwell Perkins smiles.]
Scene 5 The Good Soldier Good
Summer. Paris. A bright shiny day. Eliot enters carrying the shoebox with Mr. Ulysses inside.
ELIOT: Its a beautiful day, isnt it, Mr. Ulysses? Just look at the bright summer sun. Look at it, revel in it. Bask, bask, bask.
[We hear a faint, annoyed mew.]
ELIOT: Whats that? Okay, okay, enough basking. I suppose your eyes arent accustomed to
the light, or to the darkness. Youre just a small thing and its a big world. But youll be fine, wont you, Mr. Ulysses? Wont you? Because youre a strong cat. Youre a brave cat. And brave cats survive and live all their nine lives. Would you like some ham, Mr. Ulysses? We have some nice ham, yes we do. Yes we do.
GERTRUDE: Hasnt anyone smothered that cat yet?
ELIOT: Someone woke up on the wrong bank of the Seine this morning.
[Gertrude throws a pillow at Eliot, who uses the shoebox to deflect the projectile. Alice B. enters. She picks up the pillow and return it to its place carefully, then walks up to Gertrude and kisses her cheek.]
ALICE B: Good morning, Thomas. How are you?
ELIOT: I was fine.
ALICE B: Not fine anymore?
ELIOT: Ducking pillows.
ALICE B: Oh. Well, its just that
GERTRUDE: Dont listen to her, shes delusional.
[Alice B. walks over and whispers something to Eliot.]
ELIOT: Ohhh. Really? Ohhhh. Oh. My. Well. Oh.
ALICE B: And after the speckled trout it wasnt a good idea.
GERTRUDE: Why do you have to bring up the trout?
ALICE B: Its integral to the story.
GERTRUDE: There is no story. Its just words, phrases, sentences. Fragments.
ALICE B: Its just a story.
GERTRUDE: Its not a good story. Tell your own story, not mine.
ALICE B: Its my story too.
GERTRUDE: Ill arm wrestle you for it.
ELIOT: There has to be a more civilized way to settle this.
[Ezra and Catherine enter. Ezra is carrying some sort of food stuff in mid-preparation. Alice B. and Gertrude arm wrestle. Alice B is determined, but Gertrude slams her hand into the table. Alice is hurt, but Gertrude is too busy being triumphant to notice.]
CATHERINE: Mr. Pound has made a lovely breakfast.
EZRA: I was fortunate to find fresh ingredients. The rest was just luck.
CATHERINE: Youre too humble.
GERTRUDE: I wonder whats keeping Ernie?
CATHERINE: He seems to have wandered off in the past few weeks.
ELIOT: Hes about due for a novel. Im sure hes scribbling away diligently.
GERTRUDE: The only thing hes diligently working on is wine bottles.
CATHERINE: Hes been through a lot.
GERTRUDE: I know. We should have rented a place with a cellar.
CATHERINE: Hes had some rough times. His mind is swimming. You can see it in his eyes.
Hes looking for things to hold on to. Sometimes I wonder how hell survive, how hell go on with that look in his eyes.
[Ford Maddox Ford enters.]
ALICE B: Ford! Good morning.
[Ezra runs out. Ford is caught once again in midsentence. Everyone looks around puzzled. Ezra runs back in with a mysterious foodstuff.]
EZRA: You have to try this.
[He stuffs the foodstuff into Fords mouth. Ford chews and chews and chews. Ford is puzzled.]
EZRA: Its a bit chewy, but it should be alright.
[Ford mumbles something incomprehensible.]
EZRA: Thats right, just chew. There you go.
CATHERINE: How are the Brazilians today?
ELIOT: Havent peeked in. Unusually quiet, though.
CATHERINE: It seems so amazing still. Should we take a look?
GERTRUDE: Go ahead, knock yourself out.
[Catherine opens the door. The Brazilian music can be heard. She stands there transfixed by something. She closes the door, and walks back slowly.]
ELIOT: They seem to be at it early today.
CATHERINE: Yes. Very early.
[Scott enters. He is carrying a Coca-Cola which he takes sips from constantly.]
SCOTT: Morning, all.
ALICE B: Morning, Scott.
GERTRUDE: Wheres Zelda?
GERTRUDE: We just assumed youd walk in together. You always seem to
SCOTT: Always seem to what?
ALICE B: Its just that
SCOTT: What is it? Is there something wrong
ALICE B: Nobody meant anything.
GERTRUDE: You can say that again.
CATHERINE: Im sure Zelda will be here shortly.
ELIOT: Certainly. Its Paris; people go for long walks.
SCOTT: By themselves?
ELIOT: By themselves or with other people.
SCOTT: Other people?
ELIOT: Its a morning thing. You walk along the riverside and talk and listen. Its quite nice.
[Scott takes a long drink.]
CATHERINE: Im sure shes fine.
ALICE B: Besides, Ernies with her.
[There is a moment of silence.]
SCOTT: Ernies with her.
CATHERINE: Yes. Im sure it will be fine.
ELIOT: He can keep away the riff-raff.
GERTRUDE: Other than himself.
ALICE B: You know, theyve been spending an awful lot of
EZRA: Maybe youd like to try some of this new dish Ive been working on.
ELIOT: That sounds like a capital idea.
[Ezra gives some of the chewy food to Scott.]
EZRA: Now, you have to chew it pretty well.
[Scott mutters something incomprehensible.]
EZRA: There you go. Tasty, isnt it?
[There is a knock at the door.]
GERTRUDE: That must be them.
[Alice B. goes to the door and returns with two people in tow. It is not them. Morley and Lowrey Callaghan enter. Morley is a writer and is dressed like one. A little too warmly dressed for the summer. Lowrey is charming and attractive and a little underdressed for summer in Paris.]
MORLEY: Im Morley Callaghan, from Toronto.
ELIOT: Oh, yes, the Canadian fellow. Welcome to Paris.
MORLEY: This is my wife Lowrey.
ALICE B: Theyre Ernies friends from Toronto.
GERTRUDE: Youve picked a fine summer to be in Paris.
MORLEY: Its a beautiful morning, with the sun and all that.
ELIOT: Thats terribly poetic. Terribly.
GERTRUDE: I suppose introductions are in order. Im Gertrude. The charming woman who
let you in is Alice B. Toklas. Dont let her tell you any stories about trout. The fellow with the mouthful of chewy food over there is Ford Maddox Ford. If he wasnt chewing so intently hed tell you an awful joke about how you should call him Ford to be less formal. This is T.S. Eliot.
ELIOT: And this is Mr. Ulysses.
MORLEY: You named your shoes?
[Eliot holds up the shoebox at an uncomfortable angle.]
ELIOT: Its a kitten.
LOWREY: Doesnt that hurt the kitten?
ELIOT: Not at all. Theyre very resilient. Isnt that right, Mr. Ulysses?
GERTRUDE: The cook over there is Ezra Pound. We call him a poet, but he seems to be more
comfortable working with more perishable ingredients.
EZRA: I have breakfast ready if youd like something.
LOWREY: That would be lovely.
GERTRUDE: You know Scott Fitzgerald, of course.
MORLEY: We met in New York.
ELIOT: Ezra seems to have been experimented with a recipe for India rubber.
EZRA: Its a more refined taste that requires an effort.
You only get out of it what you put into it.
GERTRUDE: And finally, this is Ernies friend, Catherine Adams.
CATHERINE: Ive heard so much about you.
MORLEY: Im flattered that Ernie would say anything about me,
much less anything youd remember.
LOWREY: Where is Ernie? Ive been looking forward to seeing him.
ALICE B: Hell be coming in any minute now.
CATHERINE: Yes. Any minute.
ALICE B: You should have a seat.
GERTRUDE: Well have to play musical chairs.
ELIOT: A bit early in the morning for party games, Id say.
GERTRUDE: We can arm wrestle for a seat.
EZRA: I think our new guests should at least be able to sit down.
GERTRUDE: Thats not the American way, surely.
EZRA: Well, were not in America, are we?
[Morley and Lowrey sit down as others make way. Scott seethes in the corner.]
CATHERINE: Will you be staying the whole summer?
ELIOT: Do you like cats?
LOWREY: It would be a shame if we didnt, especially if Ernie is going to be here the whole
time. I miss his company.
MORLEY: I cant say Ive really dealt with cats.
CATHERINE: He is charming.
ELIOT: You should get to know them. Theyre just like people.
LOWREY: Oh, hes fabulous.
HEMINGWAY: Whos fabulous?
[The sound of Brazilian music. Hemingway enters. He is wearing a big confident grin on his face. Zelda is hanging on his shoulder with a martini in one hand.
She looks content. When Scott sees this he spits out his chewy food into Eliots shoebox.]
[Lowrey gets up and goes to Hemingway, who deftly moves Zelda away and takes Lowrey into his arms and gives her a more than friendly kiss to which she replies in kind. Morley looks at Catherine, Catherine looks at Hemingway. Scott looks at Zelda, but Zelda is looking back at Hemingway. Eliot looks at the goo in the shoebox.]
ELIOT: Ezra, what is this stuff?
EZRA: I made it with pastry dough and guar gum.
HEMINGWAY: What the hell is guar gum?
EZRA: I was curious to find out myself.
ELIOT: You really shouldnt experiment with peoples lives.
EZRA: We only get one lifeone chance to have new experiences.
LOWREY: How have you been Ernie? Have you had any new adventures?
HEMINGWAY: Just a little bear I ran into back in Michigan.
LOWREY: That sounds terrible.
HEMINGWAY: It was just a little bear. Hey, Morley, are you ready to go another couple of
rounds with me.
[He mimes sparring with Morley.]
MORLEY: Anytime, Ernie. Anytime you want.
ZELDA: We should have a cocktail party.
SCOTT: You really shouldnt be drinking.
ELIOT: Do you have a napkin I may use to remove this guar gum from Mr. Ulysses abode.
EZRA: I wonder if the cat will eat it.
ELIOT: And you will continue to wonder about that forever.
ZELDA: Dont tell me what I can or cant do.
SCOTT: I thought we werent going to drink.
ZELDA: You thought we werent going to drink. Isnt that what its all about?
You thinking for we. Im not your maid.
SCOTT: If you were I wouldnt give half a crap.
ZELDA: Take your whole crap and stuff it. Look at you. You think you know what youre
doing but you have no idea. Youre drinking Coke like it was bourbon.
Youre a small man grasping for big things but all you can hold onto is a bottle.
SCOTT: Whereas you can only handle it by the glass.
MORLEY: Should we be here for this?
GERTRUDE: Its just starting to get good.
HEMINGWAY: You look wonderful, Lowrey. I love the shape of your neck.
LOWREY: Youre as charming as ever, Ernie.
ALICE B: Its too early in the morning for this.
CATHERINE: We should try to excuse ourselves.
MORLEY: Are you sure we can make it out of here in one piece?
CATHERINE: Ive never been sure of that.
[Pause. Morley and Catherine share a smile.]
SCOTT: I cant believe you.
ZELDA: Im not asking you to believe in me. You dont have to believe in anything.
I dont care.
EZRA: Does anyone else want breakfast?
SCOTT: Of course you dont care. You cant care.
Youre not made to care, just to be cared for.
ZELDA: If you were a man, youd be such a small man.
SCOTT: What do you want?
ELIOT: I think some of your pastry is stuck in Mr. Ulysses fur.
MORLEY: Do you ever get the feeling that fate has a sense of humor?
CATHERINE: I wish we could laugh.
[They look at each other again and smile again.]
SCOTT: Well, what do you want?
ZELDA: I want a goddamned cocktail party!
SCOTT: Fine! We can have a goddamned cocktail party!
We can have all the damn parties you want and you can have all the goddamned cocktails you please. Whatever it takes to keep you happy.
ZELDA: You dont have what it takes to keep me happy.
GERTRUDE: A cocktail party it is!
[Lowrey and Hemingway open the Brazilian door. The Brazilians come bounding out dancing as their music plays. Ezra and Eliot light some sort of candles which they hand to the Brazilians as the lights fade down. The others make their exits leaving the stage to the Brazilians, who dance passionately, each with a candle in one hand and the other in the other hand. This continues into the next scene.]
Scene 6 Moonlight Sonata
Paris. Summer. Same as before, only now it is night and the room is lit dimly and with candles.
The Brazilians are still dancing, but their dance has become slower, even more sensual.
They exit, as they do they pass their candles to Hemingway and Catherine, who enter.
HEMINGWAY: This is what I always imagined Paris would be like
when I would think about Paris. Candlelight. Music. I would walk along the banks of the Seine and across the bridge and across the city until my legs gave out and I had to find a café where I could just sit and stare out at people for a few hours.
Shattered. I was shattered. They were shattered. Everything was shattered.
But I am here now and the candles are here and so is the music. And you.
CATHERINE: Ernest, you are haunted.
HEMINGWAY: I always thought it would be so simple. The light, the sound, the love.
It would all come together at the right time, if it would happen at all.
CATHERINE: You should just enjoy the night, Ernest.
HEMINGWAY: Im pretty much hammered already. Cocktails, wine.
CATHERINE: I wonder what the Brazilians are doing tonight.
HEMINGWAY: Doing whatever it is the Brazilians do.
Drinking whatever it is the Brazilians drink. Pernod.
CATHERINE: I hate Pernod.
HEMINGWAY: I know.
HEMINGWAY: Ive never liked the word romantic.
CATHERINE: I wish you wouldnt look at me that way, Ernest.
HEMINGWAY: I didnt realize my eyes were inflected.
CATHERINE: It isnt how you want it to be. Im sorry.
HEMINGWAY: Its what it is. Thats all it can be.
CATHERINE: Ernest, I look in your eyes and I see it and I cant bear to see it.
So many of ustouched.
CATHERINE: You are haunted. I know that.
HEMINGWAY: A man has to go on.
We live our lives day to day and we survive and thats all there is. Until the end.
CATHERINE: I hope you can have dreams again, Ernest. I really hope you do.
HEMINGWAY: That sounds nice. Too nice.
CATHERINE: Its not all nightmares. You should know that.
HEMINGWAY: It doesnt have to be this. It could be something else.
CATHERINE: I didnt like the destruction during the war and I cant bear these
destructions either. I see people destroying things, lives, as if it was the war.
HEMINGWAY: Its always the war.
CATHERINE: Its been ten years. Its time to build something better.
HEMINGWAY: I never liked the word romance.
CATHERINE: Id like to see your eyes when you can have dreams again, beautiful dreams.
HEMINGWAY: No. Dont say it. It doesnt mean anything. It cant mean anything.
CATHERINE: I was just going to say that I you you should take care of yourself.
[Catherine exits. Lowrey enters, holding a lit candle.]
LOWREY: Mind if I sit down?
HEMINGWAY: Go ahead.
[Lowrey sits down next to Hemingway. She puts her arm around him sympathetically.
She looks at him warmly. He looks at her with desperate hollow eyes. They kiss passionately.
They break apart, breathless. Hemingway gets up and leaves without a word.
Lowrey straightens herself up. Pause. She contemplates. Morley enters holding a candle.]
MORLEY: Mind if I sit down?
LOWREY: Go ahead.
[Morley sits down next to Lowrey, familiar, but not touching.]
MORLEY: Ezras making drinks with shaved ice. Very Italian.
LOWREY: Must be nice.
MORLEY: Hes no bartender, but I cant argue with his recipes.
LOWREY: Is Eliot having a romantic night out with that cat?
MORLEY: Mr. Ulysses likes the night. He must be a werecat.
LOWREY: Why did we get married?
MORLEY: We were in love. Young. Thats what happens.
LOWREY: Young. It was beautiful then. Did you love me?
[Morley touches Lowreys face and runs his hands through her hair. He kisses her gently.]
MORLEY: I love you.
LOWREY: Are we still in love?
MORLEY: Im beginning to think that love is a verb. I like it better as a verb
something you do, not someplace you go or something you sit on. I love you.
It sounds so simple, considering what it encompasses. I love you.
The most complex sentence there is. I love you.
LOWREY: Its so complicated.
MORLEY: Its not tangible.
LOWREY: So why do we reach out for it?
MORLEY: We reach out for people, not love.
Love is what we do when we try to touch someones heart.
[Lowrey looks into Morleys eyes. She touches his face.]
LOWREY: I cant. I cant
[Lowrey gets up and leaves. Morley is left alone. Catherine enters carrying a candle.]
CATHERINE: Do you still think fate has a sense of humor?
MORLEY: I think fate has moved beyond mirth into the realm of absurdity.
CATHERINE: So why cant we laugh?
MORLEY: We can laugh. We just dont.
CATHERINE: We dont have the same sense of humor as fate.
MORLEY: We all have a touch of it. Some of us get used to seeing the world that way.
CATHERINE: Some dont.
MORLEY: Nothing ever goes according to human plan.
CATHERINE: So you believe in a divine plan?
MORLEY: Its unfashionable.
CATHERINE: After the war, no one can believe in divinity.
MORLEY: I dont know why. It was humans that did the killing.
It was humans that should have stopped it. Rational science teaches us that everything goes according to natural laws, but people want to curse a god they dont want to believe in for not handing them a miracle that they say is impossible according to a rational universe.
CATHERINE: You werent in the war, were you?
MORLEY: I was sixteen when it was all over.
CATHERINE: So young. So young still.
MORLEY: I had to grow up fast.
CATHERINE: There were so many who didnt get to grow up.
I wonder if fate was laughing at them.
MORLEY: The influenza killed as many people as the war.
I dont think fate shares the same sense of humor.
CATHERINE: Youre more perceptive than Ernest gives you credit for.
MORLEY: I cant influence anyones imaginations. People think what they want to think.
CATHERINE: Still, Ernest sees you as a kid.
MORLEY: Yes, well, Im not.
CATHERINE: You have kind eyes. I know that sounds strange, but a persons eyes
they speak to a persons heart. You have kind eyes, not mean.
MORLEY: Thats kind of you I suppose.
[They both crack a smile.]
MORLEY: For a writer I can have an awful way with words.
CATHERINE: Everyone is allowed inarticulate moments.
MORLEY: What about you? You always seem to know what to say.
CATHERINE: Seem. Seem.
MORLEY: What are you hiding, Catherine Adams?
CATHERINE: I dont know what you can mean.
MORLEY: You seem to have this shield that keeps people from knowing you.
CATHERINE: Have you tried Ezras Italian ices?
MORLEY: Dont change the subject.
CATHERINE: Youre getting forceful.
MORLEY: I can be blunt if I have to be.
CATHERINE: Do you have to be?
MORLEY: Whats in your heart?
CATHERINE: Thats the question, isnt it? What am I supposed to say?
Im not that interesting.
MORLEY: Everyone is interesting.
CATHERINE: Im not a fascinating person. You people are all writers.
MORLEY: Except for Ezra.
CATHERINE: Dont mock me.
MORLEY: Im not mocking you, I just want to know who you are.
CATHERINE: Is that so important to you?
MORLEY: Why not?
CATHERINE: I asked first.
MORLEY: You still havent answered my first question.
CATHERINE: Are you always this
MORLEY: Relentless? Dogged? Persistent?
CATHERINE: I was going to say obnoxious. You Irish
MORLEY: Im Canadian, thank you very much. Dont change the subject.
CATHERINE: I cant tell you who I am in one sentence.
MORLEY: You can take all night if youd like.
MORLEY: Or longer.
CATHERINE: How long?
MORLEY: Until I know who you are.
MORLEY: I dont have a particular desire to hear myself talking.
CATHERINE: Are you sure youre a writer?
[They share a smile.]
MORLEY: We were talking about you.
CATHERINE: I dont understand why.
MORLEY: Neither do I.
[Pause. They smile.]
CATHERINE: I suppose this is the first time since I came to Paris that anyones wanted to
know anything about me.
MORLEY: Its their loss, I suspect.
CATHERINE: How can you be sure?
MORLEY: You have kind eyes.
CATHERINE: I like to take walks. There.
MORLEY: Thats something.
CATHERINE: I like to walk in cities, and in the countryside too. We used to spend summers
in the country. My family, that is. See, thats not interesting. Its not important.
MORLEY: I didnt know that about you before. That makes it important.
CATHERINE: But not interesting.
MORLEY: Interesting is subtext. Interesting is trying to figure out why you like to take walks.
CATHERINE: Im not sure.
MORLEY: You may not even know yourself. But it might be fun to try to explain it.
CATHERINE: I wasnt lying when I said you have kind eyes.
MORLEY: Neither was I.
CATHERINE: Im afraid once you find out whats in my heart you wont have anything left to
say to me. Its not all country walks and kind eyes.
MORLEY: Thats not all there is to life.
CATHERINE: I dont need a shoulder to cry on, if thats what youre expecting.
Im not weak. I dont melt when a man touches me.
MORLEY: I can see that.
CATHERINE: If you think that
MORLEY: Im not thinking anything. I just think that it might be nice to know who you are.
So I guess I am thinking, but just not thinking about ends.
CATHERINE: Im sorry I didnt mean to
MORLEY: Dont be sorry. I dont want your apologies, just your honesty.
CATHERINE: You really do have kind eyes. Whats in your heart?
MORLEY: A turtle a snapping turtle.
[Pause. They smile. It turns into a big laugh.]
CATHERINE: I dont know why thats so funny.
MORLEY: Its not funny, its true. I swear it.
CATHERINE: Oh, please, a turtle?
MORLEY: Okay, maybe its more of a frog.
CATHERINE: You dont even know whats in your own heart?
MORLEY: No. I dont.
[Pause. She takes his hand. He looks at it.]
MORLEY: You have beautiful hands.
[A long moment. They share a smile.]
CATHERINE: Maybe we should go for a walk. Just to cool off.
MORLEY: Of course.
[They exit. Ford enters carrying a candle. He is still chewing. He exits. Hemingway and Zelda enter flirtatiously with candles and drinks. They are both far gone in drunkenness.]
ZELDA: You are an animal.
HEMINGWAY: Were all animals.
ZELDA: I want you to tear me apart.
HEMINGWAY: Like a lion?
ZELDA: Just like a lion tearing into its prey.
[Hemingway goes to bite her neck. She spills her drink.]
ZELDA: Oh, my. Ive spilled my cocktail on you. Ill just have to take care of that.
HEMINGWAY: You should be careful. Im beginning to think that you cant hold your liquor.
ZELDA: Oh, I can hold it. I can hold on to it for as long as I want.
But sometimes my hand slips. Am I beautiful to you now? Do you want to screw me? Is that what you want to do? Do you want to put it in me?
HEMINGWAY: I dont want to do anything.
ZELDA: But you have to, you have to. You have to, because Im telling you to, because when
I touch you, you melt like a candle.
HEMINGWAY: Youre drunk.
ZELDA: And youre not so bad yourself.
HEMINGWAY: Youre not listening.
ZELDA: You know what your problem is, Ernie? You dont listen. You dont care about a
damn thing I have to say. And you know what, Ernie? Neither do I. I think we should stop boring each other with words and talk into each others mouths.
[She pushes him down into a kneeling position and then kisses him.]
ZELDA: There. Isnt that better? Whats the matter? Cat got your tongue?
[Silence. Hemingway pulls her down on top of him.]
ZELDA: Thats better. Youre the strong and silent type anyway. Making up for your lack of
childhood self-esteem with all your hunting and fishing. Thats right. I know.
Youre always afraid. Youre just a little child. A little boy. Now you can be a man. You can be a man tonight. Do you want to be a man?
Do you want me to make you a man?
[He grabs her roughly, kisses her, then pulls away violently and stumbles off. Zelda is left in a heap on the ground.]
ZELDA: Some men cant take a joke.
[Scott enters holding a candle and a Coca-Cola bottle.]
ZELDA: Its my dear sweet lover. How are you, dear sweet lover?
SCOTT: Youre drunk.
ZELDA: You are so perceptive. That must be your consolation for being so small.
SCOTT: This is stupid.
ZELDA: Youre stupid. Youre stupid for hanging on every word Ernie says when he treats
you like a stray dog. You let him kick you around and screw your wife because youre not strong enough to meet him face to face and take him on.
SCOTT: Is that what you want? A duel? A challenge?
What kind of fantasy world do you live in?
ZELDA: Youre not man enough for my fantasy world. A real man wouldnt
SCOTT: Wouldnt what? Wouldnt sit here and listen to you? Wouldnt keep himself from
smacking you around to make you shut up? Do you want me to hit you?
ZELDA: I was wrong. Youre not a weak man, after all. Youre a bastard.
SCOTT: We shouldnt have tried to quit drinking.
SCOTT: This is what we get for getting on the wagon. We should have just destroyed our lives
with liquor. Then we wouldnt be looking for other ways to destroy ourselves.
ZELDA: Scotty, why must you talk nonsense? Why cant you just listen.
SCOTT: I love you, goddammit!
ZELDA: Well, its about time you said it to me again.
SCOTT: I say it every day.
ZELDA: Sometimes I dont listen.
SCOTT: I cant understand you.
ZELDA: We came here to have a good time. Lets have a good time.
SCOTT: You seem to be having it for the both of us.
ZELDA: Ive made some errors of judgement. You cant blame me. Im just human.
Youve made your mistakes, too. And youre human too. Were humans.
SCOTT: Youre still drunk.
ZELDA: That doesnt keep me from seeing that young soldier-boy I married in front of me.
Youre my soldier-boy and Im your southern belle and were just happy.
ZELDA: Thats right. And if you want me to drink Coca-Cola until it comes out of my ears,
I will. But you have to listen to me.
SCOTT: Alright. Im listening.
ZELDA: Every man is just a little boy and youre my dear sweet lover. And Im drunk.
SCOTT: Yes, you are.
ZELDA: Will you take care of me, my dear sweet lover?
[Scott helps Zelda stumble off. Eliot enters with his shoebox.]
ELIOT: Isnt it a quiet beautiful night, Mr. Ulysses? Thats right. It is.
The streetlights are on, the whole city is like a big sugarplum.
Paris. Summer. Beauty. This is life. Will it ever be like this again?
[Eliot exits. Gertrude and Alice B. enter with candles.]
GERTRUDE: I think Ernie needs to be put in his place.
ALICE B: Hes just trying to be his own man.
GERTRUDE: I taught him everything he knows.
Now he waltzes in thinking hes king of the world.
ALICE B: You should just enjoy the night. Have another cocktail.
GERTRUDE: I hate cocktails. People should just drink liquor straight.
[Gertrude and Alice B. exit. Ezra and Lowrey enter with candles. Lowrey is eating something.]
LOWREY: This is fabulous.
EZRA: Its just a little something Ive been working on.
LOWREY: You are a magician, and a poet too.
EZRA: Words are like ingredients and vice versa. You learn to taste words and speak food.
LOWREY: Thats funny.
LOWREY: I thought Paris would be so perfect. I didnt think it would be so complicated.
EZRA: People are complicated.
If you want black and white, you should go see a motion picture.
LOWREY: I dont know what Im going to do.
EZRA: Maybe you need a kitten.
LOWREY: A kitten?
EZRA: It seems to have done wonders for Thomas.
He was so glum when he didnt have the cat.
LOWREY: I suppose thats a start. Maybe you can teach me how to cook.
EZRA: Id be happy to.
[They exit. Morley and Catherine enter. They are holding hands.]
MORLEY: Here we are. The end of the road.
[Pause. They look at each other.]
CATHERINE: This is Paris.
MORLEY: I know where we are.
CATHERINE: Do you know enough about my heart now?
MORLEY: You have beautiful eyes.
CATHERINE: Youre dreaming. I can see it in your eyes.
MORLEY: Maybe I am. People need dreams.
[Silence. She touches his face.]
CATHERINE: Whats in your heart?
CATHERINE: I cant kiss you.
Interlude Angel Band
A café table. Reilly Borogoves and Maxwell Perkins enter.
MAXWELL: Order the scallops, theyre fantastic here.
REILLY: Is that an order or a suggestion?
MAXWELL: I wont take it personally if you dont get the scallops.
[Pause. She looks at him with a biting stare.]
MAXWELL: I wont take it professionally if you dont get the scallops.
REILLY: This is all so complicated.
MAXWELL: What, the scallops?
REILLY: Whats with you and the scallops? Do you get a percentage?
REILLY: Its hard to be an angel for someone whos wrestling with demons.
MAXWELL: Well put. You should be a writer.
REILLY: What, and put some other poor editor through this torture?
MAXWELL: Hows Callaghans work?
REILLY: His work is fine. His soul is another matter.
MAXWELL: Is he in danger of selling it?
REILLY: I worry about him. I wonder whats going on in his heart. I see the words on paper
and theyre not just words. Theyre glimpses into a mind. I imagine this is normal, but to see it as its happening, to pore over every letter, every spot of ink, and to see when the hand gets shaky from exhaustion. Its too much.
MAXWELL: Dont lose yourself in it. You have to be their rock. We are their band of angels,
whether they know it or not.
REILLY: Its not ink anymore. Its blood, on every page. A piece of their souls.
MAXWELL: I used to be able to tell when someone pounded the keys of a typewriter from the
indentations on the paper. Some words pushed deeper than others.
[Pause. Maxwell takes Reillys hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.]
REILLY: I think Im ready to order.
MAXWELL: What are you having?
REILLY: I think Ill have the scallops.
Scene 7 A Movable Fast
Paris. Summer. Same as before. Ernest, Morley, Catherine, Lowrey, Ford, Gertrude, Alice B., Eliot, Scott and Zelda are gathered. Ezra enters with some cake.
EZRA: Dig in, everybody!
[Everyone digs in. Murmurs of approval.]
LOWREY: This is good cake.
ZELDA: Its really well done, Ezra.
MORLEY: Very well done.
ELIOT: Good show.
GERTRUDE: Youve outdone yourself.
ALICE B: This is wonderful.
[Ford mumbles something with a mouthful of cake.]
EZRA: Please, its just vanilla.
[Silence for a moment as everyone has a bite to eat.]
HEMINGWAY: You know, Morley. Ive been thinking about your stories.
MORLEY: Really? Im flattered.
HEMINGWAY: I dont think you know a damned thing about boxing.
HEMINGWAY: I think maybe it would be a good idea if we sparred a littleyou know, to teach you a lesson or two.
HEMINGWAY: We could have a match.
CATHERINE: You really shouldnt
HEMINGWAY: What do you say, Morley? Do you want to take me on?
[Silence. Morley stands up.]
MORLEY: Sure. Whatever you want, Ernie.
HEMINGWAY: Scott can be the official timekeeper.
SCOTT: Sure, Ernie. Sure.
HEMINGWAY: Well, it looks like were all set. How does three minutes sound to you?
MORLEY: Fine. Fine with me.
HEMINGWAY: Youre not going to let him cower behind you, are you?
CATHERINE: No. Im not.
HEMINGWAY: Three minutes, then. Three minutes.
ELIOT: I dont see the point in this.
HEMINGWAY: There doesnt have to be a point.
Interlude The Forlorn Hope
A café. Reilly and Max are sitting.
REILLY: So this is how it goes?
MAXWELL: People are predictably unpredictable. Writers are unpredictably predictable.
REILLY: What does that mean?
MAXWELL: I dont know. H.L. Mencken said it once and I dont think he knew
what it meant either.
REILLY: Its hard to be the guardian of a literary soul.
MAXWELL: Its a privilege, but its a responsibility, too. We make demands.
They meet the demands, sometimes. Not always. But its our work to be the shepherds.
REILLY: Im beginning to come around to that idea.
MAXWELL: We cant beat work out of them. We cant put their souls into overtime.
We cant push them or it will destroy them. All we can do is nurture them
To sustain them, when theyre down; to remind them of their humanity, when theyre on top of the world.
REILLY: Its a terrible responsibility.
MAXWELL: But wonderful. Wonderful. We are the midwives, the nursemaids, the forgotten
ones who help rear these children into maturity.
We are the ones who hold out hope to them.
REILLY: Its a forlorn hope, sometimes.
MAXWELL: Not if you do it right. Not if you remember that the most important thing is the
humanity. If we have to lose that to get somethingto make something happenthen its not worth having.
REILLY: Do you believe in happy endings?
MAXWELL: I believe in endings and I believe in happiness.
REILLY: I believe I need a drink.
MAXWELL: Youll be a writer yet.
Scene 8 The Boxer
Paris. Summer. The room has been converted into a makeshift boxing space.
The whole motley assortment is milling about, waiting for Morley.
GERTRUDE: Remember what I taught you about the upper cut.
HEMINGWAY: Ill remember. Thanks.
GERTRUDE: I taught him everything he knows.
CATHERINE: This is stupid. You dont have to prove your manliness.
HEMINGWAY: Its just good clean fun. You got your stopwatch ready, Scott?
[Scott is distracted by Zelda, who is flirting with him.]
SCOTT: Whats that? Oh, yes. The watch. Its ready to go.
LOWREY: Please dont do anything silly on my account.
MORLEY: Dont worry, I wont.
HEMINGWAY: Lets go.
[Morley and Hemingway walk up to each other slowly. They tap gloves and come out fighting. For a few moments they just dance around each other, sizing each other up. Someone opens up the door to the Brazilians.]
HEMINGWAY: You know, youd be a better fighter if youd been in the war.
But I guess that not everyone could have the guts for it.
[They freeze. Everything freezes.]
GERTRUDE: In 1917 at a place called Vimy Ridge Canadian soldiers mounted an epic assault.
For the first time in history, Canadian men fought in Canadian divisions under a Canadian flag and together they bled on Belgian soil. They say that Canada was born from the blood of Vimy Ridge. Morley Callaghan had three brothers. They all fell on Vimy Ridge, one after another in succeeding weeks. Men die, a nation is born, and the rest are left to pick up the pieces. Not everyone gets to be the brave hero here.
[The action of the fight resumes for a few moments. Morley is silent, grim. Hemingway taunts him. Scott, facing the audience looks at his stopwatch. The time is over. He looks at the watch. He says nothing.]
HEMINGWAY: How brave are you today, Morley Callaghan?
[Music. The action becomes slow motion as Morley Callaghan walks straight into Hemingway and administers a savage beating on him. Hemingway gets a few desperate shots in, but it is Morleys day. As Hemingway lies on the ground, beaten, everyone else moves in shock or disbelief. Morley remains standing, motionless. Emotionless. Scott smiles wryly. Lights fade.]
Scene 9 Under the Apple Tree
Lights. Paris. Late summer. Rain. Aftermath. Catherine and Morley.
CATHERINE: I owe you an explanation.
MORLEY: You dont owe me anything.
CATHERINE: I want to give you an explanation.
MORLEY: Thats better.
CATHERINE: Why must you be so stubborn?
CATHERINE: Theres someone else.
[Morley is silent.]
CATHERINE: You wanted to know what was in my heartwell, here it is.
I hope you understand. There was a soldier once, just a boy really.
He was never a pretty boy, but I thought he was beautiful. He went to the war. It was not a pretty war. The gas and the shells, they nearly destroyed him. He cant see, wouldnt want to see, couldnt believe that anyone could love him with his body in such a state.
He was neverI thought he was beautiful and he will always be beautiful to me, always. I promised to wait for him, until he