The Skin of Our Teeth Read online

  HENRY:

  There’s a boat out at the end of the pier.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Well, keep your eye on it. George, you shut your eyes and get a good rest before the broadcast.

  ANTROBUS:

  Thundering Judas, do I have to be told when to open and shut my eyes? Go and buy your raincoats.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Now, children, you have ten minutes to walk around. Ten minutes. And, Henry: control yourself. Gladys, stick by your brother and don’t get lost.

  They run off.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Will you be all right, George?

  CONVEENERS suddenly stick their heads out of the Bingo Parlor and Salt Water Taffy store, and voices rise from the orchestra pit.

  CONVEENERS:

  George. Geo-r-r-rge! George! Leave the old hen-coop at home, George. Do-mes-ticated Georgie!

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Shaking her umbrella.

  Low common oafs! That’s what they are. Guess a man has a right to bring his wife to a convention, if he wants to.

  She starts off.

  What’s the matter with a family, I’d like to know. What else have they got to offer?

  Exit. ANTROBUS has closed his eyes. The FORTUNE TELLER comes out of her shop and goes over to the left proscenium. She leans against it watching SABINA quizzically.

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  Heh! Here she comes!

  SABINA:

  Loud whisper.

  What’s he doing?

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  Oh, he’s ready for you. Bite your lips, dear, take a long breath and come on up.

  SABINA:

  I’m nervous. My whole future depends on this. I’m nervous.

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  Don’t be a fool. What more could you want? He’s forty-five. His head’s a little dizzy. He’s just been elected president. He’s never known any other woman than his wife. Whenever he looks at her he realizes that she knows every foolish thing he’s ever done.

  SABINA:

  Still whispering.

  I don’t know why it is, but every time I start one of these I’m nervous.

  The FORTUNE TELLER stands in the center of the stage watching the following:

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  You make me tired.

  SABINA:

  First tell me my fortune.

  The FORTUNE TELLER laughs drily and makes the gesture of brushing away a nonsensical question. SABINA coughs and says:

  Oh, Mr. Antrobus,—dare I speak to you for a moment?

  ANTROBUS:

  What?—Oh, certainly, certainly, Miss Fairweather.

  SABINA:

  Mr. Antrobus . . . I’ve been so unhappy. I’ve wanted . . . I’ve wanted to make sure that you don’t think that I’m the kind of girl who goes out for beauty contests.

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  That’s the way!

  ANTROBUS:

  Oh, I understand. I understand perfectly.

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  Give it a little more. Lean on it.

  SABINA:

  I knew you would. My mother said to me this morning: Lily, she said, that fine Mr. Antrobus gave you the prize because he saw at once that you weren’t the kind of girl who’d go in for a thing like that. But, honestly, Mr. Antrobus, in this world, honestly, a good girl doesn’t know where to turn.

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  Now you’ve gone too far.

  ANTROBUS:

  My dear Miss Fairweather!

  SABINA:

  You wouldn’t know how hard it is. With that lovely wife and daughter you have. Oh, I think Mrs. Antrobus is the finest woman I ever saw. I wish I were like her.

  ANTROBUS:

  There, there. There’s . . . uh . . . room for all kinds of people in the world, Miss Fairweather.

  SABINA:

  How wonderful of you to say that. How generous!—Mr. Antrobus, have you a moment free? . . . I’m afraid I may be a little conspicuous here . . . could you come down, for just a moment, to my beach cabana . . . ?

  ANTROBUS:

  Why-uh . . . yes, certainly . . . for a moment . . . just for a moment.

  SABINA:

  There’s a deck chair there. Because: you know you do look tired. Just this morning my mother said to me: Lily, she said, I hope Mr. Antrobus is getting a good rest. His fine strong face has deep deep lines in it. Now isn’t it true, Mr. Antrobus: you work too hard?

  FORTUNE TELLER:

  Bingo!

  She goes into her shop.

  SABINA:

  Now you will just stretch out. No, I shan’t say a word, not a word. I shall just sit there,—privileged. That’s what I am.

  ANTROBUS:

  Taking her hand.

  Miss Fairweather . . . you’ll . . . spoil me.

  SABINA:

  Just a moment. I have something I wish to say to the audience.—Ladies and gentlemen. I’m not going to play this particular scene tonight. It’s just a short scene and we’re going to skip it. But I’ll tell you what takes place and then we can continue the play from there on. Now in this scene—

  ANTROBUS:

  Between his teeth.

  But, Miss Somerset!

  SABINA:

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But I have to skip it. In this scene, I talk to Mr. Antrobus, and at the end of it he decides to leave his wife, get a divorce at Reno and marry me. That’s all.

  ANTROBUS:

  Fitz!—Fitz!

  SABINA:

  So that now I’ve told you we can jump to the end of it,—where you say:

  Enter in fury MR. FITZPATRICK, the stage manager.

  MR. FITZPATRICK:

  Miss Somerset, we insist on your playing this scene.

  SABINA:

  I’m sorry, Mr. Fitzpatrick, but I can’t and I won’t. I’ve told the audience all they need to know and now we can go on.

  Other ACTORS begin to appear on the stage, listening.

  MR. FITZPATRICK:

  And why can’t you play it?

  SABINA:

  Because there are some lines in that scene that would hurt some people’s feelings and I don’t think the theatre is a place where people’s feelings ought to be hurt.

  MR. FITZPATRICK:

  Miss Somerset, you can pack up your things and go home. I shall call the understudy and I shall report you to Equity.

  SABINA:

  I sent the understudy up to the corner for a cup of coffee and if Equity tries to penalize me I’ll drag the case right up to the Supreme Court. Now listen, everybody, there’s no need to get excited.

  MR. FITZPATRICK AND ANTROBUS:

  Why can’t you play it . . . what’s the matter with the scene?

  SABINA:

  Well, if you must know, I have a personal guest in the audience tonight. Her life hasn’t been exactly a happy one. I wouldn’t have my friend hear some of these lines for the whole world. I don’t suppose it occurred to the author that some other women might have gone through the experience of losing their husbands like this. Wild horses wouldn’t drag from me the details of my friend’s life, but . . . well, they’d been married twenty years, and before he got rich, why, she’d done the washing and everything.

  MR. FITZPATRICK:

  Miss Somerset, your friend will forgive you. We must play this scene.

  SABINA:

  Nothing, nothing will make me say some of those lines . . . about “a man outgrows a wife every seven years” and . . . and that one about “the Mohammedans being the only people who looked the subject square in the face.” Nothing.

  MR. FITZPATRICK:

  Miss Somerset! Go to your dressing room. I’ll read your lines.

  SABINA:

  Now everybody’s nerves are on edge.

  MR. ANTROBUS:

  Skip the scene.

  MR. FITZPATRICK and the other ACTORS go off.

  SABINA:

  Thank you. I knew you’d understand. We’ll do just what
I said. So Mr. Antrobus is going to divorce his wife and marry me. Mr. Antrobus, you say: “It won’t be easy to lay all this before my wife.”

  The ACTORS withdraw. ANTROBUS walks about, his hand to his forehead muttering:

  ANTROBUS:

  Wait a minute. I can’t get back into it as easily as all that. “My wife is a very obstinate woman.” Hm . . . then you say . . . hm . . . Miss Fairweather, I mean Lily, it won’t be easy to lay all this before my wife. It’ll hurt her feelings a little.

  SABINA:

  Listen, George: other people haven’t got feelings. Not in the same way that we have,—we who are presidents like you and prize-winners like me. Listen, other people haven’t got feelings; they just imagine they have. Within two weeks they go back to playing bridge and going to the movies.

  Listen, dear: everybody in the world except a few people like you and me are just people of straw. Most people have no insides at all. Now that you’re president you’ll see that. Listen, darling, there’s a kind of secret society at the top of the world,—like you and me,—that know this. The world was made for us. What’s life anyway? Except for two things, pleasure and power, what is life? Boredom! Foolishness. You know it is. Except for those two things, life’s nau-se-at-ing. So,—come here!

  She moves close. They kiss.

  So.

  Now when your wife comes, it’s really very simple; just tell her.

  ANTROBUS:

  Lily, Lily: you’re a wonderful woman.

  SABINA:

  Of course I am.

  They enter the cabana and it hides them from view. Distant roll of thunder. A third black disk appears on the weather signal. Distant thunder is heard. MRS. ANTROBUS appears carrying parcels. She looks about, seats herself on the bench left, and fans herself with her handkerchief. Enter GLADYS right, followed by two CONVEENERS. She is wearing red stockings.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Gladys!

  GLADYS:

  Mama, here I am.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Gladys Antrobus!!! Where did you get those dreadful things?

  GLADYS:

  Wha-a-t? Papa liked the color.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  You go back to the hotel this minute!

  GLADYS:

  I won’t. I won’t. Papa liked the color.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  All right. All right. You stay here. I’ve a good mind to let your father see you that way. You stay right here.

  GLADYS:

  I . . . I don’t want to stay if . . . if you don’t think he’d like it.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Oh . . . it’s all one to me. I don’t care what happens. I don’t care if the biggest storm in the whole world comes. Let it come.

  She folds her hands.

  Where’s your brother?

  GLADYS:

  In a small voice.

  He’ll be here.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Will he? Well, let him get into trouble. I don’t care. I don’t know where your father is, I’m sure.

  Laughter from the cabana.

  GLADYS:

  Leaning over the rail.

  I think he’s . . . Mama, he’s talking to the lady in the red dress.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Is that so?

  Pause.

  We’ll wait till he’s through. Sit down here beside me and stop fidgeting . . . what are you crying about?

  Distant thunder. She covers GLADYS’ stockings with a raincoat.

  GLADYS:

  You don’t like my stockings.

  Two CONVEENERS rush in with a microphone on a standard and various paraphernalia. The FORTUNE TELLER appears at the door of her shop. Other characters gradually gather.

  BROADCAST OFFICIAL:

  Mrs. Antrobus! Thank God we’ve found you at last. Where’s Mr. Antrobus? We’ve been hunting everywhere for him. It’s about time for the broadcast to the conventions of the world.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Calm.

  I expect he’ll be here in a minute.

  BROADCAST OFFICIAL:

  Mrs. Antrobus, if he doesn’t show up in time, I hope you will consent to broadcast in his place. It’s the most important broadcast of the year.

  SABINA enters from cabana followed by ANTROBUS.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  No, I shan’t. I haven’t one single thing to say.

  BROADCAST OFFICIAL:

  Then won’t you help us find him, Mrs. Antrobus? A storm’s coming up. A hurricane. A deluge!

  SECOND CONVEENER:

  Who has sighted ANTROBUS over the rail.

  Joe! Joe! Here he is.

  BROADCAST OFFICIAL:

  In the name of God, Mr. Antrobus, you’re on the air in five minutes. Will you kindly please come and test the instrument? That’s all we ask. If you just please begin the alphabet slowly.

  ANTROBUS, with set face, comes ponderously up the ramp. He stops at the point where his waist is level with the stage and speaks authoritatively to the OFFICIALS.

  ANTROBUS:

  I’ll be ready when the time comes. Until then, move away. Go away. I have something I wish to say to my wife.

  BROADCASTING OFFICIAL:

  Whimpering.

  Mr. Antrobus! This is the most important broadcast of the year.

  The OFFICIALS withdraw to the edge of the stage. SABINA glides up the ramp behind ANTROBUS.

  SABINA:

  Whispering.

  Don’t let her argue. Remember arguments have nothing to do with it.

  ANTROBUS:

  Maggie, I’m moving out of the hotel. In fact, I’m moving out of everything. For good. I’m going to marry Miss Fair-weather. I shall provide generously for you and the children. In a few years you’ll be able to see that it’s all for the best. That’s all I have to say.

  BROADCAST OFFICAL:

  BINGO ANNOUNCER:

  Mr. Antrobus! I hope you’ll be ready. This is the most important broadcast of the year.

  A—nine; A—nine. D—forty-two; D—forty-two. C—thirty; C-thirty. B—seventeen; B—seventeen. C—forty; C-forty.

  GLADYS:

  CHORUS:

  What did Papa say, Mama? I didn’t hear what papa said.

  Bingo!

  BROADCAST OFFICIAL:

  Mr. Antrobus. All we want to do is test your voice with the alphabet.

  ANTROBUS:

  Go away. Clear out.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Composedly with lowered eyes.

  George, I can’t talk to you until you wipe those silly red marks off your face.

  ANTROBUS:

  I think there’s nothing to talk about. I’ve said what I have to say.

  SABINA:

  Splendid!

  ANTROBUS:

  You’re a fine woman, Maggie, but . . . but a man has his own life to lead in the world.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Well, after living with you for five thousand years I guess I have a right to a word or two, haven’t I?

  ANTROBUS:

  To SABINA.

  What can I answer to that?

  SABINA:

  Tell her that conversation would only hurt her feelings. It’s-kinder-in-the-long-run-to-do-it-short-and-quick.

  ANTROBUS:

  I want to spare your feelings in every way I can, Maggie.

  BROADCAST OFFICIAL:

  Mr. Antrobus, the hurricane signal’s gone up. We could begin right now.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Calmly, almost dreamily.

  I didn’t marry you because you were perfect. I didn’t even marry you because I loved you. I married you because you gave me a promise.

  She takes off her ring and looks at it.

  That promise made up for your faults. And the promise I gave you made up for mine. Two imperfect people got married and it was the promise that made the marriage.

  ANTROBUS:

  Maggie, . . . I was only nineteen.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

/>   She puts her ring back on her finger.

  And when our children were growing up, it wasn’t a house that protected them; and it wasn’t our love, that protected them—it was that promise.

  And when that promise is broken—this can happen!

  With a sweep of the hand she removes the raincoat from GLADYS’ stockings.

  ANTROBUS:

  Stretches out his arm, apoplectic.

  Gladys!! Have you gone crazy? Has everyone gone crazy?

  Turning on SABINA.

  You did this. You gave them to her.

  SABINA:

  I never said a word to her.

  ANTROBUS:

  To GLADYS.

  You go back to the hotel and take those horrible things off.

  GLADYS:

  Pert.

  Before I go, I’ve got something to tell you,—it’s about Henry.

  MRS. ANTROBUS:

  Claps her hands peremptorily.

  Stop your noise,—I’m taking her back to the hotel, George. Before I go I have a letter. . . . I have a message to throw into the ocean.

  Fumbling in her handbag.

  Where is the plagued thing? Here it is.

  She flings something—invisible to us—far over the heads of the audience to the back of the auditorium.

  It’s a bottle. And in the bottle’s a letter. And in the letter is written all the things that a woman knows.

  It’s never been told to any man and it’s never been told to any woman, and if it finds its destination, a new time will come. We’re not what books and plays say we are. We’re not what advertisements say we are. We’re not in the movies and we’re not on the radio.

  We’re not what you’re all told and what you think we are:

  We’re ourselves. And if any man can find one of us he’ll learn why the whole universe was set in motion. And if any man harm any one of us, his soul—the only soul he’s got—had better be at the bottom of that ocean,—and that’s the only way to put it. Gladys, come here. We’re going back to the hotel.

  She drags GLADYS firmly off by the hand, but GLADYS breaks away and comes down to speak to her father.

  SABINA:

  Such goings-on. Don’t give it a minute’s thought.

  GLADYS:

  Anyway, I think you ought to know that Henry hit a man with a stone. He hit one of those colored men that push the chairs and the man’s very sick. Henry ran away and hid and some policemen are looking for him very hard. And I don’t care a bit if you don’t want to have anything to do with mama and me, because I’ll never like you again and I hope nobody ever likes you again,—so there!