ALSO BY EDWARD ALBEE
The Zoo Story
The Death of Bessie Smith
The Sandbox
Fam and Yam
The American Dream
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
The Ballad of the Sad Café
Tiny Alice
Malcolm
A Delicate Balance
Everything in the Garden
Box and Quotations from Mao Tse-Tung
All Over
Seascape
Listening
Counting the Ways
The Lady from Dubuque
The Man Who Had Three Arms
Marriage Play
Finding the Sun
Three Tall Women
Fragments—A Concerto Grosso
The Play about the Baby
Occupant
CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that performance of THE GOAT OR WHO IS SYLVIA? is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright Convention, the Universal Copyright Convention, the Berne Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including professional/amateur stage rights, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound recording, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as CD-ROM, CD-I, DVD, information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved. Particular emphasis is placed upon the matter of readings, permission for which must be secured from the Author’s agent in writing.
The stage performance rights in THE GOAT OR WHO IS SYLVIA? (other than first class rights) are controlled exclusively by Dramatists Play Service, Inc., 440 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10016.
Inquiries concerning all other rights should be addressed to William Morris Agency, 1325 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10019. Attn: George Lane
Copyright
First published in paperback in the United States in 2005 by
The Overlook Press, Peter Mayer Publishers, Inc., New York, NY
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Copyright © 2000 by Edward Albee
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.
ISBN 978-1-4683-0752-8
For Liz McCann
—because
Contents
Also by Edward Albee
Copyright
Dedication
Scene One
Scene Two
Scene Three
The Goat had its world premiere in New York City on March 10, 2002, at the Golden Theatre, produced by Elizabeth Ireland McCann, Daryl Roth, Carole Shorenstein Hays, Terry Allen Kramer, Scott Rudin, Bob Boyett, Scott Nederlander, and Sine/ZPI. It was directed by David Esbjornson, with the following cast:
Stevie
Mercedes Ruehl
Martin
Bill Pullman
Ross
Stephen Rowe
Billy
Jeffrey Carlson
The scenic design was by John Arnone, costume design by Elizabeth Hope Clancy, lighting design by Kenneth Posner, and sound design by Mark Bennett. The production stage manager was Erica Schwartz. The general manager was Joey Parnes. The company manager was Elizabeth Blitzer. The casting was done by Bernard Telsey Casting. The press representative was Sam Rudy of Shirley Herz Associates.
On September 13, 2002, the roles of Stevie and Martin were taken over by Sally Field and Bill Irwin, respectively.
Scene One
(The living room)
(STEVIE onstage, arranging flowers)
STEVIE
(Calling offstage) What time are they coming? (No response) Martin? What time are they coming?
MARTIN
(Offstage) What? (Entering) What?
STEVIE
(A little smile; a slowish statement) What … time … are … they … coming.
MARTIN
Who? (Recalling) Oh! Oh. (Looks at watch) Soon; very soon. Why can’t I remember anything?
STEVIE
(Finishing flowers) Why can’t you remember?
MARTIN
Anything; nothing; can’t remember a thing. This morning—so far!—I couldn’t remember where I’d put the new head for the razor; I couldn’t recall Ross’s son’s name—still can’t; two cards in my jacket make no sense to me whatever, and I’m not sure I know why I came in here.
STEVIE
Todd.
MARTIN
What?
STEVIE
Ross’s son is called Todd.
MARTIN
(Slaps his forehead) Right! Why the flowers?
STEVIE
To brighten up the corner …
MARTIN
… where you are? Where I am?
STEVIE
… where you’ll probably be sitting, to make the cameras happy.
MARTIN
(Smelling the flowers) What are they?
STEVIE
Cameras?
MARTIN
No; these.
STEVIE
Ranunculus. I (Then) I: ranunculi.
MARTIN
Pretty. Why don’t they smell?
STEVIE
They’re secretive; probably too subtle for your forgetful nose.
MARTIN
(Shakes his head, mock concern) Every sense going! Taste next! Touch; hearing. Hah! Hearing!
STEVIE
What?
MARTIN
What?
STEVIE
And to think you’re only fifty. Did you find it?
MARTIN
What?
STEVIE
The new head for the razor.
MARTIN
Right! A new head! I’ll need that next—the whole thing.
STEVIE
Why did you want to remember Todd’s name?
MARTIN
Well, to begin with, I shouldn’t be forgetting it, and when Ross shows up and he asks about Billy I can’t say “He’s fine; how’s … you know … your son …”
STEVIE
Todd.
MARTIN
Todd. “How’s old Todd?”
STEVIE
Young Todd.
MARTIN
Yes. It’s the little slips.
STEVIE
I wouldn’t worry about it. Are you going to offer them stuff? Coffee? Beer?
MARTIN
(Preoccupied) Probably. Do you think it means anything?
STEVIE
I don’t know what “it” is.
MARTIN
That I can’t remember anything.
STEVIE
Probably not: you have too much to remember, that’s all. You could go in for a checkup … if you can remember our doctor’s name.
MARTIN
(Nailing it) Percy!
<
br /> STEVIE
Right!
MARTIN
(To himself) Who could forget that? Nobody has a doctor named Percy. (To STEVIE) What’s the matter with me?
STEVIE
You’re fifty.
MARTIN
No; more than that.
STEVIE
The old foreboding? The sense that everything going right is a sure sign that everything’s going wrong, of all the awful to come? All that?
MARTIN
(Rueful) Probably. Why did I come in here?
STEVIE
I heard you in the hall; I called you.
MARTIN
Aha.
STEVIE
What’s my name?
MARTIN
Pardon?
STEVIE
Who am I? Who am I?
MARTIN
(Acted) You’re the love of my life, the mother of my handsome and worrisome son, my playmate, my cook, my bottlewasher. Do you?
STEVIE
What?
MARTIN
Wash my bottles?
STEVIE
(Puzzles it) Not as a habit. I may have—washed one of your bottles. Do you have bottles?
MARTIN
Everyone has bottles.
STEVIE
Right. But what’s my name?
MARTIN
(Pretending confusion) Uh … Stevie?
STEVIE
Good. Will this be a long one?
MARTIN
A long what?
STEVIE
Interview.
MARTIN
The usual, I guess. Ross said it wasn’t going to be a feature—sort of a catch-up.
STEVIE
On your fiftieth.
MARTIN
(Nods) On my fiftieth. I wonder if I should tell him that my mind’s going? If I can remember.
STEVIE
(Laughs; hugs him from behind) Your mind’s not going.
MARTIN
My what?
STEVIE
Your mind, darling; it’s not going … anywhere.
MARTIN
(Serious) Am I too young for Alzheimer’s?
STEVIE
Probably. Isn’t it nice to be too young for something?
MARTIN
(Mind elsewhere) Um-hum.
STEVIE
The joke is, if you can remember what it’s called you don’t have it.
MARTIN
Have what?
STEVIE
Alz … (they both laugh; he kisses her forehead) Oh, you know how to turn a girl on! Forehead kisses! (Sniffs him) Where have you been?
MARTIN
(Releases her; preoccupied) What time are they coming?
STEVIE
Soon, you said; very soon.
MARTIN
I did? Good.
STEVIE
Did you find it?
MARTIN
What?
STEVIE
The head for your razor.
MARTIN
No; it’s around somewhere. (Fishes in a pocket, brings out cards) But these! Now these! What the hell are these!? “Basic Services, Limited.” Basic Services, Limited?? Limited to what!? (The other card) “Clarissa Atherton.” (Shrugs) Clarissa Atherton? No number, no … internet thing? Clarissa Atherton?
STEVIE
Basic services? Clarissa Atherton, basic services?
MARTIN
Hm? Every time someone gives me one of these, I know I’m supposed to give them one back, and I don’t have them. It’s embarrassing.
STEVIE
I’ve told you to have them made … cards.
MARTIN
I don’t want to.
STEVIE
Then don’t. Who is she?
MARTIN
Who?
STEVIE
Clarissa Atherton, basic services. Does she smell funny?
MARTIN
I don’t know. (Afterthought) I don’t know who she is, as far as I know. Where were we this week?
STEVIE
(Overly casual; stretches) Oh, it doesn’t matter sweetie. If you’re seeing this Atherton woman, this … dominatrix … who smells funny …
MARTIN
How could I be seeing her—whoever she is? There’s nothing on the card. Dominatrix!?
STEVIE
Why not?
MARTIN
Maybe you know things I don’t.
STEVIE
Maybe.
MARTIN
And I probably know one or two things you don’t.
STEVIE
It evens out.
MARTIN
Yes. Do I look OK?
STEVIE
For the TV? Yes.
MARTIN
Yes. (Turning) Really?
STEVIE
I said: yes; fine. (Indicates) The old prep school tie?
MARTIN
(Genuine, as he looks) Is it? Oh, yeah; so it is.
STEVIE
(Not letting him have it) No one puts on their prep school tie by accident. No one.
MARTIN
(Considers) What if you can’t remember that’s what it is?
STEVIE
No one!! If you do get Alzheimer’s, and you get to the stage you don’t know who I am, who Billy is, who you are, for that matter …
MARTIN
Billy?
STEVIE
(Laughs) Stop it! When you get to the point you can’t remember anything, someone will hand you that (indicates his tie) and you’ll look at it and you’ll say (terrible imitation of aged man) “Ahhhhh! My prep school tie! My prep school tie!”
(They chuckle; the doorbell rings/chimes)
MARTIN
Ah! Doom time!
STEVIE
(Quite matter of fact) If you are seeing that woman, I think we’d better talk about it.
MARTIN
(Stops. Long pause; matter of fact) If I were … we would.
STEVIE
(As offhand as possible) If not the dominatrix, then some blonde half your age, some … chippie, as they used to call them …
MARTIN
… or, worst of all, someone just like you? As bright; as resourceful; as intrepid; … merely … new?
STEVIE
(Warm smile; shake of head) You win ’em all, don’t you.
MARTIN
(Same smile) Enough.
(Door again. The next several speeches are done in a greatly exaggerated Noel Coward manner: English accents, flamboyant gestures)
STEVIE
Something’s going on, isn’t it!?
MARTIN
Yes! I’ve fallen in love!
STEVIE
I knew it!
MARTIN
Hopelessly!
STEVIE
I knew it!
MARTIN
I fought against it!
STEVIE
Oh, you poor darling!
MARTIN
Fought hard!
STEVIE
I suppose you’d better tell me!
MARTIN
I can’t! I can’t!
STEVIE
Tell me! Tell me!
MARTIN
Her name is Sylvia!
STEVIE
Sylvia? Who is Sylvia?
MARTIN
She’s a goat; Sylvia is a goat! (Acting manner dropped; normal tone now; serious, flat) She’s a goat.
STEVIE
(Long pause; she stares, finally smiles. She giggles, chortles, moves toward the hall; normal tone) You’re too much! (Exits)
MARTIN
I am? (Shrugs; to himself) You try to tell them; you try to be honest. What do they do? They laugh at you. (Imitation) “You’re too much!” (Thinks about it) I suppose I am.
ROSS
Hey honey.
STEVIE
Hi Ross. (ROSS enters with STEVIE)
ROSS
Hello there, old man!
MARTIN
I’m fifty!
ROSS
It’s a term of endearment. Nice flowers.
MARTIN
It is?
ROSS
What? What is?
MARTIN
“Hello there, old man.” Ranunculi.
ROSS
Pardon?
STEVIE
The proper plural of ranunculus—the flowers, according to old Martin here.
MARTIN
Some say ranunculuses, but that sounds wrong, even though it’s probably perfectly acceptable.
ROSS
(Not interested) Aha! Let’s move that chair over to the … whatever they are … the flowers. (To MARTIN) Are you happy in that chair?
MARTIN
Am I happy in it? I don’t even know if I’ve ever sat in it. (To STEVIE) Have I? Have I ever sat in it?
STEVIE
You just did, and you sat in it the last time Ross did the program with you.
ROSS
That’s right!
MARTIN
Yes … but was I happy? Did I sit there and did contentment bathe me in its warm light?
ROSS
You got me, fella.
STEVIE
Yes; contentment fell; you sat there and I watched it bathe you in its warm light. I’ve got to go.
MARTIN
Where are you going?
STEVIE
(No information) Out.
MARTIN
Are we in tonight?
STEVIE
Yes. I think Billy’s going out.
MARTIN
Naturally!
STEVIE
We’re in. (Glee) TV time! I’m getting my hair done, and then I thought I’d stop by the feed store. (Exits, giggling)