Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays
Chapter 117 : FIRST TOURIST. He's young.SECOND TOURIST. How old?FIRST TOURIST. Twenty-eight.SEC

FIRST TOURIST. He's young.

SECOND TOURIST. How old?

FIRST TOURIST. Twenty-eight.

SECOND TOURIST. Twenty-six. Fright has made him look older.

FIRST TOURIST. How much will you bet?

SECOND TOURIST. Ten to a hundred. Put it down.

FIRST TOURIST [_writing in his notebook. To the policeman_]. How did he get up there? Why don't they take him off?

POLICEMAN. They tried, but they couldn't. Our ladders are too short.

SECOND TOURIST. Has he been here long?

POLICEMAN. Two days.

FIRST TOURIST. Aha! He'll drop at night.

SECOND TOURIST. In two hours. A hundred to a hundred.

FIRST TOURIST. Put it down. [_He shouts to the man on the rock._] How are you feeling? What? I can't hear you.

UNKNOWN MAN [_in a scarcely audible voice_]. Bad, very bad.

LADY. Oh, heavens, and my husband is not here!

LITTLE GIRL [_running in_]. Papa said he'll get here in plenty of time.

He's playing chess.

LADY. Oh, heavens! Nellie, tell him he must come. I insist. But perhaps I had rather--Will he fall soon, Mr. Policeman? No? Nellie, you go. I'll stay here and keep the place for papa.

[_A tall, lanky woman of unusually independent and military appearance and a tourist dispute for the same place. The tourist, a short, quiet, rather weak man, feebly defends his rights; the woman is resolute and aggressive._]

TOURIST. But, lady, it is my place. I have been standing here for two hours.

MILITARY WOMAN. What do I care how long you have been standing here. I want this place. Do you understand? It offers a good view, and that's just what I want. Do you understand?

TOURIST [_weakly_]. It's what I want, too.

MILITARY WOMAN. I beg your pardon, what do you know about these things anyway?

TOURIST. What knowledge is required? A man will fall. That's all.

MILITARY WOMAN [_mimicking_]. "A man will fall. That's all." Won't you have the goodness to tell me whether you have ever seen a man fall? No?

Well, I did. Not one, but three. Two acrobats, one rope-walker and three aeronauts.

TOURIST. That makes six.

MILITARY WOMAN [_mimicking_]. "That makes six." Say, you are a mathematical prodigy. And did you ever see a tiger tear a woman to pieces in a zoo, right before your eyes? Eh? What? Yes, exactly. Now, I did--Please! Please!

[_The tourist steps aside, shrugging his shoulders with an air of injury, and the tall woman triumphantly takes possession of the stone she has won by her prowess. She sits down, spreading out around her her bag, handkerchief, peppermints, and medicine bottle, takes off her gloves and wipes her field-gla.s.s, glancing pleasantly on all around. Finally she turns to the lady who is waiting for her husband in the cafe_].

MILITARY WOMAN [_amiably_]. You will tire yourself out, dear. Why don't you sit down?

LADY. Oh, my, don't talk about it. My legs are as stiff as that rock there.

MILITARY WOMAN. Men are so rude nowadays. They will never give their place to a woman. Have you brought peppermints with you?

LADY [_frightened_]. No. Why? Is it necessary?

MILITARY WOMAN. When you keep looking up a long time you are bound to get sick. Sure thing. Have you spirits of ammonia? No? Good gracious, how thoughtless! How will they bring you back to consciousness when he falls? You haven't any smelling salts either, I dare say. Of course not.

Have you anybody to take care of you, seeing that you are so helpless yourself?

LADY [_frightened_]. I will tell my husband. He is in the cafe.

MILITARY WOMAN. Your husband is a brute.

POLICEMAN. Whose coat is this? Who threw this rag here?

BOY. It's mine. I spread my coat there so that he doesn't hurt himself so badly when he falls.

POLICEMAN. Take it away.

[_Two tourists armed with cameras contending for the same position._]

FIRST TOURIST. I wanted this place.

SECOND TOURIST. You wanted it, but I got it.

FIRST TOURIST. You just came here. I have had this place for two days.

SECOND TOURIST. Then why did you go without even leaving your shadow?

FIRST TOURIST. I wasn't going to starve myself to death.

COMB-VENDER [_mysteriously_]. Tortoise-sh.e.l.l.

TOURIST [_savagely_]. Well?

VENDOR. Genuine tortoise-sh.e.l.l.

TOURIST. Go to the devil.

THIRD TOURIST, PHOTOGRAPHER. For heaven's sake, lady, you're sitting on my camera!

LITTLE LADY. Oh! Where is it?