Milo Hastings

“ LAURA. And Ted?
KATE. [Bitterly.] What about him?
LAURA. You love him.
KATE. No, I don't, I used to love him.... But I don't any more. You can't stay crazy about a man when you give him half your salary every week. You get to hate him.... Oh, it's worse than hate. It's contempt.
LAURA. You've stuck it out so long.
KATE. Too long.
LAURA. It'll be different as soon as he strikes something.
KATE. Strikes what? Gold or oil?
LAURA. He'll find something. It takes time.
KATE. Time is the only thing I haven't got to spare. Look, I'm twenty-seven. ”

“ KEN. I don't want freedom. I want a chance to work. I want my share.... Other people have their share, and they have dogs. I don't want dogs, but I want a right to have them.
BISHOP. Your soul is poisoned with envy.
KEN. It's a short life, dad, and mine is half gone already. There is beauty; I want to enjoy it. There are good things; I want some of them. Disease and death we can't help, but poverty we can help.
BISHOP. This is Martin's influence. [Excited.] Ken, you must not turn Communist. ”

“ PRESCOTT. You have been reading sensational papers. Of course a depression gives the radicals a chance to spread their doctrines. But there isn't any cause for worry. Prosperity is always a sure cure for radicalism. And things are picking up.
BISHOP. You are probably under the common delusion that all radicals are wild-eyed foreigners.
PRESCOTT. [Bitter in his thoughts.] If it wasn't for this foolery at Washington ...
BISHOP. So was I. But I find they are not.
PRESCOTT. We should all have been out of the slump long ago.
BISHOP. Many of them--the young ones--are good American stock. ”

“ TIPPY. Eighty dollars--unimportant?
MARTIN. [Lays aside drawing, removes eyeshade and rises.] You've got me wrong if you think I've any qualms about a reunion with our blissfully-wed bourgeois comrades. Where I doubt your horse sense is in inviting Kate.
TIPPY. You can't ask a bride to attend a stag party with four men!
MARTIN. I could have dug up some other female as a shock-absorber.
TIPPY. Listen, son: a man can be a revolutionist and still mix socially with the White Guard. But a female revolutionist must either assassinate them or seduce them. ”

“ MARTIN. They jailed conscientious objectors in the last war. This time they will shoot them.
TED. Why are you Communists so afraid of war?
MARTIN. We know what starts it.--It's the army, Ted, that makes war.
TED. But this country hasn't a big standing army.
MARTIN. There are ten millions in it.
TED. You mean the unemployed?
MARTIN. That's the army that makes war these days.
TED. You radicals always say that. I don't agree with you--except about war. I think you are right about that.
MARTIN. Which is why the American Legion wants to exterminate us.
TED. They want war. But you want revolution. ”

“ Kate showed us your drawing in the New Yorker.
LAURA. We liked it a lot.
KEN. That's your toehold. When you've sold them six you'll be back to pink socialism. And soon you'll be mailing things to the Saturday Evening Post--and signing them!
LAURA. Don't rub it in, dear.
KEN. I'm not rubbing it in. I was once as radical as Martin.
TIPPY. Ken, Ken--don't exaggerate. As an architect, you must keep your perspective.
KEN. I was ready to go to Russia, wasn't I?
MARTIN. Oh yeah!
KEN. I used to get sore as a pup when people said a man was radical only because he was unemployed. But it's true. ”

“ If you love dogs, never trust them to irresponsible people. [She goes to the door and out.]
BISHOP. That woman is a fool.
TIPPY. Some of my best customers are, Bishop.
MISS DONOVAN. [Opens door and sticks her head in.] I shall ruin your business! [Closes door with a slam.]
TIPPY. Jesus! [Takes the BISHOP'S hat and coat.] Won't you be seated, sir?
BISHOP. I trust that lady is not as influential as she feels.
TIPPY. Dog lovers are gossips. But I get business by gossip as well as lose it. By gossip, sir, and perfumed soap. The art of perfuming dogs has a great future. It's an undeveloped field. ”

“ PRESCOTT. I have just returned empty-handed from a bunch of half-baked theorists who are heading us into socialism and calling it democracy!
BISHOP. With a view to your project going through, could you not take Kenneth on?
PRESCOTT. Impossible. My small staff has already done all the preparation that needs to be done. My hands are tied till these socialists in Washington are out.
BISHOP. But has not business been given a breathing spell?
PRESCOTT. I don't sell hot dogs. I build houses. ”

“ I'm a hundred per cent American. I'm an individualist. Americans are individualists. Each man got his own wife 'n' his own bed. A Russian's a collectivist. Got everybody's wife in bed.
BISHOP. Kenneth, my son!
KEN. See? My dad doesn't like Russians. Russians shot all the churches and made the priests go to work. He doesn't like you.--You read the wrong books. My dad reads Mark and Luke and John--makes him a Christian. You read Marx and Lenin and Stalin--makes you a revolutionist. Why don't you read Hearst and Hoover and make yourself an American? ”

“ The worker's back is broad, but it's not broad enough to accommodate all of us.
TED. But you're not a revolutionist?
TIPPY. Hell, no. I'm a dog washer.
[KATE enters, excited, out of breath.]
KATE. Ted--guess what! I've got a job for you!
TED. [Not believing.] A job? For me?
TIPPY. You mean that?
KATE. I do. It's nothing to brag about, but it's a job.
TIPPY. Private industry or relief?
KATE. [Indignantly.] Relief? Certainly not. It's real work.
TIPPY. With real money--that's great.
KATE. Oh, it's nothing fancy; but it'll pay enough for Ted to live better than he has been living. ”

“ The ceiling is high, the floor ancient. It serves for a sleeping as well as a living room. Off it at one end is a kitchen, at the other a small bedroom.
There is no woman's touch in the place, but in spite of its dilapidation there is a mellow and intellectual air--lent, perhaps, by the books and magazines that lie scattered about; some old college pennants on the wall; also both architectural drawings and original cartoons. There is a good architect's drawing board in use by a window and a rack containing many rolls of drawings and prints.
TED is sitting on the couch, reading an old book. ”

“ For Christ's sake, Ted, snap out of it. Get away from here. Get away from it all. Make a break. You won't starve. If you can't get a real job, go on relief.
TED. Relief!
KEN. I know relief isn't pleasant for a man like you. But hell, it's better than ...
TED. Let's not discuss it.
KEN. It's high time you did discuss it. You can't go on the way you're doing.
TED. Did I ask for your advice?
KEN. Now don't get sore. I'm trying to help you.
TED. The hell with your help!
KEN. All right. You don't want advice and you won't take it. What are you going to do? Go on living off Kate forever? ”

“ KEN. Ain't got no job.
MARTIN. Well, I mean go back to Prescott.
KEN. Didn't you hear? There is no Prescott. There is no job.
MARTIN. Yes, but there's work. And work is more important than the matter of who pays for it.
KEN. Work for the wastebasket?
MARTIN. No. Not for the wastebasket. For whatever use it may be to the world. Your work is important because you are creating something. The pay system has stalled on you, so what? If your father is able to help to keep you at work, the best you can do is to accept it. ”

“ MARTIN. You paid Ted's share of the rent last month, [KATE looks surprised.] So this month, if Ted stays here he pays not eight but sixteen dollars. And you stick eight in the savings bank for that dog laundry.
TIPPY. Now just wait a minute. I can explain last month's ...
MARTIN. I'll not wait for you to think up another kind lie. God knows I don't enjoy hurting Ted. He was born and raised a capitalist and an aristocrat. Now he is a cast-off wreck of the system that made him. I hate the system, not the men it makes--and least of all the weak ones it throws into the scrap heap. ”

“ TED. [Desperately, humiliated.] I applied for relief because I wanted a job; because the only way to get a job is to go on relief first. I haven't anything. I have no source of income.
CASE WORKER. [Sarcastic.] No income, but plenty of money? I understand!
MARTIN. I was about to explain ...
CASE WORKER. [Shortly.] You needn't. You can't bamboozle me. It's most unfortunate, isn't it, that I caught him unawares? Had he known I was coming he'd undoubtedly have dressed more correctly for the role of a relief applicant.
KATE. Oh, how dare you? ”

“ KATE. Good for Tippy! He's the only real American among you.
TIPPY. The only real American by conviction. Ted's American by innocence. He won't know there was a Russian revolution until it becomes a classic.
KATE. [Fondly] That makes him very English. [Takes TED'S book.] Is it Chaucer? Or just dear old Ben Jonson?
TED. No such luck. It's a first edition of Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises." For a man who wanted it, it's worth ten dollars.
KATE. How much did you pay for it?
TED. Fifty cents.
KATE. Swell!
TED. As long as ignorant people go into the secondhand book business ... ”

“ Keep on working at eighteen dollars a week till I'm forty?--I haven't a decent thing to wear. I haven't had a new coat in three years. [Feverishly.] And I'm frightened. Calendars frighten me.--I want to have some fun. I want a man to take me to the Ritz and--pay the check.
LAURA. I know how you feel. Don't you think that I ... What do you want me to say, Kate?
KATE. There is nothing to say.
LAURA. Look, dear. I don't say you should keep Ted. Drop him and go it alone a while. If you've been living on nine dollars a week, eighteen will seem a fortune. ”

“ KATE. You boys need his rent. As long as you get it, why can't you treat him like a gentleman? His pride is all he's got left.
[TED re-enters. Wears different tie, good fall topcoat, not new. His hat and book in his hand.]
TED. The man I think should have this book happens to be out of town. But I know someone else who might take it. I'll go and see him.
[TIPPY enters, bathrobe gone, pants on.]
MARTIN. Just a minute, Ted. I've just been told I'm butting in on something that's none of my business. So, having been accused, I'm going to justify it. ”

“ I told him that as a multimillionaire, as a captain of industry, as a pillar of capitalistic society, he ought to be ashamed of himself for robbing the widows and the orphans and taking the money out of the collection baskets of the House of God to pay an architect to draw plans for a wastebasket. ”

“ LAURA. Kate!
[KATE slams out, brushing KEN, who enters, violently aside.]
KEN. What's the matter with her?
LAURA. Nothing.
[KEN hands sugar to TIPPY and returns.]
KEN. She didn't act like it was nothing.
LAURA. She's going to leave Ted.
KEN. Good! The man's a leech.
LAURA. But he is so helpless.
KEN. He won't starve. We have no jobs in America, but we don't starve.
LAURA. Ken, are you in trouble?
KEN. In trouble?
LAURA. With your father?
KEN. No. No, indeed--I merely sent dad's check back. It's time, don't you think? [With elaborate unconcern.] And as for this arrangement here ... ”

“ The business men have all the sense. They know that an army in rags is more dangerous to them than an army in uniform. So we will wear uniforms. I just tried yours on to see how it would fit you.
TED. [Picks up the two halves out of basket and puts them together and stares at it.] No.--No. I'll never wear one. Never! [He crumples drawing and throws it back into basket, LAURA comes in from the kitchen. TED, looking for escape, goes into bedroom.] ”

“ They have millions of buildings to build, and they can't train architects fast enough. [Finds place in book.]
[KEN hesitates.]
KEN. I'm not kidding myself.--I've been doing this more to help you.
MARTIN. Listen, Ken. Even if you don't go, you should know Russian so you can read Soviet architectural journals. The years we wasted on dead languages!--Russia's alive. They're doing things, new things, big things! Russian is the language of the next great sweep in world progress. ”

“ TED. You seem satisfied with your job.
KEN. Hell yes. It's a great job. The salary isn't anything to boast of--yet. But the future looks like a million. You see, Prescott didn't hire me for any routine detail. He has men for that. ”

“ TIPPY. I must have slept a few years.
[TED removes coat and lays it on table with hat.]
KATE. Slept?
TIPPY. It looks to me like the Republican Party is back in power.
[MARTIN re-enters. He stops in astonishment.]
MARTIN. Hello.
KATE. Hello, Communist. [Indicates TED.] Does seeing Ted decently dressed make you see red?
MARTIN. [Surveying TED'S clothes.] No, indeed. The true Communist loves beauty and prosperity. His distinction is that he insists on both for everybody.
KATE. Well, I know you are prospering. I saw your drawing in the New Yorker. ”

“ Stocks are going up. Culture is coming back. More dogs are being washed. Rare books will come next.
KATE. So what?
TIPPY. Ted was born a gentleman. The rest of us merely went to Harvard.
KATE. Believe it or not.
TIPPY. Katie, the coming revolution is poppycock. What's coming is the same damn thing we used to have. And when it gets back it'll take its old darlings back into its lap. Ted is one of them. So hold his hand a little longer.
[There is a hanging against the door with a foot. TIPPY opens door, and LAURA enters with a tall sack of groceries, which she shoves into TIPPY'S arms.] ”

“ My father bought me a job because my wife told him to. I've got a smart wife. She understands business methods. We are individualists, and must have initiative. So my wife, she has initiative. She says--Ken's got to have a job so we can get married. So she explains to my father how capitalism works. Lots of competition; too many lousy architects. So got to fabricate houses and put 'em all out of a job.
MARTIN. You talk more sense drunk than sober.
KEN. Too many architects--so what? Give 'em relief work, that's what. ”