The America Play
English and American Drama
1.Romeo and Juliet
William Shakespeare
【简介与赏析】
威廉·莎士比亚（William Shakespeare，1564—1616），英国文艺复兴时期伟大的剧作家、诗人，生于英格兰沃里克郡斯特拉福镇。少时就读于一所文法学校，后游历伦敦，做过剧院杂役、演员等。1588年左右开始戏剧改编、创作，剧作有历史剧、悲剧、喜剧等37部。
莎翁创作早期属伊丽莎白一世统治时期，国势鼎盛，故剧作多历史剧、喜剧，歌颂英国历史与开明君主，表现市民生活，彰显人文理想，笔调轻快、情致乐观。名作有历史剧《理查三世》（1592），《亨利四世》（上下集，1597—1598）和《亨利五世》（1599），喜剧《仲夏夜之梦》（1596），《威尼斯商人》（1597），《温莎的风流娘儿们》（1598），《无事生非》（1599）和《第十二夜》（1600）等。中期正值17世纪初，王权交替，社会矛盾激化，丑恶日显，故剧作多表现为现实主义悲剧，揭露社会腐败现象，批判社会黑暗。名作有四大悲剧《哈姆雷特》（1601）、《奥赛罗》（1604）、《李尔王》（1606）、《麦克白》（1606），笔调阴郁、感情悲愤，但形象丰满、语言纯熟。1608年后，进入创作晚期，转写传奇剧，以梦幻世界寄寓人文理想，浪漫情调浓郁，名作有《暴风雨》（1611）等。莎翁还写过154首十四行诗、2首长诗。
莎翁被公誉为“英国戏剧之父”、“人类文学奥林匹斯山上的宙斯”，著名戏剧家本·琼森称其为“时代的灵魂”，马克思称其为“人类最伟大的天才之一”。另外，其诞辰与逝世日（同为4月23日）被确定为世界图书与版权日。
《罗密欧与朱丽叶》
《罗密欧与朱丽叶》（1597，创作于1591至1595年间）是莎翁著名爱情悲剧，全名为The Most Excellent and Lamentable Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet，改编自意大利民间故事。在莎翁之前已有Arthur Brooke的诗作The Tragical History of Romeo and Juliet（1562）与William Painter的小说Palace of Pleasure（1582）。讲述维罗纳城中蒙太古与凯普莱特两大家族世代为仇，但其儿女罗密欧与朱丽叶却一见钟情，后双双殉情的故事。两人迫于家族仇恨，秘密举行了婚礼。后罗密欧因替友复仇刺死了朱丽叶的表哥而被放逐，朱丽叶被逼婚，遂服药装死。罗密欧赶回，不明真相，自杀殉情。朱丽叶苏醒后，见爱人已死，也在悲痛中结束了自己的生命。本书所选第三幕第五场是罗密欧被放逐前一晚潜入朱丽叶闺房的场景。
莎翁在本剧中运用了转换悲喜剧、穿插次要情节等戏剧手法，以凸显戏剧张力。全剧主要以素体诗（blank verse，一称无韵诗）写成，但根据人物性格、剧情发展使用了彼特拉克十四行诗（Petrarchan sonnet）、莎士比亚十四行诗（Shakespearean sonnet）、颂歌（epithalamium）、挽歌（elegy）、狂歌（rhapsody）等诗体，并大量使用双关（pun）以增强幽默效果。对于本剧主题，评论家意见不一，但本剧主要探讨了爱情、命运、时间等主题。相比其中后期剧作，本剧人物形象不够丰满，剧情亦不甚严谨，悲剧归于偶然而非必然。另外，本剧与《哈姆雷特》同为莎翁的上演次数最多的剧作，自问世以来曾无数次被改编成歌剧、交响曲、芭蕾舞剧、电影及电视作品、动画等。
【剧本选读】
Characters
Romeo：the son and heir of Montague and Lady Montague，ayoung man of about sixteen
Juliet：the daughter of Capulet and Lady Capulet，a beautiful thirteen－year－old girl
The Nurse：Juliet’s nurse，the woman who breast－fed Juliet when she was a baby and will care for Juliet in her entire life
Lady Capulet：Juliet’s mother，Capulet’s wife
Capulet：the patriarch of the Capulet family，father of Juliet，husband of Lady Capulet，and enemy，for unexplained reasons，of Montague
ACTⅢ SCENEⅤ
Capulet’s Orchard.
Enter ROMEO and JULIET aloft［with the ladder of cords］
JULIET
Wilt thou be gone？It is not yet near day.
It was the nightingale，and not the lark，
That pierced the fear－full hollow of thine ear.
Nightly she sings on yon pom’granate tree.
Believe me，love，it was the nightingale.①
ROMEO
It was the lark，the herald of the morn，
No nightingale.look，love，what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
Night’s candles are burnt out，and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I must be gone and live，or stay and die.②
JULIET
Yon light is not day light；I know it，I.
It is some meteor that the sun exhaled
To be to thee this night a torch bearer
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
Therefore stay yet，thou need’st not to be gone.③
ROMEO
Let me be ta’en，let me be put to death.
I am content，so thou wilt have it so.
I’ll say yon grey is not the morning’s eye，
’Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia’s brow；
Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay than will to go.
Come，death，and welcome；Juliet wills it so.
How is’t，my soul？let’s talk.It is not day.④
JULIET
It is，it is.Hie hence，be gone，away.
It is the lark that sings so out of tune，
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division；
This doth not so，for she divideth us.
Some say the lark and loathèd toad change eyes.
O，now I would they had changed voices，too，
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray，
Hunting thee hence with hunt’s－up to the day.
O，now be gone！more light and light it grows.⑤
ROMEO
More light and light，more dark and dark our woes.
Enter NURSE hastily
NURSE
Madam.
JULIET
Nurse.
NURSE
Your lady mother is coming to your chamber.
The day is broke；be wary，look about.
Exit
JULIET
Then，window，let day in，and let life out.
ROMEO
Farewell，farewell！One kiss，and I’ll descend.
He［lets down the ladder of cords and］goes down
JULIET
Art thou gone so，love，lord，my husband，friend？
I must hear from thee every day in the hour，
For in a minute there are many days.
O，by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo.⑥
ROMEO
Farewell.
I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings，love，to thee.
JULIET
O，think’st thou we shall ever meet again？
ROMEO
I doubt it not，and all these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come.
JULIET
O God，I have an ill－divining soul！
Methinks I see thee，now thou art so low，
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Either my eyesight fails，or thou look’st pale.⑦
ROMEO
And trust me，love，in my eye so do you.
Dry sorrow drinks our blood.Adieu，adieu.
Exit
JULIET［pulling up the ladder and weeping］
O fortune，fortune，all men call thee fickle.
If thou art fickle，what dost thou with him
That is renowned for faith？Be fickle，fortune，
For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long，
But send him back.⑧
Enter［LADY CAPULET below］
LADY CAPULET
Ho，daughter，are you up？
JULIET
Who is’t that calls？is it my lady mother？
Is she not down so late，or up so early？
What unaccustomed cause procures her hither？⑨
She goes down［and enters below］
LADY CAPULET
Why，how now，Juliet！
JULIET
Madam，I am not well.
LADY CAPULET
Evermore weeping for your cousin’s death？
What，wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears？
An if thou couldst，thou couldst not make him live，
Therefore have done.Some grief shows much of love，
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.⑩
JULIET
Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
LADY CAPULET
So shall you feel the loss，but not the friend
Which you so weep for.
JULIET
Feeling so the loss，
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
LADY CAPULET
Well，girl，thou weep’st not so much for his death
As that the villain lives which slaughtered him.
JULIET
What villain，madam？
LADY CAPULET
That same villain Romeo.
JULIET
［aside］Villain and he be many miles asunder—
［To her mother］God Pardon him—I do，with all my heart，
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
LADY CAPULET
That is because the traitor murderer lives.
JULIET
Ay，madam，from the reach of these my hands.
Would none but I might venge my cousin’s death！
LADY CAPULET
We will have vengeance for it，fear thou not.
Then weep no more.I’ll send to one in Mantua，
Where that same banished runagate doth live，
Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company；
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
JULIET
Indeed，I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo till I behold him，dead，
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed.
Madam，if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison，I would temper it
That Romeo should，upon receipt thereof，
Soon sleep in quiet.O，how my heart abhors
To hear him named and cannot come to him
To wreak the love I bore my cousin
Upon his body that hath slaughtered him！
LADY CAPULET
Find thou the means，and I’ll find such a man.
But now I’ll tell thee joyful tidings，girl.
JULIET
And joy comes well in such a needy time.
What are they，I beseech your ladyship？
LADY CAPULET
Well，well，thou hast a careful father，child；
One who，to put thee from thy heaviness，
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy
That thou expect’st not，nor I look’d not for.
JULIET
Madam，in happy time.What day is that？
LADY CAPULET
Marry，my child，early next Thursday morn
The gallant，young，and noble gentleman
The County Paris at Saint Peter’s Church
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
JULIET
Now，by Saint Peter’s Church，and Peter too，
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste，that I must wed
Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.
I pray you，tell my lord and father，madam，
I will not marry yet；and when I do，I swear
It shall be Romeo—whom you know I hate—
Rather than Paris.These are news indeed.
LADY CAPULET
Here comes your father.Tell him so yourself，
And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter CAPULET and NURSE
CAPULET
When the sun sets，the earth doth drizzle dew，
But for the sunset of my brother’s son
It rains downright.
How now，a conduit，girl？what，still in tears？
Evermore show’ring？In one little body
Thou counterfeit’st a barque，a sea，a wind，
For still thy eyes—which I may call the sea—
Do ebb and flow with tears.the barque thy body is，
Sailing in this salt flood；the winds thy sighs，
Who，raging with thy tears and they with them，
Without a sudden calm will overset
Thy tempest－tossèd body.—How now，wife？
Have you delivered to her our decree？
LADY CAPULET
Ay，sir，but she will none，she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave.
CAPULET
Soft，take me with you，take me with you，wife.
How！will she none？Doth she not give us thanks？
Is she not proud？Doth she not count her blest，
Unworthy as she is，that we have wrought
So worthy agentleman to be her bridegroom？
JULIET
Not proud you have，but thankful that you have.
Proud can I never be of what I hate，
But thankful even for hate that is meant love.
CAPULET
How，how，how，how，—chopped logic？What is this？
‘Proud’，and‘I thank you’，and‘I thank you not’，
And yet‘not proud’？Mistress minion，you，
Thank me no thankings，nor proud me no prouds，
But fettle your fine joints’gainst Thursday next
To go with Paris to Saint Peter’s Church，
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out，you green－sickness carrion！Out，you baggage，
You tallow－face！
LADY CAPULET
Fie，fie，what，are you mad？
JULIET［kneels down］
Good father，I beseech you on my knees，
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
CAPULET
Hang thee，young baggage，disobedient wretch！
I tell thee what：get thee to church o’Thursday，
Or never after look me in the face.
Speak not，reply not，do not answer me.
［JULIET rises］
My fingers itch.Wife，we scarce thought us blest
That God had lent us but this only child，
But now I see this one is one too much，
And that we have a curse in having her.
Out on her，hilding！
NURSE
God in heaven bless her！
You are to blame，my lord，to rate her so.
CAPULET
And why，my lady Wisdom？Hold your tongue，
Good Prudence.Smatter with your gossips，go！
NURSE
I speak no treason.
CAPULET
O，God－i’－good－e’en！
NURSE
May not one speak？
CAPULET
Peace，you mumbling fool，
Utter your gravity o’er a gossip’s bowl，
For here we need it not.
LADY CAPULET
You are too hot.
CAPULET
God’s bread，it makes me mad.
Day，night；work，play；
Alone，in company，still my care hath been
To have her matched；and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage，
Of fair demesnes，youthful，and nobly lined，
Stuffed，as they say，with honourable parts，
Proportioned as one’s thought would wish a man—
And then to have a wretched puling fool，
A whining maumet，in her fortune’s tender，
To answer‘I’ll not wed，I cannot love；
I am too young，I pray you pardon me’！
But an you will not wed，I’ll pardon you！
Graze where you will，you shall not house with me.
Look to’t，think on’t.I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near.Lay hand on heart.Advise.
An you be mine，I’ll give you to my friend.
An you be not，hang，beg，starve，die in
the streets，
For，by my soul，I’ll ne’er acknowledge thee，
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good.
Trust to’t，bethink you.I’ll not be forsworn.
Exit
【注释】
①Are you going？It’s not morning yet.
It was the nightingale，and not the lark，
That you heard；
Nightly she sings on that pomegranate tree.
Believe me，love，it was the nightingale.
②It was the lark，the messenger that says it’s morning，
No nightingale.Look，love，what jealous streaks of sunlight
Lace the parting clouds over there in the east.
Night’s candles are burned out，and the joyful day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
I have to go and live，or stay and die.
③That light is not daylight，I just know it.
It is some meteor that the sun spits out
To be a torch bearer for you tonight
And light your way to Mantua.
Therefore stay a bit longer，you don’t need to go.
④Let me be taken prisoner，let me be put to death.
I am content，so you will have it so.
I’ll say that that gray streak is not the morning sun，
It’s only the pale reflection of Cynthia’s brow；
And that’s not the lark whose notes hit
The high ceiling of heaven so high above our heads.
I have more care to stay than will to go.
Come，death，and welcome！Juliet wills it so.
How is it，my soul？Let’s talk.It is not day.
⑤It is，it is！Go quickly！Get going！Leave！
It is the lark that sings so out of tune，
Straining to sing horrible songs and unpleasing notes.
Some say the lark makes sweet division in its songs；
This isn’t true，because she divides us.
Some say the lark and hated toad change eyes；
O，now I wish that they had changed voices too！
Since that military voice frightens us，
They’ll be hunting you here with an early morning song today.
O，now get going！It’s getting lighter and lighter.
⑥Are you going so soon，My lord，my love，my friend？
I must hear from you every hour of the day，
Because there are many days in just one minute.
O，by this count I’ll be very old
Before I see my Romeo again.
⑦O God！I have a soul that predicts bad things！
I think I see you，now you are below me，
Looking like someone dead in the bottom of a tomb.
Either my eyesight fails，or you look pale.
⑧O Lady Luck！all men say you are changeable.
If you are so fickle，what do you want with a guy
Who is known for his faith？Be changeable，Luck，
Because then，I hope，you won’t keep him long，
But send him back to me.
⑨Who’s calling me？Is it my lady mother？
Isn’t she down so late，or up so early？
What unusual reason brings her here？
⑩Endless weeping for your cousin’s death？
What，will you wash him from his grave with tears？
And if you could，you couldn’t bring him back to life，
Therefore，stop grieving.A little grief shows much love，
But too much of grief shows a little craziness.
We will have vengeance for it，don’t worry about that.
So stop crying.I’ll send a messenger to someone in Mantua，
Where that same banished runaway lives，
And he shall give him such an unusual vial of medicine
That he will soon keep Tybalt company，
And then I hope you’ll be satisfied.
Indeed I’ll never be satisfied
With Romeo till I see him dead.
My poor heart is so aggravated for a kinsman，
Madam，that if you could only find a man
To bear a poison，I would help to mix it，
So that Romeo should，when he gets it，
Soon sleep in quiet.O，how my heart hates
To hear his name，and I can’t present myself to him，
To vent the love I had for my cousin Tybalt
Upon the body of the man that has slaughtered him！
Now by Saint Peter’s Church，and Peter too，
He shall not“make me there a joyful bride”.
What’s the rush that I must wed
Before a husband－to－be comes to court me？
Please tell my lord and father，madam，
I will not marry yet.And when I do，I swear
It shall be Romeo，whom you know I hate，
Rather than Paris.This is news indeed！
So that’s how it is now，arguing with choppy reasoning？What is this？
“Proud”，and“I thank you”，and“I thank you not”，
And yet“not proud”？Mistress Darling，you—
Thank me no thankings，nor proud me no prouds，
But get your fine joints ready for next Thursday
To go with Paris to Saint Peter’s Church，
Or I will drag you there on a cart made for traitors going to execution.
Get out，you green，diseased dead meat！Out，you bag of garbage！
You pale，ugly face！
God’s bread！It makes me angry.
Day，night，work，play，
Alone，or in company，still my main concern has been
To have her matched to a good man，and now having provided
A gentleman of noble parentage，
Of beautiful lands and estates，youthful，and with noble manners，
Stuffed，as they say，with honourable parts，
Proportioned as woman’s heart would wish a man to be built，
And then to have a wretched fool，crying like a baby，
A whining child，in her luck’s best offer，
To answer，“I’ll not wed，I cannot love，
I am too young，I pray you pardon me.”
But，if you will not wed，I’ll pardon you.
Eat where you can，you won’t live with me.
Look to it.Think on it，I’m not joking.
Thursday is near；swear to me，tell me.
If you are mine，I’ll give you to my friend；
If you aren’t，go hang yourself，beg，starve，die in the streets，
Because，by my soul，I’ll never acknowledge you exist，
And you will cut off from your inheritance.
Trust to it.Think about it.You won’t make a liar out of me.
【讨论题】
1.Discuss the relationships between parents and children in Romeo and Juliet.
2.How does Shakespeare treat death in Romeo and Juliet？Frame your answer in terms of legal，moral，and personal issues.
3.What’s the major theme of the play？
2.The School for Scandal
Richard Brinsley Sheridan
【简介与赏析】
理查德·布林斯利·谢里丹（Richard Brinsley Sheridan，1751—1816），18世纪英国戏剧代表作家。1751年生于戏剧名城都柏林，父母立于剧坛，深受熏陶，少有文志。24岁即出版《情敌》（The Rivals，1775），初露头角。后专事戏剧创作，作品颇丰，名声渐高，被誉为“当代康格里夫（18世纪初英国著名戏剧家）”。后转向戏剧实业，拥有特鲁里街剧院（The Drury Lane Theatre），即现特鲁里街皇家剧院（Theatre Royal，Drury Lane）前身，并于1780年开始政治生涯。老年孤苦，债务缠身，1816年卒于伦敦，葬于威斯敏斯特诗人角。
谢里丹传世作品有《造谣学校》（1777）等戏剧九种、诗集一部，以及少量政论文稿。他以风尚喜剧（comedies of manners）闻名于世，其作品嘲讽当时英国上流社会之伪善、荒淫和腐败，颂扬理想化资产者的正直与善良。
《造谣学校》
《造谣学校》是谢里丹的代表作，英国“风尚喜剧”之典范。所谓“造谣学校”并非指一所以“造谣”为宗旨的“学校”，而是一伙浅薄无识、荒淫无耻，专门制造谣言、破坏他人名誉和家庭幸福的男女。剧中着力塑造了一对性格迥异的兄弟，弟弟查尔斯看似挥霍成性、浪荡风流，实则宅心仁厚、真性善良；哥哥约瑟夫表面循规蹈矩，满口仁义道德，一副谦谦君子之态，实则贪婪伪善、荒淫无度。剧作者通过兄弟两人在爱情问题上截然不同的态度，展露了各自的本来面目。《造谣学校》布局紧凑、对话幽默、主题严肃，上承复辟时代喜剧文风，下启近现代喜剧潮流，实乃“风尚喜剧”垂范之作。
【剧本选读】
Characters
SIR PETER TEAZLE：Mr.King
SIR OLIVER SURFACE：Mr.Yates
JOSEPH SURFACE：Mr.Palmer
CHARLES SURFACE：Mr.Smith
CRABTREETREE：Mr.Parsons
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：Mr.Dodd
ROWLEY：Mr.Aickin
MOSES：Mr.Baddeley
SNAKE：Mr.Packer
CARELESS：Mr.Farren
SIR HARRY BUMPER：Mr.Gaudry
ACTⅠ SCENEⅠ
Lady Sneerwell’s House.
Lady Sneerwell at the dressing－table，Snake drinking chocolate
LADY SNEERWELL：The paragraphs，you say，Mr.Snake，were all inserted？
SNAKE：They were，madam；and as I copied them myself in a feigned han①，there can be no suspicion whence they came.
LADY SNEERWELL：Did you circulate the report of Lady Brittle’s intrigue with Captain Boastall？
SNAKE：That is in as fine a train②as your ladyship could wish.In the common course of things，I think it must reach Mrs.Clackit’s ears within four－and－twenty hours，and then you know the business is as good as done③.
LADY SNEERWELL：Why，truly，Mrs.Clackit has a very pretty talent and a great deal of industry.
SNAKE：True，madam，and has been tolerably successful in her day.To my knowledge，she has been the cause of six matches being broken off and three sons being disinherited，of four force elopements，and as many close confinements，nine separate maintenances，and two divorces.Nay，I have more than once traced her causing a tête－à－tête④in the Town and Country Magazine⑤，when the parties perhaps had never seen each other’s face before in the course of their lives.
LADY SNEERWELL：She certainly has talents，but her manner is gross.
SNAKE：’Tis very true；she generally designs well，has a free tongue and a bold invention，but her colouring is too dark and her outlines often extravagant.She wants that delicacy of hint and mellowness of sneer which distinguish your ladyship’s scandal.
LADY SNEERWELL：Ah，you are partial，Snake.
SNAKE：Not in the least.Everybody allows that Lady Sneerwell can do more with a word or look than many can with the most laboured detail，even when they happen to have a little truth on their side to support it.
LADY SNEERWELL：Yes，my dear Snake，and I am no hypocrite to deny the satisfaction I reap from the success of my efforts.Wounded myself in the early part of my life by the envenomed tongue of slander，I confess I have since known no pleasure equal to the reducing others to the level of my own injured reputation.
SNAKE：Nothing can be more natural.But，Lady Sneerwell，there is one affair in which you have lately employed me，wherein I confess I am at a loss to guess your motives.
LADY SNEERWELL：I conceive you mean with respect to my neighbor Sir Peter Teazle and his family？
SNAKE：I do.Here are two young men，to whom Sir Peter has acted as a kind of guardian since their father’s death，the eldest possessing the most amiable character and universally well spoken of，the other the most dissipated and extravagant young fellow in the kingdom⑥，without friends or character—the former an avowed admirer of your ladyship，and apparently your favourite；the latter attached to Maria，Sir Peter’s ward，add confessedly beloved by her.Now，on the face of these circumstances，it is utterly unaccountable to me，why you，the widow of a city knight⑦with a good jointure，should not close with the passion of a man of such character and expectations as Mr.Surface—and more so why you should be so uncommonly ear－nest to destroy the mutual attachment subsisting between his brother Charles and Maria.
LADY SNEERWELL：Then，at once to unravel this mystery，I must inform you that love has no share whatever in the intercourse between Mr.Surface and me.
SNAKE：No！
LADY SNEERWELL：His real attachment is to Maria，or her fortune；but，finding in his brother a favoured rival，he has been obliged to mask his pretensions and profit by my assistance.
SNAKE：Yet still I am more puzzled why you should interest yourself in his success.
LADY SNEERWELL：Heavens，how dull you are！Cannot you surmise the weakness which I hitherto through shame have concealed even from you？Must I confess that Charles—that libertine，that extravagant，that bankrupt in fortune and reputation—that he it is for whom I am thus anxious and malicious and to gain whom I would sacrifice everything？
SNAKE：Now indeed your conduct appears consistent.But how came you and Mr.Surface so confidential？
LADY SNEERWELL：For our mutual interest.I have found him out a longtime since.I know him to be artful，selfish and malicious—in short，a sentimental knave.
SNAKE：Yet Sir Peter vows he has not his equal in England；and，above all，he praises him as a man of sentiment.
LADY SNEERWELL：True，and with the assistance of his sentiments and hypocrisy he has brought him［Sir Peter］entirely into his interest with regard to Maria.
Enter Servant
SERVANT：Mr.Surface.
LADY SNEERWELL：Show him up.
Exit Servant
He generally calls about this time；I don’t wonder at people’s giving him to me for a lover.
Enter Joseph Surface
JOSEPH SURFACEACE：My dear Lady Sneerwell，how do you do today？—Mr.Snake，your most obedient.
LADY SNEERWELL：Snake has just been arraigning me on our mutual attachment；but I have informed him of our real views.You know how useful he has been to us；and，believe me，the confidence is not ill－placed.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Madam，it is impossible for me to suspect a man of Mr.Snake’s sensibility and discernment.
LADY SNEERWELL：Well，well，no compliments now；but tell me when you saw your mistress Maria，or—what is more material to me—your brother？
JOSEPH SURFACE：I have not seen either since I left you；but I can inform you that they never meet.Some of your stories have taken a good effect on Maria.
LADY SNEERWELL：Ah，my dear Snake，the merit of this belongs to you.—But do your brother’s distresses increase？
JOSEPH SURFACE：Every hour.I am told he has had another execution in the house yesterday.In short，his dissipation and extravagance exceed anything I have ever heard of.
LADY SNEERWELL：Poor Charles！
JOSEPH SURFACE：True，madam；notwithstanding his vices，one can’t help feeling for him.Ay，poor Charles！I’m sure I wish it were in my power to be of any essential service to him，for the man who does not share in the distresses of a brother，even though merited by his own misconduct，deserves—
LADY SNEERWELL：O Lud⑧，you are going to be moral，and forget that you are among friends.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Egad⑨，that’s true.I’ll keep that sentiment till I see Sir Peter.However，it is certainly a charity to rescue Maria from such a libertine，who，if he is to be reclaimed，can be so only by aperson of your ladyship’s superior accomplishments and understanding.
SNAKE：I believe，Lady Sneerwell，here’s company coming.I’ll go and copy the letter I mentioned to you.—Mr.Surface，your most obedient.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Sir，your very devoted.Exit Snake Lady Sneerwell，I am very sorry you have put any farther confidence in that fellow.
LADY SNEERWELL：Why so？
JOSEPH SURFACE：I have lately detected him in frequent conference with old Rowley，who was formerly my father’s steward，and has never，you know，been a friend of mine.
LADY SNEERWELL：And do you think he would betray us？
JOSEPH SURFACE：Nothing more likely.Take my word for’t，Lady Sneerwell.That fellow hasn’t virtue enough to be faithful even to his own villany.Ha！Maria！
Enter Maria
LADY SNEERWELL：Maria，my dear，how do you do？What’s the matter？
MARIA：O，there is that disagreeable lover of mine，Sir Benjamin Backbite，has just called at my guardian’s with his odious uncle，Crabtree；so I slipped out，and ran hither to avoid them.
LADY SNEERWELL：Is that all？
JOSEPH SURFACE：If my brother Charles had been of the party，ma’am，perhaps you would not have been so much alarmed.
LADY SNEERWELL：Nay，now you are severe，for I dare swear the truth of the matter is Maria heard you were here.—But，my dear，what has Sir Benjamin done，that you should avoid him so？
MARIA：O，he has done nothing；but’tis for what he has said.His conversation is a perpetual libel on all his acquaintance.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Ay，and the worst of it is，there is no advantage in not knowing him；for he’ll abuse a stranger just as soon as his best friend—and his uncle’s as bad.
LADY SNEERWELL：Nay，but we should make allowance.Sir Benjamin is a wit and a poet.
MARIA：For my part，I own，madam，wit loses its respect with me，when I see it in company with malice.What do you think，Mr.Surface？
JOSEPH SURFACE：Certainly，madam，to smile at the jest which plants a thorn in another’s breast is to become a principal in the mischief.
LADY SNEERWELL：Pshaw！There’s no possibility of being witty without a little ill nature.The malice of a good thing is the barb that makes it stick.What’s your opinion，Mr.Surface？
JOSEPH SURFACE：To be sure，madam，that conversation where the spirit of raillery is suppressed will ever appear tedious and insipid.
LADY SNEERWELL：Well，I’ll not debate how far scandal may be allowable；but in a man I am sure it is always contemptible.We have pride，envy，rivalship，and a thousand motives to depreciate each other；but the male slanderer must have the cowardice of a woman before he can traduce one.
Eenter Servant
SERVANT：Madam，Mrs.Candour is below，and，if your ladyship’s at leisure，will leave her carriage.
LADY SNEERWELL：Beg her to walk in.
Exit Servant Now，Maria，however，here is a character to your taste，for though Mrs.Candour is a little talkative，everybody knows her to be the best－natured and best sort of woman.
MARIA：Yes；with a very gross affectation of good nature and benevolence she does more mischief than the direct malice of old Crabtree.
JOSEPH SURFACE：I’faith⑩’tis very true，Lady Sneerwell.Whenever I hear the current running against the characters of my friends，I never think them in such danger as when Candour undertakes their defence.
LADY SNEERWELL：Hush，here she is.
Enter Mrs.Candour
MRS.CANDOUR：My dear Lady Sneerwell，how have you been this century
？—Mr.Surface，what news do you hear？Though，indeed，it is no matter，for I think one hears nothing else but scandal.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Just so，indeed，ma’am
.
MRS.CANDOUR：Ah，Maria，child，what，is the whole affair off between you and Charles
？His extravagance，I presume.The town talks of nothing else.
MARIA：I am very sorry，ma’am，the town has so little to do.
MRS.CANDOUR：True，true，child；but there’s no stopping people’s tongues.I own I was hurt to hear it—as I indeed was to learn from the same quarter that your guardian Sir Peter and Lady Teazle have not agreed lately as well as could be wished.
MARIA：’Tis strangely impertinent for people to busy themselves so.
MRS.CANDOUR：Very true，child；but what’s to be done？People will talk；there’s no preventing it.Why，it was but yesterday I was told that Miss Gadabout had eloped with Sir Filagree Flirt；but，lord，there’s no minding
what one hears—though to be sure I had this from very good authority.
MARIA：Such reports are highly scandalous.
MRS.CANDOUR：So they are，child.Shameful！Shameful！But the world is so censorious，no character escapes.Lud now，who would have suspected your friend Miss Prim of an indiscretion！Yet such is the ill－nature of people that they say her uncle stopped her last week just as she was stepping into the York Diligence with her dancing－master.
MARIA：I’ll answer for’t there are no grounds for that report.
MRS.CANDOUR：O，no foundation in the world，I dare swear.No more probably than the story circulated last month of Mrs.Festino’s affair with Colonel Cassino，though，to be sure，that matter was never rightly cleared up.
JOSEPH SURFACE：The license of invention some people take is monstrous indeed.
MARIA：’Tis so；but in my opinion，those who report such things are equally culpable.
MRS.CANDOUR：To be sure they are.Tale－bearers are as bad as the tale－makers.’Tis an old observation and a very true one；but what’s to be done，as I said before？How will you prevent people from talking？Today Mrs.Clackit assured me Mr.and Mrs.Honeymoon were at last become mere man and wife like the rest of their acquaintance.She likewise hinted that a certain widow，in the next street，had got rid of her dropsy and recovered her shape in a most surprising manner；and at the same time Miss Tattle who was by affirmed that Lord Buffalo had discovered his lady at a house of no extraordinary fame，and that Sir Harry Bouquet and Tom Saunter were to measure swords on a similar provocation.But，lord，do you think I would report these things？No，no！tale－bearers，as I said before，are just as bad as the tale－makers.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Ah，Mrs.Candour，if everybody had your forbearance and good nature！
MRS.CANDOUR：I confess，Mr.Surface，I cannot bear to hear people attacked behind their backs；and when ugly circumstances come out against our acquaintance，I own I always love to think the best.By the bye，I hope’tis not true that your brother is absolutely ruined.
JOSEPH SURFACE：I am afraid his circumstances are very bad indeed，ma’am.
MRS.CANDOUR：Ah，I heard so.But you must tell him to keep up his spirits；everybody almost is in the same way.Lord Spindle，Sir Thomas Splint，Captain Quinze，and Mr.Nickit—all up，I hear，within this week
！So，if Charles is undone，he’ll find half his acquaintance ruined too；and that，you know，is a consolation.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Doubtless，ma’am，a very great one.
Enter Servant
SERVANT：Mr.Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite.
LADY SNEERWELL：So！Maria，you see your lover pursues you.Positively you shan’t
escape.
Enter Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite
CRABTREE：Lady Sneerwell，I kiss your hand.—Mrs.Candour，I don’t believe you are acquainted with my nephew Sir Benjamin Backbite.Egad，ma’am，he has a pretty wit，and is a pretty poet too.—Isn’t he，Lady Sneerwell？
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：Oh fie，uncle.
CRABTREE：Nay，egad，’tis true.I’ll back him at a rebus or a charade against the best rhymer in the kingdom.Has your ladyship heard the epigram he wrote last week on Lady Frizzle’s feather
catching fire？Do，Benjamin，repeat it—or the charade you made last night extempore at Mrs.Drowzie’s conversazione
.Come now；your first is the name of a fish，your second a great naval commander，and—
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：Uncle，now prythee
—
CRABTREE：I’faith
，ma’am，’twould
surprise you to hear how ready he is at all these sort of things.
LADY SNEERWELL：I wonder，Sir Benjamin，you never publish anything.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：To say truth，ma’am，’tis very vulgar to print，and as my little productions are mostly satires and lampoons on particular people，I find they circulate more by giving copies in confidence to the friends of the parties.However，I have some elegies，which，when favoured with this lady’s smiles，I mean to give the public.
CRABTREE：’Fore heaven，ma’am，they’ll immortalize you；you’ll be handed down to posterity like Petrarch’s Laura，or Waller’s Sacharissa.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：Yes，madam；I think you will like them，when you shall see them on a beautiful quarto page，where a neat rivulet of text shall meander through a meadow of margin.’Fore Gad，they will be the most elegant things of their kind.
CRABTREE：But，ladies，that’s true—have you heard the news？
MRS.CANDOUR：What，sir，do you mean the report of—？
CRABTREE：No，ma’am，that’s not it.Miss Nicely is going to be married to her own footman.
MRS.CANDOUR：Impossible！
CRABTREE：Ask Sir Benjamin.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：’Tis very true，ma’am.Everything is fixed and the wedding liveries bespoke
.
CRABTREE：Yes，and they do say there were pressing reasons for’t.
LADY SNEERWELL：Why，I have heard something of this before.
MRS.CANDOUR：It can’t be，and I wonder any one should believe such a story of so prudent a lady as Miss Nicely.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：O，lud，ma’am，that’s the very reason’twas believed at once.She has always been so cautious and so reserved，that everybody was sure there was some reason for it at bottom.
MRS.CANDOUR：Why，to be sure，a tale of scandal is as fatal to the credit of a prudent lady of her stamp as a fever is generally to those of the strongest constitutions；but there is a sort of puny sickly reputation that is always ailing，yet will outlive the robuster characters of a hundred prudes.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：True，madam.There are valetudinarians in reputation as well as constitution，who，being conscious of their weak part，avoid the least breath of air and supply their want of stamina by care and circumspection.
MRS.CANDOUR：Well，but this may be all a mistake.You know，Sir Benjamin，very trifling circumstances often give rise to the most injurious tales.
CRABTREE：That they do，I’ll be sworn，ma’am.Did you ever hear how Miss Piper came to lose her lover and her character last summer at Tunbridge？Sir Benjamin，you remember it？
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：O，to be sure，the most whimsical circumstance.
LADY SNEERWELL：How was it，pray？
CRABTREE：Why，one evening，at Mrs.Ponto’s assembly，the conversation happened to turn on the breeding Nova Scotia sheep in this country.Says a young lady in company，“I have known instances of it，for Miss Letitia Piper，a first cousin of mine，had a Nova Scotia
sheep that produced her twins”.“What！”，cries the Lady Dowager Dundizzy，who you know is as deaf as a post，“has Miss Piper had twins？”This mistake，as you may imagine，threw the whole company into a fit of laughing.However，’twas the next morning everywhere reported，and in a few days believed by the whole town，that Miss Letitia Piper had actually been brought to bed of
a fine boy and girl；and in less than a week there were some people who could name the father—and the farm－house where the babies were put out to nurse.
LADY SNEERWELL：Strange indeed！
CRABTREE：Matter of fact，I assure you.—O lud，Mr.Surface，pray is it true that your uncle Sir Oliver is coming home？
JOSEPH SURFACE：Not that I know of indeed，sir.
CRABTREE：He has been in the East Indias a long time；you can scarcely remember him，I believe.Sad comfort，whenever he returns，to hear how your brother has gone on.
JOSEPH SURFACE：Charles has been imprudent，sir，to be sure；but I hope no busy people have already prejudiced Sir Oliver against him.He may reform.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：To be sure，he may.For my part I never believed him to be so utterly void of principle as people say；and，though he has lost all his friends，I am told nobody is better spoken of by the Jews.
CRABTREE：That’s true，egad，nephew.If the Old Jewry
was a ward，I believe Charles would be an alderman.No man more popular there.’Fore Gad，I hear he pays as many annuities as the Irish tontine，and that whenever he is sick they have prayers for the recovery of his health in all the synagogues.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：Yet no man lives in greater splendour.They tell me，when he entertains his friends he will sit down to dinner with a dozen of his own securities，have a score of tradesmen in the ante－chamber and an officer behind every guest’s chair.
JOSEPH SURFACE：This may be entertainment to you，gentlemen；but you pay very little regard to the feelings of a brother.
MARIA：［aside］Their malice is intolerable.—Lady Sneerwell，I must wish you a good morning.I’m not very well.
Exit Maria
MRS.CANDOUR：O，dear，she changes colour very much！
LADY SNEERWELL：Do，Mrs.Candour，follow her；she may want your assistance.
MRS.CANDOUR：That I will，with all my soul，ma’am.Poor dear girl，who knows what her situation may be！
Exit Mrs.Candour
LADY SNEERWELL：’Twas nothing but that she could not bear to hear Charles reflected on，notwithstanding their difference.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：The young lady’s penchant
is obvious.
CRABTREE：But，Benjamin，you must not give up the pursuit for that.Follow her，and put her into good humour—repeat her some of your own verses.Come，I’ll assist you.
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：Mr.Surface，I did not mean to hurt you—but，depend upon’t，your brother is utterly undone.（Going）
CRABTREE：O lud，ay，undone as ever man was—can’t raise a guinea.（Going）
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：And everything sold，I’m told，that was movable.（Going）
CRABTREE：I have seen one that was at his house.Not a thing left but some empty bottles that were overlooked，and the family pictures，which，I believe，are framed in the wainscots.（Going）
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：And I’m very sorry also to hear some bad stories against him.（Going）
CRABTREE：O，he has done many mean things，that’s certain！（Going）
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE：But，however，as he’s your brother—（Going）
CRABTREE：We’ll tell you all，another opportunity.
Exeunt Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite
LADY SNEERWELL：Ha，ha，ha！’Tis very hard for them to leave a subject they have not quite run down.
JOSEPH SURFACE：And I believe the abuse was no more acceptable to your ladyship than to Maria.
LADY SNEERWELL：I doubt her affections are further engaged than we imagined.But the family are to be here this evening，so you may as well dine where you are，and we shall have an opportunity of observing farther.In the meantime，I’ll go and plot mischief，and you shall study sentiments.
Exeunt
SCENEⅡ
Sir Peter Teazle’s House
Enter Sir Peter Teazle
SIR PETER TEAZLE：When an old bachelor takes a young wife，what is he to expect！’Tis now six months since Lady Teazle made me the happiest of men，and I have been the most miserable dog ever since that ever committed wedlock.We tift a little going to church，and came to a quarrel before the bells had done ringing.I was more than once nearly choked with gall during the honeymoon，and had lost all comfort in life before my friends had done wishing me joy.Yet I chose with caution a girl bred wholly in the country，who never knew luxury beyond one silk gown，nor dissipation above the annual gala of a race－ball.Yet now she plays her part in all the extravagant fopperies of the fashion and the town，with as ready agrace as if she had never seen a bush nor a grass－plat out of Grosvenor Square！I am sneered at by all my acquaintance，and paragraphed in the newspapers.She dissipates my fortune and contradicts all my humours.Yet the worst of it is I doubt I love her，or I should never bear all this.However，I’ll never be weak enough to own it.
Enter Rowley
ROWLEY：O，Sir Peter，your servant.How is it with you，sir？
SIR PETER TEAZLE：Very bad，Master Rowley，very bad.I meet with nothing but crosses and vexations.
ROWLEY：What can have happened to trouble you since yesterday？
SIR PETER TEAZLE：A good question to a married man！
ROWLEY：Nay，I’m sure，your lady，Sir Peter，your lady can’t be the cause of your uneasiness.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：Why，has anybody told you she was dead？
ROWLEY：Come，come，Sir Peter，You love her，notwithstanding your tempers don’t exactly agree.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：But the fault is entirely hers，Master Rowley.I am myself the sweetest tempered man alive and hate a teasing temper，and so I tell her a hundred times a day.
ROWLEY：Indeed！
SIR PETER TEAZLE：Ay；and what is very extraordinary，in all our disputes she is always in the wrong！But Lady Sneerwell，and the set she meets at her house，encourage the perverseness of her disposition.Then，to complete my vexation，Maria，my ward，whom I ought to have the power of a father over，is determined to turn rebel too，and absolutely refuses the man whom I have long resolved on for her husband，meaning，I suppose，to bestow herself on his profligate brother.
ROWLEY：You know，Sir Peter，I have always taken the liberty to differ with you on the subject of these two young gentlemen.I only wish you may not be deceived in your opinion of the elder.For Charles—my life on’t，he will retrieve his errors yet.Their worthy father，once my honoured master，was at his years nearly as wild a spark；yet，when he died，he did not leave amore benevolent heart to lament his loss.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：You are wrong，Master Rowley.On their father’s death you know I acted as a kind of guardian to them both，till their uncle Sir Oliver’s liberality gave them an early independence.Of course，no person could have more opportunities of judging of their hearts，and I was never mistaken in my life.Joseph is indeed a model for the young men of the age.He is a man of sentiment，and acts up to the sentiments he professes；but，for the other，take my word for’t，if he had any grain of virtue by descent，he has dissipated them with the rest of his inheritance.Ah，my old friend Sir Oliver will be deeply mortified when he finds how part of his bounty has been misapplied！
ROWLEY：I am sorry to find you so violent against the young man because this may be the most critical period of his fortune.I came hither with news that will surprise you.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：What！let me hear.
ROWLEY：Sir Oliver is arrived and at this moment in town.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：How！You astonish me.I thought you did not expect him this month.ROWLEY：I did not，but his passage has been remarkably quick.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：Egad，I shall rejoice to see my old friend；’tis sixteen years since we met.We have had many a day together.But does he still enjoin us not to inform his nephews of his arrival？
ROWLEY：Most strictly.He means，before it is known，to make some trial of their dispositions.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：Ah，there needs no art to discover their merits！However，he shall have his way.But pray，does he know I am married？
ROWLEY：Yes，and will soon wish you joy.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：What，as we drink health to a friend in consumption？Ah，Oliver will laugh at me.We used to rail at matrimony together，but he has been steady to his text.Well，he must be soon at my house，though；I’ll instantly give orders for his reception.But，Master Rowley，don’t drop a word that Lady Teazle and I ever disagree.
ROWLEY：By no means.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：For I should never be able to stand Noll’s jokes.So I’ll have him think，Lord forgive me，that we are a very happy couple.
ROWLEY：I understand you；but then you must be very careful not to differ while he’s in the house with you.
SIR PETER TEAZLE：Egad，and so we must；and that’s impossible！Ah，Master Rowley，when an old bachelor marries a young wife，he deserves—no，the crime carries its punishment along with it.
Exeunt
【注释】
①in a feigned hand：in a disguised handwriting
②in as fine a train：in as good a condition；in as perfect an arrangement
③as good as done：the same as done，practically accomplished
④tête－à－tête：（French）aprivate interview between two persons，here referring to a scandalous report of some one love intrigue（in a magazine）
⑤Town and Country Magazine：a magazine in 18th century England in which scandals were frequently reported
⑥in the kingdom：referring to England
⑦a city knight：here referring to a knight created from a merchant in the city of London，as distinguished from the hereditary feudal knight of a noble family and a higher rank
⑧O Lud：O Lord
⑨egad：by God（an exclamation or exultation or surprise）
⑩I’faith：in faith（a mild oath）
century：Mrs.Candour wishes to say she has not seen her friend for a long time
ma’am：madam
is the whole affair off between you and Charles：have you broken of with charles
there’s no minding：one must not mind
all up...within this week：are going to be ruined within this week
shan’t：shall not
feather：i.e.feather of a hat
conversazione：（Italian）a meeting for conversation；particularly on literary subjects
pr’ythee：prithee，i.e.I pray thee
I’faith：upon my word
’twould：it would
wedding liveries bespoke：wedding clothes have already been ordered（Sir Benjamin hints at Miss Nicely marrying a servant）
Nova Scotia：（Latin）New Scotland—aprovince of East Canada
brought to bed of：gave birth to
the old Jewry：the Jew’s quarter in London
penchant：（French）liking，strong inclination，here referring to Marias’love for Charles Surface
【讨论题】
1.Do some of the characters’names suggest their owners’personalities？Illustrate your answer.
2.Are there any traces in the play revealing the influence of earlier comedies，such as those by Shakespeare？Explain your answer.
3.What are the causes of the quarrel between Sir Peter and his wife Lady Teazle？
3.The Importance of Being Earnest
Oscar Wilde
【简介与赏析】
奥斯卡·王尔德（Oscar Wilde，1854—1900），著名爱尔兰裔唯美主义诗人、小说家、剧作家、童话作家及文艺理论家。生于贵族之家，受父母熏陶，自小热爱文艺，且天资聪颖，精通法语、德语、希腊文等多国语言。十七岁入都柏林三一学院学习古典文学，二十岁入牛津大学，开始接触唯美主义哲学。后结识沃尔特·佩特（Walter Pater，1839—1894）与约翰·拉斯金（John Ruskin，1819—1900）等，受到唯美主义审美观念影响，开始接触新黑格尔派哲学、达尔文进化论和拉斐尔前派的作品。
王尔德在大学期间就创作诗歌，诗作获纽迪盖奖（Newdigate Prize），并有诗集出版，名声初起。1882年赴美国巡回讲演唯美主义。后陆续发表其他诗作、小说、童话及散文等。但王尔德更以其戏剧创作名噪一时，其剧作被称为是自谢里丹的《造谣学校》以来最优秀的喜剧作品。他主张“为艺术而艺术”（art for art’s sake），重要作品有小说《道林·格雷的画像》（1891），戏剧《温德密尔夫人的扇子》（1892）、《无足轻重的女人》（1893）、《莎乐美》（1893，法语）、《完美丈夫》（1895）、《认真的重要性》（1895）等。
王尔德谈吐机智、特立独行，在维多利亚时代虽然名闻天下，但也饱受非议。1895年因遭指控犯有同性恋行为获罪，出狱后旅居欧陆，1900年卒于巴黎。
《认真的重要性》
《认真的重要性》（又译《名叫埃那斯特的重要性》）是王尔德的最后一部剧作，也是其戏剧代表作。剧本讲述了两对青年男女历经波折，有情人终成眷属的故事。青年绅士约翰是塞西莉的监护人，二人同住乡间。他在伦敦有位朋友叫阿尔杰农。约翰爱上了阿尔杰农的表妹格温多林，于是他虚构了一个名叫“埃那斯特”的弟弟以搪塞塞西莉，到伦敦向格温多林求爱。当他面见格温多林的母亲布雷克耐尔夫人时，却不得不承认自己是个弃婴的旧事，遂被要求查清身世。而阿尔杰农冒充这位并不存在的“埃那斯特”追求塞西莉。没想到塞西莉倾心于“埃那斯特”已久，于是与阿尔杰农一见钟情。五人齐聚乡间，结果发现约翰真名就是“埃那斯特”，是阿尔杰农的亲哥哥。两对情人自此成就佳缘。
本剧情节曲折、人物生动，加以妙言、警句及反论穿插其间，更添灵气。自1895年情人节于圣詹姆士剧院首演，轰动伦敦，后多次改编为歌剧、电影、广播剧等。虽对情节严肃性略有微词，但萧伯纳等当时的剧作家、评论家均认同其幽默与舞台表演之成功。公正论之，本剧虽以诙谐见长，但是严肃性不让同时期任何其他剧作。王尔德之剧作如其为人，放荡不羁，新颖出奇，轻松幽默之间锋芒直指维多利亚时期的道德规范，入木三分地讽刺了当时英国社会的矫饰与病态。
【剧本选读】
Characters
John（“Jack”）Worthing：In love with Gwendolen，bachelor，adopted when very young by Thomas Cardew
Algernon（“Algy”）Moncrieff：First cousin of Gwendolen，bachelor，nephew of Lady Bracknell
Lady Bracknell：Algernon’s snobbish，mercenary，and domineering aunt and Gwendolen’s mother
Gwendolen Fairfax：Algernon’s cousin and Lady Bracknell’s daughter
Cecily Cardew：Jack’s ward，the granddaughter of the old gentlemen who found and adopted Jack when Jack was a baby
ACTⅠ PARTⅡ
JACK：Charming day it has been，Miss Fairfax.
GWENDOLEN：Pray①don’t talk to me about the weather，Mr.Worthing.Whenever people talk to me about the weather，I always feel quite certain that they mean something else.And that makes me so nervous.
JACK：I do mean something else.
GWENDOLEN：I thought so.In fact，I am never wrong.
JACK：And I would like to be allowed to take advantage of Lady Bracknell’s temporary absence②...
GWENDOLEN：I would certainly advise you to do so.Mamma has a way of coming back suddenly into a room that I have often had to speak to her about.
JACK：［nervously］Miss Fairfax，ever since I met you I have admired you more than any girl...I have ever met since...I met you.
GWENDOLEN：Yes，I am quite well aware of the fact.And I often wish that in public，at any rate，you had been more demonstrative.For me you have always had an irresistible fascination.Even before I met you I was far from indifferent to you.［Jack looks at her in amazement.］We live，as I hope you know，Mr Worthing，in an age of ideals.The fact is constantly mentioned in the more expensive monthly magazines，and has reached the provincial pulpits，I am told；and my ideal has always been to love someone of the name of Ernest.There is something in that name that inspires absolute confidence.The moment Algernon first mentioned to me that he had a friend called Ernest，I knew I was destined to③love you.
JACK：You really love me，Gwendolen？
GWENDOLEN：Passionately！
JACK：Darling！You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.
GWENDOLEN：My own Ernest！
JACK：But you don’t really mean to say that you couldn’t love me if my name wasn’t Ernest？
GWENDOLEN：But your name is Ernest.
JACK：Yes，I know it is.But supposing it was something else？Do you mean to say you couldn’t love me then？
GWENDOLEN：［glibly］Ah！that is clearly a metaphysical speculation，and like most metaphysical speculations has very little reference at all to the actual facts of real life，as we know them.
JACK：Personally，darling，to speak quite candidly，I don’t much care about the name of Ernest...I don’t think the name suits me at all.
GWENDOLEN：It suits you perfectly.It is a divine④name.It has a music of its own.It produces vibrations.
JACK：Well，really，Gwendolen，I must say that I think there are lots of other much nicer names.I think Jack，for instance，a charming name.
GWENDOLEN：Jack？...No，there is very little music in the name Jack，if any at all，indeed.It does not thrill.It produces absolutely no vibrations...I have known several Jacks，and they all，without exception，were more than usually plain.Besides，Jack is a notorious domesticity for John！And I pity any woman who is married to a man called John.She would probably never be allowed to know the entrancing pleasure of a single moment’s solitude.The only really safe name is Ernest.
JACK：Gwendolen，I must get christened at once—I mean we must get married at once.There is no time to be lost.
GWENDOLEN：Married，Mr.Worthing？
JACK：［astounded］Well...surely.You know that I love you，and you led me to believe，Miss Fairfax，that you were not absolutely indifferent to me.
GWENDOLEN：I adore you.But you haven’t proposed to me yet.Nothing has been said at all about marriage.The subject has not even been touched on.
JACK：Well...may I propose to you now？
GWENDOLEN：I think it would be an admirable opportunity.And to spare you any possible disappointment，Mr.Worthing，I think it only fair to tell you quite frankly before hand that I am fully determined to accept you.
JACK：Gwendolen！
GWENDOLEN：Yes，Mr.Worthing，what have you got to say to me？
JACK：You know what I have got to say to you.
GWENDOLEN：Yes，but you don’t say it.
JACK：Gwendolen，will you marry me？［Goes on his knees.］
GWENDOLEN：Of course I will，darling.How long you have been about it！I am afraid you have had very little experience in how to propose.
JACK：My own one，I have never loved any one in the world but you.
GWENDOLEN：Yes，but men often propose for practice.I know my brother Gerald does.All my girl－friends tell me so.What wonderfully blue eyes you have，Ernest！They are quite，quite blue.I hope you will always look at me just like that，especially when there are other people present.
［Enter Lady Bracknell.］
LADY BRACKNELL：Mr.Worthing！Rise，sir，from this semi－recumbent posture.It is most indecorous⑤.
GWENDOLEN：Mamma！［He tries to rise；she restrains him.］I must beg you to retire.This is no place for you.Besides，Mr.Worthing has not quite finished yet.LADY BRACKNELL：Finished what，may I ask？
GWENDOLEN：I am engaged to Mr.Worthing，mamma.［They rise together.］
LADY BRACKNELL：Pardon me，you are not engaged to anyone.When you do become engaged to some one，I，or your father，should his health permit him，will inform you of the fact.An engagement should come on a young girl as a surprise，pleasant or unpleasant，as the case may be.It is hardly a matter that she could be allowed to arrange for herself...And now I have a few questions to put to you，Mr.Worthing.While I am making these inquiries，you，Gwendolen，will wait for me below in the carriage.
GWENDOLEN：［reproachfully］Mamma！
LADY BRACKNELL：In the carriage，Gwendolen！［Gwendolen goes to the door.She and Jack blow kisses to each other behind Lady Bracknell’s back.Lady Bracknell looks vaguely about as if she could not understand what the noise was.Finally turns round.］Gwendolen，the carriage！
GWENDOLEN：Yes，mamma.［Goes out，looking back at Jack.］
LADY BRACKNELL：［sitting down］You can take a seat，Mr.Worthing.
［Looks in her pocket for note－book and pencil.］
JACK：Thank you，Lady Bracknell，I prefer standing.
LADY BRACKNELL：［pencil and note－book in hand］I feel bound to tell you that you are not down on my list of eligible⑥young men，although I have the same list as the dear Duchess of Bolton has.We work together，in fact.However，I am quite ready to enter your name，should your answers be what a really affectionate mother requires.Do you smoke？
JACK：Well，yes，I must admit I smoke.
LADY BRACKNELL：I am glad to hear it.A man should always have an occupation of some kind.There are far too many idle men in London as it is.How old are you？
JACK：Twenty－nine.
LADY BRACKNELL：A very good age to be married at.I have always been of opinion that a man who desires to get married should know either everything or nothing.Which do you know？
JACK：［after some hesitation］I know nothing，Lady Bracknell.
LADY BRACKNELL：I am pleased to hear it.I do not approve of anything that tampers⑦with natural ignorance.Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit；touch it and the bloom is gone.The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound.Fortunately in England，at any rate，education produces no effect whatsoever.If it did，it would prove a serious danger to the upper classes，and probably lead to acts of violence in Grosvenor Square.What is your income？
JACK：Between seven and eight thousand a year.
LADY BRACKNELL：［makes a note in her book］In land，or in investments？
JACK：In investments，chiefly.
LADY BRACKNELL：That is satisfactory.What between the duties expected of one during one’s lifetime，and the duties exacted from one after one’s death，land has ceased to be either a profit or a pleasure.It gives one position，and prevents one from keeping it up.That’s all that can be said about land.
JACK：I have a country house with some land，of course，attached to it，about fifteen hundred acres，I believe；but I don’t depend on that for my real income.In fact，as far as I can make out，the poachers are the only people who make anything out of it.
LADY BRACKNELL：A country house！How many bedrooms？Well，that point can be cleared up afterwards.You have a town house，I hope？A girl with a simple，unspoiled nature，like Gwendolen，could hardly be expected to reside in the country.
JACK：Well，I own a house in Belgrave Square，but it is let by the year to Lady Bloxham.Of course，I can get it back whenever I like，at six months’notice.
LADY BRACKNELL：Lady Bloxham？I don’t know her.
JACK：Oh，she goes about very little.She is a lady considerably advanced in years.
LADY BRACKNELL：Ah，nowadays that is no guarantee of respectability of character.What number in Belgrave Square？
JACK：149.
LADY BRACKNELL：［shaking her head］The unfashionable side⑧.I thought there was something.However，that could easily be altered.
JACK：Do you mean the fashion，or the side？
LADY BRACKNELL：［sternly］Both，if necessary，I presume.What are your politics？
JACK：Well，I am afraid I really have none.I am a Liberal Unionist.
LADY BRACKNELL：Oh，they count as Tories.They dine with us.Or come in the evening，at any rate.Now to minor matters.Are your parents living？
JACK：I have lost both my parents.
LADY BRACKNELL：To lose one parent，Mr.Worthing，may be regarded as a misfortune；to lose both looks like carelessness.Who was your father？He was evidently a man of some wealth.Was he born in what the Radical papers call the purple of commerce，or did he rise from the ranks of the aristocracy？
JACK：I am afraid I really don’t know.The fact is，Lady Bracknell，I said I had lost my parents.It would be nearer the truth to say that my parents seem to have lost me...I don’t actually know who I am by birth.I was...well，I was found.
LADY BRACKNELL：Found！
JACK：The late Mr.Thomas Cardew，an old gentleman of a very charitable and kindly disposition，found me，and gave me the name of Worthing，because he happened to have a first－class ticket for Worthing in his pocket at the time.Worthing is a place in Sussex.It is a seaside resort.
LADY BRACKNELL：Where did the charitable gentleman who had a first－class ticket for this seaside resort find you？
JACK：［gravely］In a hand－bag.
LADY BRACKNELL：A hand－bag？
JACK：［very seriously］Yes，Lady Bracknell.I was in a hand－bag—a somewhat large，black leather hand－bag，with handles to it－an ordinary hand－bag in fact.
LADY BRACKNELL：In what locality did this Mr.James，or Thomas，Cardew come across this ordinary hand－bag？
JACK：In the cloak－room at Victoria Station.It was given to him in mistake for his own.
LADY BRACKNELL：The cloak－room at Victoria Station？
JACK：Yes.The Brighton line.
LADY BRACKNELL：The line is immaterial.Mr.Worthing，I confess I feel somewhat bewildered⑨by what you have just told me.To be born，or at any rate bred，in a handbag，whether it had handles or not，seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life that reminds one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution.And I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to？As for the particular locality in which the hand－bag was found，a cloak－room at a railway station might serve to conceal a social indiscretion—has probably，indeed，been used for that purpose before now—but it could hardly be regarded as an assured basis for a recognised position in good society.
JACK：May I ask you then what you would advise me to do？I need hardly say I would do anything in the world to ensure Gwendolen’s happiness.
LADY BRACKNELL：I would strongly advise you，Mr.Worthing，to try and acquire some relations as soon as possible，and to make a definite effort to produce at any rate one parent，of either sex，before the season is quite over.
JACK：Well，I don’t see how I could possibly manage to do that.I can produce the hand－bag at any moment.It is in my dressing－room at home.I really think that should satisfy you，Lady Bracknell.
LADY BRACKNELL：Me，sir！What has it to do with me？You can hardly imagine that I and Lord Bracknell would dream of allowing our only daughter—agirl brought up with the utmost care—to marry into a cloak－room，and form an alliance with a parcel.Good morning，Mr.Worthing！
［Lady Bracknell sweeps out in majestic indignation.］
JACK：Good morning！［Algernon，from the other room，strikes up the Wedding March.Jack looks perfectly furious，and goes to the door.］For goodness’sake don’t play that ghastly tune，Algy！How idiotic you are！
［The music stops and Algernon enters cheerily.］
ALGERNON：Didn’t it go off all right，old boy？You don’t mean to say Gwendolen refused you？I know it is a way she has.She is always refusing people.I think it is most illnatured of her.
JACK：Oh，Gwendolen is as right as a trivet.As far as she is concerned，we are engaged.Her mother is perfectly unbearable.Never met such a Gorgon...I don’t really know what a Gorgon is like，but I am quite sure that Lady Bracknell is one.In any case，she is a monster，without being a myth，which is rather unfair...I beg your pardon，Algy，I suppose I shouldn’t talk about your own aunt in that way before you.
ALGERNON：My dear boy，I love hearing my relations abused.It is the only thing that makes me put up with them at all.Relations are simply a tedious pack of people，who haven’t got the remotest knowledge of how to live，nor the smallest instinct about when to die.
JACK：Oh，that is nonsense！
ALGERNON：It isn’t！
JACK：Well，I won’t argue about the matter.You always want to argue about things.
ALGERNON：That is exactly what things were originally made for.
JACK：Upon my word，if I thought that，I’d shoot myself...［A pause.］You don’t think there is any chance of Gwendolen becoming like her mother in about a hundred and fifty years，do you，Algy？
ALGERNON：All women become like their mothers.That is their tragedy.No man does.That’s his.
JACK：Is that clever？
ALGERNON：It is perfectly phrased！and quite as true as any observation in civilized life should be.
JACK：I am sick to death of cleverness.Everybody is clever nowadays.You can’t go anywhere without meeting clever people.The thing has become an absolute public nuisance.I wish to goodness we had a few fools left.
ALGERNON：We have.
JACK：I should extremely like to meet them.What do they talk about？
ALGERNON：The fools？Oh！about the clever people，of course.
JACK：What fools！
ALGERNON：By the way，did you tell Gwendolen the truth about your being Ernest in town，and Jack in the country？
JACK：［in a very patronizing manner］My dear fellow，the truth isn’t quite the sort of thing one tells to a nice，sweet，refined girl.What extraordinary ideas you have about the way to behave to a woman！
ALGERNON：The only way to behave to a woman is to make love to her，if she is pretty，and to some one else，if she is plain.
JACK：Oh，that is nonsense.
ALGERNON：What about your brother？What about the profligate Ernest？
JACK：Oh，before the end of the week I shall have got rid of him.I’ll say he died in Paris of apoplexy.Lots of people die of apoplexy，quite suddenly，don’t they？
ALGERNON：Yes，but it’s hereditary，my dear fellow.It’s a sort of thing that runs in families.You had much better say a severe chill.
JACK：You are sure a severe chill isn’t hereditary，or anything of that kind？
ALGERNON：Of course it isn’t！
JACK：Very well，then.My poor brother Ernest is carried off suddenly，in Paris，by a severe chill.That gets rid of him.
ALGERNON：But I thought you said that...Miss Cardew was a little too much interested in your poor brother Ernest？Won’t she feel his loss a good deal？
JACK：Oh，that is all right.Cecily is not a silly romantic girl，I am glad to say.She has got a capital appetite，goes long walks，and pays no attention at all to her lessons.
ALGERNON：I would rather like to see Cecily.
JACK：I will take very good care you never do.She is excessively pretty，and she is only just eighteen.
ALGERNON：Have you told Gwendolen yet that you have an excessively pretty ward who is only just eighteen？
JACK：Oh！one doesn’t blurt these things out to people.Cecily and Gwendolen are perfectly certain to be extremely great friends.I’ll bet you anything you like that half an hour after they have met，they will be calling each other sister.
ALGERNON：Women only do that when they have called each other a lot of other things first.Now，my dear boy，if we want to get a good table at Willis’s，we really must go and dress.Do you know it is nearly seven？
JACK：［irritably］Oh！It always is nearly seven.
ALGERNON：Well，I’m hungry.
JACK：I never knew you when you weren’t...
ALGERNON：What shall we do after dinner？Go to a theatre？
JACK：Oh，no！I loathe listening.
ALGERNON：Well，let us go to the Club？
JACK：Oh，no！I hate talking.
ALGERNON：Well，we might trot round to the Empire at ten？
JACK：Oh，no！I can’t bear looking at things.It is so silly.
ALGERNON：Well，what shall we do？
JACK：Nothing！
ALGERNON：It is awfully hard work doing nothing.However，I don’t mind hard work where there is no definite object of any kind.
［Enter Lane.］
LANE：Miss Fairfax.
［Enter Gwendolen.Lane goes out.］
ALGERNON：Gwendolen，upon my word！
GWENDOLEN：Algy，kindly turn your back.I have something very particular to say to Mr.Worthing.
ALGERNON：Really，Gwendolen，I don’t think I can allow this at all.
GWENDOLEN：Algy，you always adopt a strictly immoral attitude towards life.You are not quite old enough to do that.［Algernon retires to the fireplace.］
JACK：My own darling！
GWENDOLEN：Ernest，we may never be married.From the expression on mamma’s face I fear we never shall.Few parents nowadays pay any regard to what their children say to them.The old－fashioned respect for the young is fast dying out.Whatever influence I ever had over mamma，I lost at the age of three.But although she may prevent us from becoming man and wife，and I may marry some one else，and marry often，nothing that she can possibly do can alter my eternal devotion to you.
JACK：Dear Gwendolen！
GWENDOLEN：The story of your romantic origin，as related to me by mamma，with unpleasing comments，has naturally stirred the deeper fibres of my nature.Your Christian name has an irresistible fascination.The simplicity of your character makes you exquisitely incomprehensible to me.Your town address at the Albany I have.What is your address in the country？
JACK：The Manor House，Woolton，Hertfordshire.
［Algernon，who has been carefully listening，smiles to himself，and writes the address on his shirt－cuff.Then picks up the Railway Guide.］
GWENDOLEN：There is a good postal service，I suppose？It may be necessary to do something desperate.That of course will require serious consideration.I will communicate with you daily.
JACK：My own one！
GWENDOLEN：How long do you remain in town？
JACK：Till Monday.
GWENDOLEN：Good！Algy，you may turn round now.
ALGERNON：Thanks，I’ve turned round already.
GWENDOLEN：You may also ring the bell.
JACK：You will let me see you to your carriage，my own darling？
GWENDOLEN：Certainly.
JACK：［to Lane，who now enters］I will see Miss Fairfax out.
LANE：Yes，sir.［Jack and Gwendolen go off.］
［Lane presents several letters on a salver to Algernon.It is to be surmised that they are bills，as Algernon，after looking at the envelopes，tears them up.］
ALGERNON：A glass of sherry，Lane.
LANE：Yes，sir.
ALGERNON：Tomorrow，Lane，I’m going Bunburying.
LANE：Yes，sir.
ALGERNON：I shall probably not be back till Monday.You can put up my dress clothes，my smoking jacket，and all the Bunbury suits...
LANE：Yes，sir.［Handing sherry.］
ALGERNON：I hope tomorrow will be a fine day，Lane.
LANE：It never is，sir.
ALGERNON：Lane，you’re a perfect pessimist.
LANE：I do my best to give satisfaction，sir.
［Enter Jack.Lane goes off.］
JACK：There’s a sensible，intellectual girl！the only girl I ever cared for in my life.
［Algernon is laughing immoderately.］What on earth are you so amused at？
ALGERNON：Oh，I’m a little anxious about poor Bunbury，that is all.
JACK：If you don’t take care，your friend Bunbury will get you into a serious scrape some day.
ALGERNON：I love scrapes.They are the only things that are never serious.
JACK：Oh，that’s nonsense，Algy.You never talk anything but nonsense.
ALGERNON：Nobody ever does.
［Jack looks indignantly at him，and leaves the room.Algernon lights a cigarette，reads his shirt－cuff，and smiles.］
Act Drop
【注释】
①pray：please
②absence：the state of being away
③be destined to：must
④divine：sacred
⑤indecorous：lacking propriety or good taste
⑥eligible：qualified
⑦tamper：to interfere in a harmful manner
⑧The unfashionable side：not the side of the rich
⑨bewildered：puzzled
【讨论题】
1.How does Lady Bracknell react to the news of Gwendolen’s engagement to Jack？What does her material interrogation of Jack tell us about her values and those of her society？
2.What devices does Wilde use to make the dialogue humorous？
3.What is the significance of the title of the play？
4.Saint Joan
George Bernard Shaw
【简介与赏析】
萧伯纳（George Bernard Shaw，全名乔治·伯纳·萧，1856—1950），爱尔兰著名剧作家。生于都柏林没落贵族之家，年少时家境贫苦，未成年辍学谋生；后父母离异，随母亲旅居伦敦。受母亲熏陶，少有文志，但五部小说创作均遭出版商拒绝，只能以撰写音乐评论为生。然而萧氏穷且弥坚，锲而不舍，1892年正式开始戏剧创作，历10年而剧名初定；小成不骄，用心致一，1925年获得诺贝尔文学奖，经25年而誉满天下；老当益壮，至死不辍，1950年逝世前出版剧作50余部，小说5部，以及其他短文、书信无数，又25年而终成大用。
萧伯纳受易卜生影响，主张戏剧应刻画社会现实，反对“为艺术而艺术”。他共写了51个剧本。前期主要有《不愉快戏剧集》，其包括《鳏夫的房产》（1892）、《华伦夫人的职业》（1894）等名作，《愉快的戏剧集》，其包括《武器与人》（1894）等，第三个戏剧集《为清教徒写的戏剧》，其包括《恺撒和克莉奥佩屈拉》（1898）等。进入20世纪之后，其戏剧创作进入高峰期，发表了《人与超人》（1903）、《芭芭拉少校》（1905）、《伤心之家》（1913）、《圣女贞德》（1923）、《苹果车》（1929）和《真相毕露》（1932）、《突然出现的岛上愚人》（1936）等一系列名作。
萧伯纳杰出的戏剧创作活动，使他被广泛认为是英国继莎士比亚以来最伟大的剧作家，有“20世纪的莫里哀”之称。
《圣女贞德》
《圣女贞德》（Saint Joan，1923）被公认为萧伯纳的最佳历史剧，是“诗人创作的最高峰”（诺贝尔文学奖颁奖词）。“奥尔良的少女”贞德（1412年1月6日—1431年5月30日）是15世纪法国著名的民族英雄、军事家，天主教会的圣女，法国人心中的自由女神。她本来是一个农村姑娘，英法百年战争（1337—1453）战火燃烧至15世纪时，法军屡战屡败。在整个国家岌岌可危之际，贞德挺身而出，领导一支法国军队大败英军，并支持法王查理七世加冕，将法国从亡国的危机中解救出来。但是，贞德并没有得到应有的荣誉，却遭到各方的猜忌。最终被俘，被宗教裁判所以异端和女巫罪判处火刑。贞德死后，影响极大，成为法国民族主义的象征。1920年，教皇本笃十五世追封其为圣女贞德。另外每年的五月的第二个星期天也被法国定为纪念贞德的全国假日。
本剧写于贞德封圣后不久，取材历史，情节跌宕，语言风趣。表现了贞德的英雄形象，突出了其个人意志，赋予了其现实意义。但同时也指出了个人能力的局限性，萧伯纳认为人类害怕圣贤和英雄，因此必欲将其置之死地而后快。本剧内涵丰富，对宗教信仰、妇女地位、社会形态，乃至影响历史发展及个人命运的政治因素等诸多问题的讨论，莫不鞭辟入里，发人深省。1925年萧伯纳正是以本剧获得诺贝尔文学奖，颁奖词中写道：“由于他那些充满理想主义及人情味的作品——它们那种激动性讽刺，常蕴涵着一种高度的诗意美”，本剧之底蕴可见一斑。
【剧本选读】
Characters
Joan：also known as The Maid，the dominant figure in the play
Archbishop of Rheims：apolitical prelate
Bluebeard/Gilles de Rais：a frivolous young courtier
Peter Cauchon：the Bishop of Beauvais，who presides over Joan’s trial along with the Inquisitor
Charles：the Dauphin（that is，heir to the throne），but actually king
John D’estivet：the prosecutor at Joan’s trial
Robert de Baudricourt：the local squire where Joan lives
De Courcelles：apriest who serves as an assessor at Joan’s trial
Bertrand de Poulengey：a dreamy gentleman，vassal to de Baudricourt and a convert to Joan’s cause
John de Stogumber：the chaplain to the Cardinal of Winchester in England and Joan’s most vehement antagonist Jack Dunois
Commander of the French troops at Orléans：a dedicated soldier and wise strategist，known as the Bastard of Orléans
Earl of Warwick：an English nobleman and one of Joan’s major antagonists
The Inquisitor：John Lema5tre，the mild and elderly but firm agent of the Holy Inquisition
La Hire：a captain in the army and a loyal follower of Joan’s
La Trémouille：Lord Chamberlain at the Dauphin’s court and commander of his army
Martin Ladvenu：the most compassionate of the assessors at Joan’s trial
EPILOGUE
A restless fitfully windy night in June 1456，full of summer lightning after many days of heat.King Charles the Seventh of France，formerly Joan’s Dauphin，now Charles the Victorious，aged51，is in bed in one of his royal chateaux①.The bed，raised on a dais of two steps，is towards the side of the room so as to avoid blocking a tall lancet②window in the middle.Its canopy③bears the royal arms in embroidery.Except for the canopy and the huge down pillows there is nothing to distinguish it from a broad settee with bed－clothes and a valance.Thus its occupant is in full view from the foot.
Charles is not asleep：he is reading in bed，or rather looking at the pictures in Fouquet’s Boccaccio with his knees doubled up to make a reading－desk.Beside the bed on his left is a little table with a picture of the Virgin，lighted by candles of painted wax.The walls are hung from ceiling to floor with painted curtains which stir at times in the draughts.At first glance the prevailing yellow and red in these hanging pictures is somewhat flamelike when the folds breathe in the wind.
The door is on Charles’s left，but in front of him close to the corner farthest from him.A large watchman’s rattle，handsomely designed and gaily painted，is in the bed under his hand.
Charles turns a leaf.A distant clock strikes the half－hour softly.Charles shuts the book with a clap；throws it aside；snatches up the rattle；and whirls it energetically，making a deafening clatter.Ladvenu enters，25 years older，strange and stark in bearing，and still carrying the cross from Rouen.Charles evidently does not expect him；for he springs out of bed on the farther side from the door.
CHARLES：Who are you？Where is my gentleman of the bedchamber？What do you want？
LADVENU：［solemnly］I bring you glad tidings of great joy.Rejoice，O king；for the taint is removed from your blood，and the stain from your crown.Justice，long delayed，is at last triumphant.
CHARLES：What are you talking about？Who are you？
LADVENU：I am Brother Martin.
CHARLES：And who，saving your reverence，may Brother Martin be？
LADVENU：I held this cross when The Maid perished in the fire.Twenty－five years have passed since then：nearly ten thousand days.And on every one of those days I have prayed to God to justify His daughter on earth as she is justified in heaven.
CHARLES：［reassured，sitting down on the foot of the bed］Oh，I remember now.I have heard of you.You have a bee in your bonnet about The Maid.Have you been at the inquiry？
LADVENU：I have given my testimony.
CHARLES：Is it over？
LADVENU：It is over.
CHARLES：Satisfactorily？
LADVENU：The ways of God are very strange.
CHARLES：How so？
LADVENU：At the trial which sent a saint to the stake as a heretic④and a sorceress⑤，the truth was told；the law was upheld；mercy was shewn beyond all custom；no wrong was done but the final and dreadful wrong of the lying sentence and the pitiless fire.At this inquiry from which I have just come，there was shameless perjury⑥，courtly corruption，calumny⑦of the dead who did their duty according to their lights，cowardly evasion of the issue，testimony made of idle tales that could not impose on a ploughboy.Yet out of this insult to justice，this defamation⑧of the Church，this orgy of lying and foolishness，the truth is set in the noonday sun on the hilltop；the white robe of innocence is cleansed from the smirch of the burning faggots；the holy life is sanctified；the true heart that lived through the flame consecrated；agreat lie is silenced for ever；and a great wrong is set right before all men.
CHARLES：My friend：provided they can no longer say that I was crowned by a witch and a heretic，I shall not fuss about how the trick has been done.Joan would not have fussed about it if it came all right in the end：she was not that sort：I knew her.Is her rehabilitation complete？I made it pretty clear that there was to be no nonsense about it.
LADVENU：It is solemnly declared that her judges were full of corruption，cozenage，fraud，and malice.Four falsehoods.
CHARLES：Never mind the falsehoods：her judges are dead.
LADVENU：The sentence on her is broken，annulled，annihilated，set aside as non－existent，without value or effect.
CHARLES：Good.Nobody can challenge my consecration now，can they？
LADVENU：Not Charlemagne nor King David himself was more sacredly crowned.
CHARLES：［rising］Excellent.Think of what that means to me！
LADVENU：I think of what it means to her！
CHARLES：You cannot.None of us ever knew what anything meant to her.She was like nobody else；and she must take care of herself wherever she is；for I cannot take care of her；and neither can you，whatever you may think：you are not big enough.But I will tell you this about her.If you could bring her back to life，they would burn her again within six months，for all their present adoration of her.And you would hold up the cross，too，just the same.So［crossing himself］let her rest；and let you and I mind our own business，and not meddle with hers.
LADVENU：God forbid that I should have no share in her，nor she in me！［He turns and strides out as he came，saying］Henceforth my path will not lie through palaces，nor my conversation be with kings.
CHARLES：［following him towards the door，and shouting after him］Much good may it do you，holy man！［He returns to the middle of the chamber，where he halts，and says quizzically to himself］That was a funny chap.How did he get in？Where are my people？［He goes impatiently to the bed，and swings the rattle.A rush of wind through the open door sets the walls swaying agitatedly.The candles go out.He calls in the darkness］Hallo！Someone come and shut the windows：everything is being blown all over the place.［A flash of summer lightning shews up the lancet window.A figure is seen in silhouette against it］Who is there？Who is that？Help！Murder！［Thunder.He jumps into bed，and hides under the clothes.］
JOAN’S VOICE：Easy，Charlie，easy.What art making all that noise for？No one can hear thee.Thourt asleep.［She is dimly seen in a pallid greenish light by the bedside.］
CHARLES：［peeping out］Joan！Are you a ghost，Joan？
JOAN：Hardly even that，lad.Can a poor burnt－up lass have a ghost？I am but a dream that thourt dreaming.［The light increases：they become plainly visible as he sits up］Thou looks older，lad.
CHARLES：I am older.Am I really asleep？
JOAN：Fallen asleep over thy silly book.
CHARLES：That’s funny.
JOAN：Not so funny as that I am dead，is it？
CHARLES：Are you really dead？
JOAN：As dead as anybody ever is，laddie.I am out of the body.
CHARLES：Just fancy！Did it hurt much？
JOAN：Did what hurt much？
CHARLES：Being burnt.
JOAN：Oh，that！I cannot remember very well.I think it did at first；but then it all got mixed up；and I was not in my right mind until I was free of the body.But do not thou go handling fire and thinking it will not hurt thee.How hast been ever since？
CHARLES：Oh，not so bad.Do you know，I actually lead my army out and win battles？Down into the moat up to my waist in mud and blood.Up the ladders with the stones and hot pitch raining down.Like you.
JOAN：No！Did I make a man of thee after all，Charlie？
CHARLES：I am Charles the Victorious now.I had to be brave because you were.Agnes put a little pluck into me too.
JOAN：Agnes！Who was Agnes？
CHARLES：Agnes Sorel.A woman I fell in love with.I dream of her often.I never dreamed of you before.
JOAN：Is she dead，like me？
CHARLES：Yes.But she was not like you.She was very beautiful.
JOAN：［laughing heartily］Ha ha！I was no beauty：I was always a rough one：a regular soldier.I might almost as well have been a man.Pity I wasnt：I should not have bothered you all so much then.But my head was in the skies；and the glory of God was upon me；and，man or woman，I should have bothered you as long as your noses were in the mud.Now tell me what has happened since you wise men knew no better than to make a heap of cinders⑨of me？
CHARLES：Your mother and brothers have sued the courts to have your case tried over again.And the courts have declared that your judges were full of corruption and cozenage⑩，fraud and malice.
JOAN：Not they.They were as honest a lot of poor fools as ever burned their betters.
CHARLES：The sentence on you is broken，annihilated，annulled：null，non－existent，without value or effect.
JOAN：I was burned，all the same.Can they unburn me？
CHARLES：If they could，they would think twice before they did it.But they have decreed that a beautiful cross be placed where the stake stood，for your perpetual memory and for your salvation.
JOAN：It is the memory and the salvation that sanctify the cross，not the cross that sanctifies the memory and the salvation.［She turns away，forgetting him］I shall outlast that cross.I shall be remembered when men will have forgotten where Rouen stood.
CHARLES：There you go with your self－conceit，the same as ever！I think you might say a word of thanks to me for having had justice done at last.
CAUCHON：［appearing at the window between them］Liar！
CHARLES：Thank you.
JOAN：Why，if it isnt Peter Cauchon！How are you，Peter？What luck have you had since you burned me？
CAUCHON：None.I arraign the justice of Man.It is not the justice of God.
JOAN：Still dreaming of justice，Peter？See what justice came to with me！But what has happened to thee？Art dead or alive？
CAUCHON：Dead.Dishonoured.They pursued me beyond the grave.They excommunicated my dead body：they dug it up and flung it into the common sewer.
JOAN：Your dead body did not feel the spade and the sewer as my live body felt the fire.
CAUCHON：But this thing that they have done against me hurts justice；destroys faith；saps the foundation of the Church.The solid earth sways like the treacherous
sea beneath the feet of men and spirits alike when the innocent are slain in the name of law，and their wrongs are undone by slandering the pure of heart.
JOAN：Well，well，Peter，I hope men will be the better for remembering me；and they would not remember me so well if you had not burned me.
CAUCHON：They will be the worse for remembering me：they will see in me evil triumphing over good，falsehood over truth，cruelty over mercy，hell over heaven.Their courage will rise as they think of you，only to faint as they think of me.Yet God is my witness I was just：I was merciful：I was faithful to my light：I could do no other than I did.
CHARLES：［scrambling out of the sheets and enthroning himself on the side of the bed］Yes：it is always you good men that do the big mischiefs.Look at me！I am not Charles the Good，nor Charles the Wise，nor Charles the Bold.Joan’s worshippers may even call me Charles the Coward because I did not pull her out of the fire.But I have done less harm than any of you.You people with your heads in the sky spend all your time trying to turn the world upside down；but I take the world as it is，and say that topside－up is right－side－up；and I keep my nose pretty close to the ground.And I ask you，what king of France has done better，or been a better fellow in his little way？
JOAN：Art really king of France，Charlie？Be the English gone？
DUNOIS：［coming through the tapestry on Joan’s left，the candles relighting themselves at the same moment，and illuminating his armor and surcoat cheerfully］I have kept my word：the English are gone.
JOAN：Praised be God！now is fair France a province in heaven.Tell me all about the fighting，Jack.Was it thou that led them？Wert thou God’s captain to thy death？
DUNOIS：I am not dead.My body is very comfortably asleep in my bed at Chateaudun；but my spirit is called here by yours.
JOAN：And you fought them my way，Jack：eh？Not the old way，chaffering
for ransoms；but The Maid’s way：staking life against death，with the heart high and humble and void of malice，and nothing counting under God but France free and French.Was it my way，Jack？
DUNOIS：Faith，it was any way that would win.But the way that won was always your way.I give you best，lassie.I wrote a fine letter to set you right at the new trial.Perhaps I should never have let the priests burn you；but I was busy fighting；and it was the Church’s business，not mine.There was no use in both of us being burned，was there？
CAUCHON：Ay！put the blame on the priests.But I，who am beyond praise and blame，tell you that the world is saved neither by its priests nor its soldiers，but by God and His Saints.The Church Militant sent this woman to the fire；but even as she burned，the flames whitened into the radiance of the Church Triumphant.
The clock strikes the third quarter.A rough male voice is heard trolling an improvised tune.
Rum tum trumpledum，
Bacon fat and rumpledum，
Old Saint mumpledum，
Pull his tail and stumpledum
O my Ma—ry Ann！
Aruffianly English soldier comes through the curtains and marches between Dunois and Joan.
DUNOIS：What villainous troubador taught you that doggrel？
THE SOLDIER：No troubadour.We made it up ourselves as we marched.We were not gentlefolks and troubadours.Music straight out of the heart of the people，as you might say.Rum tum trumpledum，Bacon fat and rumpledum，Old Saint mumpledum，Pull his tail and stumpledum：that dont mean anything，you know；but it keeps you marching.Your servant，ladies and gentlemen.Who asked for a saint？
JOAN：Be you a saint？
THE SOLDIER：Yes，lady，straight from hell.
DUNOIS：A saint，and from hell！
THE SOLDIER：Yes，noble captain：I have a day off.Every year，you know.Thats my allowance for my one good action.
CAUCHON：Wretch！In all the years of your life did you do only one good action？
THE SOLDIER：I never thought about it：it came natural like.But they scored it up for me.
CHARLES：What was it？
THE SOLDIER：Why，the silliest thing you ever heard of.I—
JOAN：［interrupting him by strolling across to the bed，where she sits beside Charles］He tied two sticks together，and gave them to a poor lass that was going to be burned.
THE SOLDIER：Right.Who told you that？
JOAN：Never mind.Would you know her if you saw her again？
THE SOLDIER：Not I.There are so many girls！and they all expect you to remember them as if there was only one in the world.This one must have been a prime sort；for I have a day off every year for her；and so，until twelve o’clock punctually，I am a saint，at your service，noble lords and lovely ladies.
CHARLES：And after twelve？
THE SOLDIER：After twelve，back to the only place fit for the likes of me.
JOAN：［rising］Back there！You！that gave the lass the cross！
THE SOLDIER：［excusing his unsoldierly conduct］Well，she asked for it；and they were going to burn her.She had as good a right to a cross as they had；and they had dozens of them.It was her funeral，not theirs.Where was the harm in it？
JOAN：Man：I am not reproaching you.But I cannot bear to think of you in torment.
THE SOLDIER：［cheerfully］No great torment，lady.You see I was used to worse.
CHARLES：What！worse than hell？
THE SOLDIER：Fifteen years’service in the French wars.Hell was a treat after that.
Joan throws up her arms，and takes refuge from despair of humanity before the picture of the Virgin.
THE SOLDIER：［continuing］—Suits me somehow.The day off was dull at first，like a wet Sunday.I dont mind it so much now.They tell me I can have as many as I like as soon as I want them.
CHARLES：What is hell like？
THE SOLDIER：You wont find it so bad，sir.Jolly.Like as if you were always drunk without the trouble and expense of drinking.Tip top company too：emperors and popes and kings and all sorts.They chip me about giving that young judy the cross；but I dont care：I stand up to them proper，and tell them that if she hadnt a better right to it than they，she’d be where they are.That dumbfounds them，that does.All they can do is gnash their teeth，hell fashion；and I just laugh，and go off singing the old chanty：Rum turn trample—Hullo！Who’s that knocking at the door？They listen.A long gentle knocking is heard.
CHARLES：Come in.
The door opens；and an old priest，white－haired，bent，with a silly but benevolent smile，comes in and trots over to Joan.
THE NEWCOMER：Excuse me，gentle lords and ladies.Do not let me disturb you.Only a poor old harmless English rector.Formerly chaplain to the cardinal：to my lord of Winchester.John de Stogumber，at your service.［He looks at them inquiringly］Did you say anything？I am a little deaf，unfortunately.Also a little—well，not always in my right mind，perhaps；but still，it is a small village with a few simple people.I suffice：I suffice：they love me there；and I am able to do a little good.I am well connected，you see；and they indulge me.
JOAN：Poor old John！What brought thee to this state？
DE STOGUMBER：I tell my folks they must be very careful.I say to them，“If you only saw what you think about you would think quite differently about it.It would give you a great shock.Oh，agreat shock.”And they all say“Yes，Parson：we all know you are a kind man，and would not harm a fly.”That is a great comfort to me.For I am not cruel by nature，you know.
THE SOLDIER：Who said you were？
DE STOGUMBER：Well，you see，I did a very cruel thing once because I did not know what cruelty was like.I had not seen it，you know.That is the great thing：you must see it.And then you are redeemed and saved.
CAUCHON：Were not the sufferings of our Lord Christ enough for you？
DE STOGUMBER：No.Oh no：not at all.I had seen them in pictures，and read of them in books，and been greatly moved by them，as I thought.But it was no use：it was not our Lord that redeemed me，but a young woman whom I saw actually burned to death.It was dreadful：oh，most dreadful.But it saved me.I have been a different man ever since，though a little astray in my wits sometimes.
CAUCHON：Must then a Christ perish in torment in every age to save those that have no imagination？
JOAN：Well，if I saved all those he would have been cruel to if he had not been cruel to me，I was not burnt for nothing，was I？
DE STOGUMBER：Oh no；it was not you.My sight is bad：I cannot distinguish your features：but you are not she：oh no：she was burned to a cinder：dead and gone，dead and gone.
THE EXECUTIONER：［stepping from behind the bed curtains on Charles’s right，the bed being between them］She is more alive than you，old man.Her heart would not burn；and it would not drown.I was a master at my craft：better than the master of Paris，better than the master of Toulouse；but I could not kill The Maid.She is up and alive everywhere.
THE EARL OF WARWICK：［sallying from the bed curtains on the other side，and coming to Joan’s left hand］Madam：my congratulations on your rehabilitation.I feel that I owe you an apology.
JOAN：Oh，please dont mention it.
WARWICK：［pleasantly］The burning was purely political.There was no personal feeling against you，I assure you.
JOAN：I bear no malice，my lord.
WARWICK：Just so.Very kind of you to meet me in that way：a touch of true breeding.But I must insist on apologizing very amply.The truth is，these political necessities sometimes turn out to be political mistakes；and this one was a veritable howler
；for your spirit conquered us，madam，in spite of our faggots.History will remember me for your sake，though the incidents of the connection were perhaps a little unfortunate.
JOAN：Ay，perhaps just a little，you funny man.
WARWICK：Still，when they make you a saint，you will owe your halo to me，just as this lucky monarch owes his crown to you.
JOAN：［turning from him］I shall owe nothing to any man：I owe everything to the spirit of God that was within me.But fancy me a saint！What would St Catherine and St Margaret say if the farm girl was cocked up beside them！A clerical－looking gentleman in black frockcoat and trousers，and tall hat，in the fashion of the year 1920，suddenly appears before them in the corner on their right.They all stare at him.Then they burst into uncontrollable laughter.
THE GENTLEMAN：Why this mirth
，gentlemen？
WARWICK：I congratulate you on having invented a most extraordinarily comic dress.
THE GENTLEMAN：I do not understand.You are all in fancy dress：I am properly dressed.
DUNOIS：All dress is fancy dress，is it not，except our natural skins？
THE GENTLEMAN：Pardon me：I am here on serious business，and cannot engage in frivolous discussions.［He takes out a paper，and assumes a dry official manner.］I am sent to announce to you that Joan of Arc，formerly known as The Maid，having been the subject of an inquiry instituted by the Bishop of Orleans—
JOAN：［interrupting］Ah！They remember me still in Orleans.
THE GENTLEMAN：［emphatically，to mark his indignation at the interruption］—by the Bishop of Orleans into the claim of the said Joan of Arc to be canonized as a saint—
JOAN：［again interrupting］But I never made any such claim.
THE GENTLEMAN：［as before］—the Church has examined the claim exhaustively in the usual course，and，having admitted the said Joan successively to the ranks of Venerable and Blessed，—
JOAN：［chuckling］Me venerable！
THE GENTLEMAN：—has finally declared her to have been endowed with heroic virtues and favored with private revelations，and calls the said Venerable and Blessed Joan to the communion of the Church Triumphant as Saint Joan.
JOAN：［rapt］Saint Joan！
THE GENTLEMAN：On every thirtieth day of May，being the anniversary of the death of the said most blessed daughter of God，there shall in every Catholic church to the end of time be celebrated a special office in commemoration of her；and it shall be lawful to dedicate a special chapel to her，and to place her image on its altar in every such church.And it shall be lawful and laudable for the faithful to kneel and address their prayers through her to the Mercy Seat.
JOAN：Oh no.It is for the saint to kneel.［She falls on her knees，still rapt.］
THE GENTLEMAN：［putting up his paper，and retiring beside the Executioner］In Basilica Vaticana，the sixteenth day of May，nineteen hundred and twenty.
DUNOIS：［raising Joan］Half an hour to burn you，dear Saint，and four centuries to find out the truth about you！
DE STOGUMBER：Sir：I was chaplain to the Cardinal of Winchester once.They always would call him the Cardinal of England.It would be a great comfort to me and to my master to see a fair statue to The Maid in Winchester Cathedral.Will they put one there，do you think？
THE GENTLEMAN：As the building is temporarily in the hands of the Anglican heresy，I cannot answer for that.
A vision of the statue in Winchester Cathedral is seen through the window.
DE STOGUMBER：Oh look！look！that is Winchester.
JOAN：Is that meant to be me？I was stiffer on my feet.
The vision fades.
THE GENTLEMAN：I have been requested by the temporal authorities of France to mention that the multiplication of public statues to The Maid threatens to become an obstruction to traffic.I do so as a matter of courtesy to the said authorities，but must point out on behalf of the Church that The Maid’s horse is no greater obstruction to traffic than any other horse.
JOAN：Eh！I am glad they have not forgotten my horse.
A vision of the statue before Rheims Cathedral appears.
JOAN：Is that funny little thing me too？
CHARLES：That is Rheims Cathedral where you had me crowned.It must be you.
JOAN：Who has broken my sword？My sword was never broken.It is the sword of France.
DUNOIS：Never mind.Swords can be mended.Your soul is unbroken；and you are the soul of France.
The vision fades.The Archbishop and the Inquisitor are now seen on the right and left of Cauchon.
JOAN：My sword shall conquer yet：the sword that never struck a blow.Though men destroyed my body，yet in my soul I have seen God.
CAUCHON：［kneeling to her］The girls in the field praise thee；for thou hast raised their eyes；and they see that there is nothing between them and heaven.
DUNOIS：［kneeling to her］The dying soldiers praise thee，because thou art a shield of glory between them and the judgment.
THE ARCHBISHOP：［kneeling to her］The princes of the Church praise thee，because thou hast redeemed the faith their worldlinesses have dragged through the mire.
WARWICK：［kneeling to her］The cunning counsellors praise thee，because thou hast cut the knots in which they have tied their own souls.
DE STOGUMBER：［kneeling to her］The foolish old men on their deathbeds praise thee，because their sins against thee are turned into blessings.
THE INQUISITOR：［kneeling to her］The judges in the blindness and bondage of the law praise thee，because thou hast vindicated
the vision and the freedom of the living soul.
THE SOLDIER：［kneeling to her］The wicked out of hell praise thee，because thou hast shewn them that the fire that is not quenched is a holy fire.
THE EXECUTIONER：［kneeling to her］The tormentors and executioners praise thee，because thou hast shewn that their hands are guiltless of the death of the soul.
CHARLES：［kneeling to her］The unpretending praise thee，because thou hast taken upon thyself the heroic burdens that are too heavy for them.
JOAN：Woe unto me when all men praise me！I bid you remember that I am a saint，and that saints can work miracles.And now tell me：shall I rise from the dead，and come back to you a living woman？
A sudden darkness blots out the walls of the room as they all spring to their feet in consternation.Only the figures and the bed remain visible.
JOAN：What！Must I burn again？Are none of you ready to receive me？
CAUCHON：The heretic is always better dead.And mortal eyes cannot distinguish the saint from the heretic.Spare them.［He goes out as he came.］
DUNOIS：Forgive us，Joan：we are not yet good enough for you.I shall go back to my bed.
［He also goes.］
WARWICK：We sincerely regret our little mistake；but political necessities，though occasionally erroneous，are still imperative；so if you will be good enough to excuse me—［He steals discreetly away.］
THE ARCHBISHOP：Your return would not make me the man you once thought me.The utmost I can say is that though I dare not bless you，I hope I may one day enter into your blessedness.Meanwhile，however—［He goes.］
THE INQUISITOR：I who am of the dead，testified that day that you were innocent.But I do not see how The Inquisition could possibly be dispensed with under existing circumstances.Therefore—［He goes.］
DE STOGUMBER：Oh，do not come back：you must not come back.I must die in peace.Give us peace in our time，O Lord！［He goes.］
THE GENTLEMAN：The possibility of your resurrection was not contemplated in the recent proceedings for your canonization.I must return to Rome for fresh instructions.［He bows formally，and withdraws.］
THE EXECUTIONER：As a master in my profession I have to consider its interests.And，after all，my first duty is to my wife and children.I must have time to think over this.［He goes.］
CHARLES：Poor old Joan！They have all run away from you except this blackguard who has to go back to hell at twelve o’clock.And what can I do but follow Jack Dunois’example，and go back to bed too？［He does so.］
JOAN：［sadly］Goodnight，Charlie.
CHARLES：［mumbling in his pillows］Goo ni.［He sleeps.The darkness envelops the bed.］
JOAN：［to the soldier］And you，my one faithful？What comfort have you for Saint Joan？
THE SOLDIER：Well，what do they all amount to，these kings and captains and bishops and lawyers and such like？They just leave you in the ditch to bleed to death；and the next thing is，you meet them down there，for all the airs they give themselves.What I say is，you have as good a right to your notions as they have to theirs，and perhaps better.［Settling himself for a lecture on the subject］You see，it’s like this.If—［the first stroke of midnight is heard softly from a distant bell.］Excuse me：apressing appointment—［He goes on tiptoe.］
The last remaining rays of light gather into a white radiance descending on Joan.The hour continues to strike.
JOAN：O God that madest this beautiful earth，when will it be ready to receive Thy saints？How long，O Lord，how long？
【注释】
①chateaux：an impressive country house（or castle）in France
②lancet：an acutely pointed Gothic arch，like a lance
③canopy：the transparent covering of an aircraft cockpit
④heretic：aperson who holds religious beliefs in conflict with the dogma of the Roman Catholic Church
⑤sorceress：one who practices magic
⑥perjury：criminal offense of making false statements under oath
⑦calumny：a false accusation of an offense or a malicious misrepresentation of someone’s words or actions
⑧defamation：a false accusation of an offense or a malicious misrepresentation of someone’s words or actions
⑨cinders：a fragment of incombustible matter left after a wood or coal or charcoal fire
⑩cozenage：a fraudulent business scheme
treacherous：dangerously unstable and unpredictable
chaffer：talk socially without exchanging too much information
howler：monkey of tropical South American forests having a loud howling cry
mirth：great merriment
vindicate：show to be right by providing justification or proof
【讨论题】
1.Read some biographical material on Joan of Arc.In what ways does Shaw’s Joan differ from the Joan of history？
2.To what extent do Joan’s own failings contribute to her downfall？To what extent do external forces cause her downfall？
3.Is Joan a failure in the end？Does she achieve something？Why？
4.Whose side is Shaw on in the play？Joan’s？Or the Church and Cauchon’s？Or both？Or neither？Explain.
5.Waiting for Godot
Samuel Beckett
【简介与赏析】
塞缪尔·贝克特（Samuel Beckett，1906—1989），荒诞派戏剧作家、小说家、诗人、评论家。爱尔兰裔，1927年毕业于都柏林三一学院，精通法语、意大利语。后旅居欧陆，历任教职，其间结识著名作家詹姆斯·乔伊斯，泽慧一生。1929年开始发表作品，有诗歌、短篇小说及文学评论等，后用英语、法语创作，并翻译为英文或法文。1938年发表第一部小说《莫尔菲》，1946年开始创作第一部法文小说《梅西埃与卡米埃》（1970年发表）。第二次世界大战期间，参加地下抵抗组织。战后出版长篇小说三部曲《莫洛伊》、《马洛纳正在死去》、《无名的人》。贝克特最高成就在于戏剧，《等待戈多》轰动世界文坛，后又出版《克拉普的最后一盘磁带》等多部剧作，并于1969年获得诺贝尔文学奖。后兴趣渐广，涉足广播节目、戏剧导演等领域。晚年患有肺气肿和帕金森氏症，1989年卒，与其妻合葬于巴黎。
贝克特被认为是最后一个现代主义以及第一个后现代主义者，其世界观与作品难一语道破。一般认为其作品从一个侧面反映了战后西方社会的精神危机。贝克特主张“只有没有情节，没有动作的艺术才算得上真正的艺术”，可视为罗兰·巴特所倡导的“零度写作”的绝好代表，其《等待戈多》被称为“一出任何事情都没有发生过的双料戏”。
《等待戈多》
《等待戈多》（法文原名En attendant Godot），又译为等待果陀，是一部两幕悲喜剧，1952年用法文发表，1953年首演。它是贝克特的代表作，也是第一部演出成功的荒诞派戏剧。
第一幕，流浪汉爱斯特拉冈（简称戈戈）和弗拉基米尔（简称狄狄）出现在一片荒凉之中，自称要等待戈多。苦等不成，尽是一些无聊言语与行为。后出现主仆二人，波卓和幸运儿。最后终于出现一个男孩，称是戈多的使者，告诉两位戈多第二天晚上来。
第二幕与第一幕无甚区别，仍然是两个流浪汉等待戈多，只是场景稍有变化，干枯的树上多了四五片新叶。两人的言语、行为一如前幕。波卓和幸运儿再次出现，只是波卓的眼睛瞎了，幸运儿成了哑巴。最后男孩又出场称戈多今天不来，明天准来。
该剧从不同的平面突出了西方人的幻灭感，突出没有目的的生活无休止的循环。该剧中戈多究竟何人，自首演以来引得许多猜测，贝克特本人的回答是：“我要是知道，早就在戏里说出来了。”
《等待戈多》的成功被看成是戏剧史上的一场革命，因为它没有情节，没有矛盾冲突，没有完整的人物形象，只有杂乱无章、胡言乱语与丑陋不堪、没有个性的几个人物。荒诞派戏剧旨在揭示生活的毫无意义及存在的荒谬。剧中人物大多生活在死亡和疯狂的阴影里，他们受尽痛苦却得不到荣光，他们都是典型的在等待的人——他们满怀希望耐心地等待，越是虔诚越是绝望，这表明了希望本身的荒诞性，也是理性的荒诞性。
【剧本选读】
Characters
Estragon：one of the two protagonists
Vladimir：the other protagonist of the two
Lucky：slave of Pozzo
Pozzo：the master who rules over Lucky
a boy：a servant of Mr.Godot
ACTⅠ
A country road.A tree.
Evening.
Estragon，sitting on a low mound，is trying to take off his boot.He pulls at it with both hands，panting.He gives up，exhausted，rests，tries again.
As before.
Enter Vladimir.
ESTRAGON：（giving up again）Nothing to be done.
VLADIMIR：（advancing with short，stiff strides，legs wide apart）I’m beginning to come round to that opinion.All my life I’ve tried to put it from me，saying Vladimir，be reasonable，you haven’t yet tried everything.And I resumed the struggle.（He broods，musing on the struggle.Turning to Estragon.）So there you are again.
ESTRAGON：Am I？
VLADIMIR：I’m glad to see you back.I thought you were gone forever.
ESTRAGON：Me too.
VLADIMIR：Together again at last！We’ll have to celebrate this.But how？（He reflects.）Get up till I embrace you.
ESTRAGON：（irritably）Not now，not now.
VLADIMIR：（hurt，coldly）May one inquire where His Highness spent the night？
ESTRAGON：In a ditch.
VLADIMIR：（admiringly）A ditch！Where？
ESTRAGON：（without gesture）Over there.
VLADIMIR：And they didn’t beat you？
ESTRAGON：Beat me？Certainly they beat me.
VLADIMIR：The same lot as usual？
ESTRAGON：The same？I don’t know.
VLADIMIR：When I think of it...all these years...but for me...where would you be...（Decisively.）You’d be nothing more than a little heap of bones at the present minute，no doubt about it.
ESTRAGON：And what of it？
VLADIMIR：（gloomily）It’s too much for one man.（Pause.Cheerfully.）On the other hand what’s the good of losing heart now，that’s what I say.We should have thought of it a million years ago，in the nineties.
ESTRAGON：Ah stop blathering①and help me off with this bloody thing.
VLADIMIR：Hand in hand from the top of the Eiffel Tower，among the first.We were respectable in those days.Now it’s too late.They wouldn’t even let us up.（Estragon tears at his boot.）What are you doing？
ESTRAGON：Taking off my boot.Did that never happen to you？
VLADIMIR：Boots must be taken off every day，I’m tired telling you that.Why don’t you listen to me？
ESTRAGON：（feebly）Help me！
VLADIMIR：It hurts？
ESTRAGON：（angrily）Hurts！He wants to know if it hurts！
VLADIMIR：（angrily）No one ever suffers but you.I don’t count.I’d like to hear what you’d say if you had what I have.
ESTRAGON：It hurts？
VLADIMIR：（angrily）Hurts！He wants to know if it hurts！
ESTRAGON：（pointing）You might button it all the same.
VLADIMIR：（stooping）True.（He buttons his fly.）Never neglect the little things of life.
ESTRAGON：What do you expect，you always wait till the last moment.
VLADIMIR：（musingly）The last moment...（He meditates.）Hope deferred maketh the something sick，who said that？
ESTRAGON：Why don’t you help me？
VLADIMIR：Sometimes I feel it coming all the same.Then I go all queer.（He takes off his hat，peers inside it，feels about inside it，shakes it，puts it on again.）How shall I say？Relieved and at the same time...（he searches for the word）...appalled.（With emphasis.）AP－PALLED.（He takes off his hat again，peers inside it.）Funny.（He knocks on the crown as though to dislodge②aforeign body，peers into it again，puts it on again.）Nothing to be done.（Estragon with a supreme effort succeeds in pulling off his boot.He peers inside it，feels about inside it，turns it upside down，shakes it，looks on the ground to see if anything has fallen out，finds nothing，feels inside it again，staring sightlessly before him.）Well？
ESTRAGON：Nothing.
VLADIMIR：Show me.
ESTRAGON：There’s nothing to show.
VLADIMIR：Try and put it on again.
ESTRAGON：（examining his foot）I’ll air it for a bit.
VLADIMIR：There’s man all over for you，blaming on his boots the faults of his feet.（He takes off his hat again，peers inside it，feels about inside it，knocks on the crown，blows into it，puts it on again.）This is getting alarming.（Silence.Vladimir deep in thought，Estragon pulling at his toes.）One of the thieves was saved.（Pause.）It’s a reasonable percentage.（Pause.）Gogo.
ESTRAGON：What？
VLADIMIR：Suppose we repented.
ESTRAGON：Repented what？
VLADIMIR：Oh...（He reflects.）We wouldn’t have to go into the details.ESTRAGON：Our being born？
Vladimir breaks into a hearty laugh which he immediately stifles，his hand pressed to his pubis，his face contorted.
VLADIMIR：One daren’t even laugh any more.
ESTRAGON：Dreadful privation③.
VLADIMIR：Merely smile.（He smiles suddenly from ear to ear，keeps smiling，ceases as suddenly.）It’s not the same thing.Nothing to be done.（Pause.）Gogo.
ESTRAGON：（irritably）What is it？
VLADIMIR：Did you ever read the Bible？
ESTRAGON：The Bible...（He reflects.）I must have taken a look at it.
VLADIMIR：Do you remember the Gospels？
ESTRAGON：I remember the maps of the Holy Land.Coloured they were.Very pretty.The Dead Sea was pale blue.The very look of it made me thirsty.That’s where we’ll go，I used to say，that’s where we’ll go for our honeymoon.We’ll swim.We’ll be happy.
VLADIMIR：You should have been a poet.
ESTRAGON：I was.（Gesture towards his rags.）Isn’t that obvious？
Silence.
VLADIMIR：Where was I...How’s your foot？
ESTRAGON：Swelling visibly.
VLADIMIR：Ah yes，the two thieves.Do you remember the story？
ESTRAGON：No.
VLADIMIR：Shall I tell it to you？
ESTRAGON：No.
VLADIMIR：It’ll pass the time.（Pause.）Two thieves，crucified at the same time as our Saviour.One—
ESTRAGON：Our what？
VLADIMIR：Our Saviour.Two thieves.One is supposed to have been saved and the other...（he searches for the contrary of saved）...damned.
ESTRAGON：Saved from what？
VLADIMIR：Hell.
ESTRAGON：I’m going.
He does not move.
VLADIMIR：And yet...（pause）...how is it—this is not boring you I hope—how is it that of the four Evangelists only one speaks of a thief being saved.The four of them were there—or thereabouts—and only one speaks of a thief being saved.（Pause.）Come on，Gogo，return the ball，can’t you，once in a while？
ESTRAGON：（with exaggerated enthusiasm）I find this really most extraordinarily interesting.
VLADIMIR：One out of four.Of the other three，two don’t mention any thieves at all and the third says that both of them abused him.
ESTRAGON：Who？
VLADIMIR：What？
ESTRAGON：What’s all this about？Abused who？
VLADIMIR：The Saviour.
ESTRAGON：Why？
VLADIMIR：Because he wouldn’t save them.
ESTRAGON：From hell？
VLADIMIR：Imbecile④！From death.
ESTRAGON：I thought you said hell.
VLADIMIR：From death，from death.
ESTRAGON：Well what of it？
VLADIMIR：Then the two of them must have been damned.
ESTRAGON：And why not？
VLADIMIR：But one of the four says that one of the two was saved.
ESTRAGON：Well？They don’t agree and that’s all there is to it.
VLADIMIR：But all four were there.And only one speaks of a thief being saved.Why believe him rather than the others？
ESTRAGON：Who believes him？
VLADIMIR：Everybody.It’s the only version they know.
ESTRAGON：People are bloody ignorant apes.
He rises painfully，goes limping to extreme left，halts，gazes into distance off with his hand screening his eyes，turns，goes to extreme right，gazes into distance.Vladimir watches him，then goes and picks up the boot，peers into it，drops it hastily.
VLADIMIR：Pah！
He spits.Estragon moves to center，halts with his back to auditorium.
ESTRAGON：Charming spot.（He turns，advances to front，halts facing auditorium.）Inspiring prospects.（He turns to Vladimir.）Let’s go.
VLADIMIR：We can’t.
ESTRAGON：Why not？
VLADIMIR：We’re waiting for Godot.
ESTRAGON：（despairingly）Ah！（Pause.）You’re sure it was here？
VLADIMIR：What？
ESTRAGON：That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR：He said by the tree.（They look at the tree.）Do you see any others？
ESTRAGON：What is it？
VLADIMIR：I don’t know.A willow.
ESTRAGON：Where are the leaves？
VLADIMIR：It must be dead.
ESTRAGON：No more weeping.
VLADIMIR：Or perhaps it’s not the season.
ESTRAGON：Looks to me more like a bush.
VLADIMIR：A shrub.
ESTRAGON：A bush.
VLADIMIR：A—.What are you insinuating⑤？That we’ve come to the wrong place？
ESTRAGON：He should be here.
VLADIMIR：He didn’t say for sure he’d come.
ESTRAGON：And if he doesn’t come？
VLADIMIR：We’ll come back tomorrow.
ESTRAGON：And then the day after tomorrow.
VLADIMIR：Possibly.
ESTRAGON：And so on.
VLADIMIR：The point is—
ESTRAGON：Until he comes.
VLADIMIR：You’re merciless.
ESTRAGON：We came here yesterday.
VLADIMIR：Ah no，there you’re mistaken.
ESTRAGON：What did we do yesterday？
VLADIMIR：What did we do yesterday？
ESTRAGON：Yes.
VLADIMIR：Why...（Angrily.）Nothing is certain when you’re about.
ESTRAGON：In my opinion we were here.
VLADIMIR：（looking round）You recognize the place？
ESTRAGON：I didn’t say that.
VLADIMIR：Well？
ESTRAGON：That makes no difference.
VLADIMIR：All the same...that tree...（turning towards auditorium）that bog...
ESTRAGON：You’re sure it was this evening？
VLADIMIR：What？
ESTRAGON：That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR：He said Saturday.（Pause.）I think.
ESTRAGON：You think.
VLADIMIR：I must have made a note of it.（He fumbles in his pockets，bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.）
ESTRAGON：（very insidious⑥）But what Saturday？And is it Saturday？Is it not rather Sunday？（Pause.）Or Monday？（Pause.）Or Friday？
VLADIMIR：（looking wildly about him，as though the date was inscribed in the landscape）
It’s not possible！
ESTRAGON：Or Thursday？
VLADIMIR：What’ll we do？
ESTRAGON：If he came yesterday and we weren’t here you may be sure he won’t come again today.
VLADIMIR：But you say we were here yesterday.
ESTRAGON：I may be mistaken.（Pause.）Let’s stop talking for a minute，do you mind？
VLADIMIR：（feebly）All right.（Estragon sits down on the mound.Vladimir paces agitatedly to and fro，halting from time to time to gaze into distance off.Estragon falls asleep.Vladimir halts finally before Estragon.）Gogo！...Gogo！...GOGO！Estragon wakes with a start.
ESTRAGON：（restored to the horror of his situation）I was asleep！（Despairingly.）Why will you never let me sleep？
VLADIMIR：I felt lonely.
ESTRAGON：I had a dream.
VLADIMIR：Don’t tell me！
ESTRAGON：I dreamt that—
VLADIMIR：DON’T TELL ME！
ESTRAGON：（gesture toward the universe）This one is enough for you？（Silence.）It’s not nice of you，Didi.Who am I to tell my private nightmares to if I can’t tell them to you？
VLADIMIR：Let them remain private.You know I can’t bear that.
ESTRAGON：（coldly）There are times when I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for us to part.
VLADIMIR：You wouldn’t go far.
ESTRAGON：That would be too bad，really too bad.（Pause.）Wouldn’t it，Didi，be really too bad？（Pause.）When you think of the beauty of the way.（Pause.）And the goodness of the wayfarers.（Pause.Wheedling.）Wouldn’t it，Didi？
VLADIMIR：Calm yourself.
ESTRAGON：（voluptuously）Calm...calm...The English say cawm.（Pause.）You know the story of the Englishman in the brothel？
VLADIMIR：Yes.
ESTRAGON：Tell it to me.
VLADIMIR：Ah stop it！
ESTRAGON：An Englishman having drunk a little more than usual proceeds to a brothel.The bawd asks him if he wants a fair one，a dark one or a red－haired one.Go on.
VLADIMIR：STOP IT！
Exit Vladimir hurriedly.Estragon gets up and follows him as far as the limit of the stage.Gestures of Estragon like those of a spectator encouraging apugilist⑦.Enter Vladimir.He brushes past Estragon，crosses the stage with bowed head.Estragon takes a step towards him，halts.
ESTRAGON：（gently）You wanted to speak to me？（Silence.Estragon takes a step forward.）You had something to say to me？（Silence.Another step forward.）Didi...
VLADIMIR：（without turning）.I’ve nothing to say to you.
ESTRAGON：（step forward）You’re angry？（Silence.Step forward.）Forgive me.（Silence.Step forward.Estragon lays his hand on Vladimir’s shoulder.）Come，Didi.（Silence.）Give me your hand.（Vladimir half turns.）Embrace me！（Vladimir stiffens.）Don’t be stubborn！（Vladimir softens.They embrace.Estragon recoils⑧.）You stink of garlic！
VLADIMIR：It’s for the kidneys.（Silence.Estragon looks attentively at the tree.）What do we do now？
ESTRAGON：Wait.
VLADIMIR：Yes，but while waiting.
ESTRAGON：What about hanging ourselves？
VLADIMIR：Hmm.It’d give us an erection.
ESTRAGON：（highly excited）An erection！
VLADIMIR：With all that follows.Where it falls mandrakes grow.That’s why they shriek when you pull them up.Did you not know that？
ESTRAGON：Let’s hang ourselves immediately！
VLADIMIR：From a bough？（They go towards the tree.）I wouldn’t trust it.
ESTRAGON：We can always try.
VLADIMIR：Go ahead.
ESTRAGON：After you.
VLADIMIR：No no，you first.
ESTRAGON：Why me？
VLADIMIR：You’re lighter than I am.
ESTRAGON：Just so！
VLADIMIR：I don’t understand.
ESTRAGON：Use your intelligence，can’t you？
Vladimir uses his intelligence.
VLADIMIR：（finally）I remain in the dark.
ESTRAGON：This is how it is.（He reflects.）The bough...the bough...（Angrily.）Use your head，can’t you？
VLADIMIR：You’re my only hope.
ESTRAGON：（with effort）Gogo light—bough not break—Gogo dead.Didi heavy—bough break—Didi alone.Whereas—
VLADIMIR：I hadn’t thought of that.
ESTRAGON：If it hangs you it’ll hang anything.
VLADIMIR：But am I heavier than you？
ESTRAGON：So you tell me.I don’t know.There’s an even chance.Or nearly.
VLADIMIR：Well？What do we do？
ESTRAGON：Don’t let’s do anything.It’s safer.
VLADIMIR：Let’s wait and see what he says.
ESTRAGON：Who？
VLADIMIR：Godot.
ESTRAGON：Good idea.
VLADIMIR：Let’s wait till we know exactly how we stand.
ESTRAGON：On the other hand it might be better to strike the iron before it freezes.
VLADIMIR：I’m curious to hear what he has to offer.Then we’ll take it or leave it.
ESTRAGON：What exactly did we ask him for？
VLADIMIR：Were you not there？
ESTRAGON：I can’t have been listening.
VLADIMIR：Oh...Nothing very definite.
ESTRAGON：A kind of prayer.
VLADIMIR：Precisely.
ESTRAGON：A vague supplication.
VLADIMIR：Exactly.
ESTRAGON：And what did he reply？
VLADIMIR：That he’d see.
ESTRAGON：That he couldn’t promise anything.
VLADIMIR：That he’d have to think it over.
ESTRAGON：In the quiet of his home.
VLADIMIR：Consult his family.
ESTRAGON：His friends.
VLADIMIR：His agents.
ESTRAGON：His correspondents.
VLADIMIR：His books.
ESTRAGON：His bank account.
VLADIMIR：Before taking a decision.
ESTRAGON：It’s the normal thing.
VLADIMIR：Is it not？
ESTRAGON：I think it is.
VLADIMIR：I think so too.
Silence.
ESTRAGON：（anxious）And we？
VLADIMIR：I beg your pardon？
ESTRAGON：I said，And we？
VLADIMIR：I don’t understand.
ESTRAGON：Where do we come in？
VLADIMIR：Come in？
ESTRAGON：Take your time.
VLADIMIR：Come in？On our hands and knees.
ESTRAGON：As bad as that？
VLADIMIR：Your Worship wishes to assert his prerogatives⑨？
ESTRAGON：We’ve no rights any more？
Laugh of Vladimir，stifled as before，less the smile.
VLADIMIR：You’d make me laugh if it wasn’t prohibited.
ESTRAGON：We’ve lost our rights？
VLADIMIR：（distinctly）We got rid of them.
Silence.They remain motionless，arms dangling，heads sunk，sagging at the knees.
ESTRAGON：（feebly）We’re not tied？（Pause.）We’re not—
VLADIMIR：Listen！
They listen，grotesquely rigid.
ESTRAGON：I hear nothing.
VLADIMIR：Hsst！（They listen.Estragon loses his balance，almost falls.He clutches the arm of Vladimir，who totters.They listen，huddled together.）Nor I.
Sighs of relief.They relax and separate.
ESTRAGON：You gave me a fright.
VLADIMIR：I thought it was he.
ESTRAGON：Who？
VLADIMIR：Godot.
ESTRAGON：Pah！The wind in the reeds.
VLADIMIR：I could have sworn I heard shouts.
ESTRAGON：And why would he shout？
VLADIMIR：At his horse.
【注释】
①blather：to talk foolishly
②dislodge：remove or force out from a position
③privation：a state of extreme poverty
④imbecile：of subnormal intelligence
⑤insinuate：give to understand
⑥insidious：beguiling but harmful
⑦pugilist：someone who fights with his fists for sport
⑧recoil：move back from an impact
⑨prerogative：a right reserved exclusively by aparticular person or group
【讨论题】
1.Describe the setting of Waiting for Godot and try to relate its stage direction with the main idea of this play.
2.Discuss and analyze the concept of time and personal memory in the play.
3.Talk about the recurring images/actions in the play.
4.Discuss the importance of“waiting”in the play.
5.Talk about the frequency phrase“nothing to be done”in this play.Is it really“nothing to be done”？
6.The Hairy Ape
Eugene O’Neill
【简介与赏析】
尤金·奥尼尔（Eugene O’Neill，1888—1953），美国20世纪三大剧作家之首。爱尔兰裔，生于纽约一家旅馆，童年不快，中年不幸，老年孤苦。大学肄业，流浪海外。1912年归国，立志戏剧，广学名家，又选修课程，并开始创作。1920年剧作《天边外》轰动百老汇，并获普利策奖，剧名初立。一生共获普利策奖4次，并于1936年获诺贝尔文学奖。奥尼尔将希腊古典戏剧、日本能剧等要素融入其创作中，并痴迷于中国道家思想，晚年寓所名为“道屋”（Tao House）。晚年患帕金森氏症，家庭不睦，1953年卒于波士顿一家旅馆。
奥尼尔性格抑郁，一生创作剧本45部，除《啊，荒野》外其他全为悲剧。早期以自然主义为主，后糅合象征主义、表现主义和意识流手法等现代手法，晚年回归现实主义。主要作品有《东航加迪夫》、《天边外》、《琼斯皇》、《毛猿》、《安娜·克利斯蒂》、《榆树下的欲望》、《悲悼》、《送冰的人来了》、《进入黑夜的漫长旅程》等，其中《榆树下的欲望》对我国剧作家曹禺的《雷雨》影响明显。
19世纪美国戏剧一味模仿欧洲，虽有剧作家惨淡经营，终难脱欧洲窠臼。奥尼尔是美国民族戏剧的奠基人，一洗浮沉，另辟新章，让美国戏剧赢得了世界声誉，有评论指出：“在奥尼尔之前，美国只有剧场；在奥尼尔之后，美国才有戏剧。”
《毛猿》
或出偶然，1922年对于英语现代文学来说是一个神圣的年份。该年出版了三本撼动英语文坛甚至世界文坛的作品，诗歌有艾略特的《荒原》，小说有乔伊斯的《尤利西斯》，而在戏剧方面就是兼有现实主义、表现主义和象征主义的《毛猿》。本剧主人公扬克是一艘远洋轮船上的司炉，以身强力壮赢得同伴的敬畏而自豪。但某次遭到一位旅客的侮辱，于是到处寻找生活地位，可恨四处碰壁，最后只好与动物园的一只大猩猩结交朋友，结果死于其大力拥抱之中。
该剧旨在说明，在冷酷无情的资本主义社会，像扬克这样的工人只能忍受非人的待遇，要想改变这种状况，只会遭到更加悲惨的结局。而进一步看，扬克只是人类的代表，故本剧表明，在非人化的现代社会，人类不可能得到真正的归属感。本剧作于20世纪20年代，正值表现主义戏剧鼎盛时期。剧中使用了各种象征手法，大量运用内心独白、幻象、梦境、音效、面具等主观表现方式，从而对各种人物的潜意识进行挖掘，并将其戏剧化，加之以现实主义笔调，整部剧作更显沉郁，无怪乎奥尼尔被视为美国戏剧的开山之祖。
【剧本选读】
Characters
Yank：the play’s antagonist who works as a Fireman on a Transatlantic Ocean Liner
Mildred Douglas：the frail，impetuous twenty－year－old daughter of the owner of Nazareth Steel
Mildred’s Aunt：a stuffy，fat，middle－aged aristocratic woman who is intensely critical of Mildred’s involvement in social work
Paddy：an old and wise Irishman who works with Yank as a fireman aboard the Ocean Liner
Long：a fireman aboard the Ocean Liner who preaches Marxism
The Secretary：a worker at the I.W.W.office in New York City
Gentleman：a member of the upper class
Second Engineer：the person who escorts Mildred Douglas into the stokehole of the Ocean Liner
The Guard：a worker at the prison where Yank is held after causing the Gentleman to miss his bus
SCENEⅡ
［Two days out.A section of the promenade①deck.MILDRED DOUGLAS and her aunt are discovered reclining in deck chairs.The former is a girl of twenty，slender，delicate，with a pale，pretty face marred by a self－conscious expression of disdainful superiority.She looks fretful，nervous and discontented，bored by her own anemia②Her aunt is a pompous and proud—and fat—old lady.She is a type even to the point of a double chin and lorgnettes.She is dressed pretentiously，as if afraid her face alone would never indicate her position in life.MILDRED is dressed all in white.
The impression to be conveyed by this scene is one of the beautiful，vivid life of the sea all about—sunshine on the deck in a great flood，the fresh sea wind blowing across it.In the midst of this，these two incongruous③，artificial figures，inert and disharmonious，the elder like a gray lump of dough touched up with rouge，the younger looking as if the vitality of her stock had been sapped before she was conceived，so that she is the expression not of its life energy but merely of the artificialities that energy had won for itself in the spending.］
MILDRED：（looking up with affected dreaminess）How the black smoke swirls back against the sky！Is it not beautiful？
AUNT：（without looking up）I dislike smoke of any kind.
MILDRED：My great－grandmother smoked a pipe—a clay pipe.
AUNT：（ruffling）Vulgar！
MILDRED：She was too distant a relative to be vulgar.Time mellows pipes.
AUNT：（pretending boredom but irritated）Did the sociology you took up at college teach you that—to play the ghoul on every possible occasion，excavating old bones？Why not let your great－grandmother rest in her grave？
MILDRED：（dreamily）With her pipe beside her—puffing in Paradise.
AUNT：（with spite）Yes，you are a natural born ghoul.You are even getting to look like one，my dear.
MILDRED：（in a passionless tone）I detest you，Aunt.（Looking at her critically）Do you know what you remind me of？Of a cold pork pudding against a background of linoleum④tablecloth in the kitchen of a—but the possibilities are wearisome.（She closes her eyes.）
AUNT：（with a bitter laugh）Merci for your candor.But since I am and must be your chaperon⑤—in appearance，at least—let us patch up some sort of armed truce.For my part you are quite free to indulge any pose of eccentricity that beguiles you—as long as you observe the amenities—
MILDRED：（drawling）The inanities？
AUNT：（going on as if she hadn’t heard）After exhausting the morbid thrills of social service work on New York’s East Side—how they must have hated you，by the way，the poor that you made so much poorer in their own eyes！—you are now bent on making your slumming international.Well，I hope Whitechapel will provide the needed nerve tonic.Do not ask me to chaperon you there，however.I told your father I would not.I loathe deformity.We will hire an army of detectives and you may investigate everything—they allow you to see.
MILDRED：（protesting with a trace of genuine earnestness）Please do not mock at my attempts to discover how the other half lives.Give me credit for some sort of groping sincerity in that at least.I would like to help them.I would like to be some use in the world.Is it my fault I don’t know how？I would like to be sincere，to touch life somewhere.（With weary bitterness）But I’m afraid I have neither the vitality nor integrity.All that was burnt out in our stock before I was born.Grandfather’s blast furnaces，flaming to the sky，melting steel，making millions—then father keeping those home fires burning，making more millions—and little me at the tail－end of it all.I’m a waste product in the Bessemer process—like the millions.Or rather，I inherit the acquired trait of the by－product，wealth，but none of the energy，none of the strength of the steel that made it.I am sired by gold and darned by it，as they say at the race track—damned in more ways than one.（She laughs mirthlessly.）
AUNT：（unimpressed—superciliously）You seem to be going in for sincerity today.It isn’t becoming to you，really—except as an obvious pose.Be as artificial as you are，I advise.There’s a sort of sincerity in that，you know.And，after all，you must confess you like that better.
MILDRED：（again affected and bored）Yes，I suppose I do.Pardon me for my outburst.When a leopard complains of its spots，it must sound rather grotesque.（In a mocking tone）Purr，little leopard.Purr，scratch，tear，kill，gorge yourself and be happy—only stay in the jungle where your spots are camouflage.In a cage they make you conspicuous.
AUNT：I don’t know what you are talking about.
MILDRED：It would be rude to talk about anything to you.Let’s just talk.（She looks at her wrist watch）Well，thank goodness，it’s about time for them to come for me.That ought to give me a new thrill，Aunt.
AUNT：（affectedly troubled）You don’t mean to say you’re really going？The dirt—the heat must be frightful—
MILDRED：Grandfather started as a puddler.I should have inherited an immunity to the heat that would make a salamander shiver.It will be fun to put it to the test.
AUNT：But don’t you have to have the captain’s—or someone’s—permission to visit the stokehole⑥？
MILDRED：（with a triumphant smile）I have it—both his and the chief engineer’s.Oh，they didn’t want to at first，in spite of my social service credentials.They didn’t seem a bit anxious that I should investigate how the other half lives and works on a ship.So I had to tell them that my father，the president of Nazareth Steel，chairman of the board of directors of this line，had told me it would be all right.
AUNT：He didn’t.
MILDRED：How na6ve age makes one！But I said he did，Aunt.I even said he had given me a letter to them—which I had lost.And they were afraid to take the chance that I might be lying.（Excitedly）So it’s ho！for the stokehole.The second engineer is to escort me.（Looking at her watch again）It’s time.And here he comes，I think.（The SECOND ENGINEER enters.He is a husky，fine－looking man of thirty－five or so.He stops before the two and tips his cap，visibly embarrassed and ill－at－ease.）
SECOND ENGINEER：Miss Douglas？
MILDRED：Yes.（Throwing off her rugs and getting to her feet）Are we all ready to start？
SECOND ENGINEER：In just a second，ma’am.I’m waiting for the Fourth.He’s coming along.
MILDRED：（with a scornful smile）You don’t care to shoulder this responsibility alone，is that it？
SECOND ENGINEER：（forcing a smile）Two are better than one.（Disturbed by her eyes，glances out to sea—blurts out）A fine day we’re having.
MILDRED：Is it？
SECOND ENGINEER：A nice warm breeze—
MILDRED：It feels cold to me.
SECOND ENGINEER：But it’s hot enough in the sun—
MILDRED：Not hot enough for me.I don’t like Nature.I was never athletic⑦.
SECOND ENGINEER：（forcing a smile）Well，you’ll find it hot enough where you’re going.
MILDRED：Do you mean hell？
SECOND ENGINEER：（flabbergasted，decides to laugh）Ho－ho！No，I mean the stokehole.
MILDRED：My grandfather was a puddler.He played with boiling steel.
SECOND ENGINEER：（all at sea—uneasily）Is that so？Hum，you’ll excuse me，ma’am，but are you intending to wear that dress？
MILDRED：Why not？
SECOND ENGINEER：You’ll likely rub against oil and dirt.It can’t be helped.
MILDRED：It doesn’t matter.I have lots of white dresses.
SECOND ENGINEER：I have an old coat you might throw over—
MILDRED：I have fifty dresses like this.I will throw this one into the sea when I come back.
That ought to wash it clean，don’t you think？
SECOND ENGINEER：（doggedly）There’s ladders to climb down that are none too clean—and dark alleyways—
MILDRED：I will wear this very dress and none other.
SECOND ENGINEER：No offense meant.It’s none of my business.I was only warning you—
MILDRED：Warning？That sounds thrilling.
SECOND ENGINEER：（looking down the deck—with a sigh of relief）—There’s the Fourth now.He’s waiting for us.If you’ll come—
MILDRED：Go on.I’ll follow you.（He goes.MILDRED turns a mocking smile on her aunt）An oaf—but a handsome，virile oaf.
AUNT：（scornfully）Poser！
MILDRED：Take care.He said there were dark alleyways—
AUNT：（in the same tone）Poser！
MILDRED：（biting her lips angrily）You are right.But would that my millions were not so anemically chaste⑧！
AUNT：Yes，for a fresh pose I have no doubt you would drag the name of Douglas in the gutter⑨！
MILDRED：From which it sprang.Good－by，Aunt.Don’t pray too hard that I may fall into the fiery furnace.
AUNT：Poser！
MILDRED：（viciously）Old hag！（She slaps her aunt insultingly across the face and walks off，laughing gaily）.
AUNT：（screams after her）I said poser！
CURTAIN
SCENEⅢ
［The stokehole.In the rear，the dimly－outlined bulks of the furnaces and boilers.High overhead one hanging electric bulb sheds just enough light through the murky air laden with coal dust to pile up masses of shadows everywhere.A line of men，stripped to the waist，is before the furnace doors.They bend over，looking neither to right nor left，handling their shovels as if they were part of their bodies，with a strange，awkward，swinging rhythm.They use the shovels to throw open the furnace doors.Then from these fiery round holes in the black a flood of terrific light and heat pours full upon the men who are outlined in silhouette in the crouching，inhuman attitudes of chained gorillas.The men shovel with a rhythmic motion，swinging as on a pivot from the coal which lies in heaps on the floor behind to hurl it into the flaming mouths before them.There is a tumult of noise—the brazen clang of the furnace doors as they are flung open or slammed shut，the grating，teeth－gritting grind of steel against steel，of crunching coal.This clash of sounds stuns one’s ears with its rending dissonance.But there is order in it，rhythm，a mechanical regulated recurrence，a tempo⑩.And rising above all，making the air hum with the quiver of liberated energy，the roar of leaping flames in the furnaces，the monotonous throbbing beat of the engines.
As the curtain rises，the furnace doors are shut.The men are taking a breathing spell.One or two are arranging the coal behind them，pulling it into more accessible heaps.The others can be dimly made out leaning on their shovels in relaxed attitudes of exhaustion.］
PADDY：（from somewhere in the line—plaintively）Yerra，will this divil’s own watch nivir end？Me back is broke.I’m destroyed entirely.
YANK：（from the center of the line—with exuberant scorn）Aw，yuh make me sick！Lie down and croak，why don’t yuh？Always beefin’，dat’s you！Say，dis is a cinch
！Dis was made for me！It’s my meat，get me！（A whistle is blown—a thin，shrill note from somewhere overhead in the darkness.YANK curses without resentment）Dere’s de damn engineer crackin’de whip.He tinks we’re loafin’.
PADDY：（vindictively）God stiffen him！
YANK：（in an exultant tone of command）Come on，youse guys！Git into de game！She’s gittin’hungry！Pile some grub
in her！Trow it into her belly！Come on now，all of youse！Open her up！（At this last all the men，who have followed his movements of getting into position，throw open their furnace doors with a deafening clang.The fiery light floods over their shoulders as they bend round for the coal.Rivulets of sooty sweat have traced maps on their backs.The enlarged muscles form bunches of high light and shadow.）
YANK：（chanting a count as he shovels without seeming effort）One—two—tree—（His voice rising exultantly in the joy of battle）Dat’s de stuff！Let her have it！All togedder now！Sling it into her！Let her ride！Shoot de piece now！Call de toin on her！Drive her into it！Feel her move！Watch her smoke！Speed，dat’s her middle name！Give her coal，youse guys！Coal，dat’s her booze！Drink it up，baby！Let’s see yuh sprint！Dig in and gain a lap！Dere she go－o－es.（This last in the chanting formula of the gallery gods at the six－day bike race.He slams his furnace door shut.The others do likewise with as much unison as their wearied bodies will permit.The effect is of one fiery eye after another being blotted out with a series of accompanying bangs.）
PADDY：（groaning）Me back is broke.I’m bate out—bate—（There is a pause.Then the inexorable whistle sounds again from the dim regions above the electric light.There is agrowl of cursing rage from all sides.）
YANK：（shaking his fist upward—contemptuously）Take it easy dere，you！Who d’yuh tink’s runnin’dis game，me or you？When I git ready，we move.Not before！When I git ready，get me！
VOICES：（approvingly）
That’s the stuff！
Yank tal him，py golly！
Yank ain’t afeerd.
Goot poy，Yank！
Give him hell！
Tell‘im’e’s a bloody swine！
Bloody slave－driver！
YANK：（contemptuously）He ain’t got no noive.He’s yellow，get me？All de engineers is yellow.Dey got streaks
a mile wide.Aw，to hell wit him！Let’s move，youse guys.We had a rest.Come on，she needs it！Give her pep
！It ain’t for him.Him and his whistle，dey don’t belong.But we belong，see！We gotter feed de baby！Come on！（He turns and flings his furnace door open.They all follow his lead.At this instant the SECOND and FOURTH ENGINEERS enter from the darkness on the left with MILDRED between them.She starts，turns paler，her pose is crumbling，she shivers with fright in spite of the blazing heat，but forces herself to leave the ENGINEERS and take a few steps nearer the men.She is right behind YANK.All this happens quickly while the men have their backs turned.）
YANK：Come on，youse guys！（He is turning to get coal when the whistle sounds again in a peremptory
，irritating note.This drives YANK into a sudden fury.While the other men have turned full around and stopped dumfounded
by the spectacle of MILDRED standing there in her white dress，YANK does not turn far enough to see her.Besides，his head is thrown back，he blinks upward through the murk trying to find the owner of the whistle，he brandishes his shovel murderously over his head in one hand，pounding on his chest，gorilla－like，with the other，shouting）Toin off dat whistle！Come down outa dere，yuh yellow，brass－buttoned，Belfast bum，yuh！Come down and I’ll knock yer brains out！Yuh lousy，stinkin’，yellow mut of a Catholicmoiderin’bastard！Come down and I’ll moider yuh！Pullin’dat whistle on me，huh？I’ll show yuh！I’ll crash yer skull in！I’ll drive yer teet’down yer troat！I’ll slam yer nose trou de back of yer head！I’ll cut yer guts out for a nickel，yuh lousy boob，yuh dirty，crummy，muck－eatin’son of a—（Suddenly he becomes conscious of all the other men staring at something directly behind his back.He whirls defensively with a snarling，murderous growl，crouching to spring，his lips drawn back over his teeth，his small eyes gleaming ferociously.He sees MILDRED，like a white apparition in the full light from the open furnace doors.He glares into her eyes，turned to stone.As for her，during his speech she had listened，paralyzed with horror，terror，her whole personality crushed，beaten in，collapsed，by the terrific impact of this unknown，abysmal brutality，naked and shameless.As she looks at his gorilla face，as his eyes bore into hers，she utters a low，choking cry and shrinks away from him，putting both hands up before her eyes to shut out the sight of his face，to protect her own.This startles YANK to a reaction.His mouth falls open，his eyes grow bewildered.）
MILDRED：（about to faint—to the ENGINEERS，who now have her one by each arm—whimperingly）Take me away！Oh，the filthy beast！（She faints.They carry her quickly back，disappearing in the darkness at the left，rear.An iron door clangs shut.Rage and bewildered fury rush back on YANK.He feels himself insulted in some unknown fashion in the very heart of his pride.）YANK：（he roars）God damn yuh！（And hurls his shovel after them at the door which has just closed.It hits the steel bulkhead with a clang and falls clattering on the steel floor.From overhead the whistle sounds again in a long，angry，insistent command.）
SCENEⅣ
［The firemen’s forecastle.YANK’s watch has just come off duty and had dinner.Their faces and bodies shine from a soap－and－water scrubbing but around their eyes，where a hasty dousing does not touch，the coal dust sticks like black make－up，giving them a queer，sinister expression.YANK has not washed either face or body.He stands out in contrast to them，a blackened，brooding figure.He is seated forward on a bench in the exact attitude of Rodin’s“The Thinker.”The others，most of them smoking pipes，are staring at YANK half－apprehensively，as if fearing an outburst；half－amusedly，as if they saw a joke somewhere that tickled them.］
VOICES：
He ain’t ate nothin’.
Py golly，a fallar gat to gat grub in him.
Divil a lie.
Yank feeda da fire，no feeda da face.
Ha－ha.
He ain’t even washed hisself.
He’s forgot.
Hey，Yank，you forgot to wash.
YANK：（sullenly）Forgot nothin’！To hell wit washin’.
VOICES：
It’ll stick to you.
It’ll get under your skin.
Give yer the bleedin’itch，that’s wot.
It makes spots on you—like a leopard.
Like a piebald
nigger，you mean.
Better wash up，Yank.
You sleep better.
Wash up，Yank.
Wash up！Wash up！
YANK：（resentfully）Aw say，youse guys.Lemme alone.Can’t youse see I’m tryin’to tink？
ALL：（repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery）Think！（The word has a brazen
，metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns.It is followed by a chorus of hard，barking laughter.）
YANK：（springing to his feet and glaring at them belligerently
）Yes，tink！Tink，dat’s what I said！What about it？（They are silent，puzzled by his sudden resentment at what used to be one of his jokes.YANK sits down again in the same attitude of“The Thinker”.）
VOICES：Leave him alone.
He’s got a grouch on.
Why wouldn’t he？
PADDY：（with a wink at the others）Sure I know what’s the matther.‘Tis aisy to see.He’s fallen in love，I’m telling you.
ALL：（repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery）Love！（The word has a brazen，metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns.It is followed by a chorus of hard，barking laughter.）
YANK：（with a contemptuous snort）Love，hell！Hate，dat’s what.I’ve fallen in hate，get me？
PADDY：（philosophically）‘Twould take a wise man to tell one from the other.（With a bitter，ironical scorn，increasing as he goes on）But I’m telling you it’s love that’s in it.Sure what else but love for us poor bastes in the stokehole would be bringing a fine lady，dressed like a white quane，down a mile of ladders and steps to be havin’a look at us？（A growl of anger goes up from all sides.）
LONG：（jumping on a bench—hecticlly）Hinsultin’us！Hinsultin’us，the bloody cow！And them bloody engineers！What right’as they got to be exhibitin’us’s if we was bleedin’monkeys in a menagerie
？Did we sign for hinsults to our dignity as’onest workers？Is that in the ship’s articles？You kin bloody well bet it ain’t！But I knows why they done it.I arsked a deck steward’o she was and’e told me.’Er old man’s a bleedin’millionaire，a bloody Capitalist！’E’s got enuf bloody gold to sink this bleedin’ship！’E makes arf the bloody steel in the world！’E owns this bloody boat！And you and me，Comrades，we’re’is slaves！And the skipper and mates and engineers，they’re’is slaves！And she’s’is bloody daughter and we’re all’er slaves too！And she gives’er orders as’ow she wants to see the bloody animals below decks and down they takes’er！（There is a roar of rage from all sides.）
YANK：（blinking at him bewilderedly）Say！Wait a moment！Is all dat straight goods？
LONG：Straight as string！The bleedin’steward as waits on’em，’e told me about’er.And what’re we goin’ter do，I arsks yer？’Ave we got ter swaller’er hinsults like dogs？It ain’t in the ship’s articles.I tell yer we got a case.We kin go ter law—
YANK：（with abysmal contempt）Hell！Law！
ALL：（repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery）Law！（The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns.It is followed by a chorus of hard，barking laughter.）
LONG：（feeling the ground slipping from under his feet—desperately）As voters and citizens we kin force the bloody governments—
YANK：（with abysmal contempt）Hell！Governments！
ALL：（repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery）Governments！（The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns.It is followed by a chorus of hard，barking laughter.）
LONG：（hysterically）We’re free and equal in the sight of God—
YANK：（with abysmal
contempt）Hell！God！
ALL：（repeating the word after him as one with cynical mockery）God！（The word has a brazen metallic quality as if their throats were phonograph horns.It is followed by a chorus of hard，barking laughter.）
YANK：（witheringly）Aw，join de Salvation Army！
ALL：Sit down！Shut up！Damn fool！Sea－lawyer！（LONG slinks back out of sight.）
PADDY：（continuing the trend of his thoughts as if he had never been interrupted—bitterly）And there she was standing behind us，and the Second pointing at us like a man you’d hear in a circus would be saying：In this cage is a queerer kind of baboon than ever you’d find in darkest Africy.We roast them in their own sweat—and be damned if you won’t heart some of thim saying they like it！（He glances scornfully at YANK.）
YANK：（with a bewildered uncertain growl）Aw！
PADDY：And there was Yank roarin’curses and turning round wid his shovel to brain her—and she looked at him，and him at her—
YANK：（slowly）She was all white.I tought she was a ghost.Sure.
PADDY：（with heavy，biting sarcasm）‘Twas love at first sight，divil a doubt of it！If you’d seen the endearin’look on her pale mug when she shriveled away with her hands over her eyes to shut out the sight of him！Sure，’twas as if she’d seen a great hairy ape escaped from the Zoo！
YANK：（stung—with a growl of rage）Aw！
PADDY：And the loving way Yank heaved his shovel at the skull of her，only she was out the door！（A grin breaking over his face）’Twas touching，I’m telling you！It put the touch of home，swate home in the stokehole.（There is a roar of laughter from all.）
YANK：（glaring at PADDY menacingly）Aw，choke dat off，see！
PADDY：（not heeding him—to the others）And her grabbin’at the Second’s arm for protection.（With a grotesque imitation of a woman’s voice）Kiss me，Engineer dear，for it’s dark down here and me old man’s in Wall Street making money！Hug me tight，darlin’，for I’m afeerd in the dark and me mother’s on deck makin’eyes at the skipper！（Another roar of laughter.）
YANK：（threateningly）Say！What yuh tryin’to do，kid me，yuh old Harp？
PADDY：Divil a bit！Ain’t I wishin’myself you’d brained her？
YANK：（fiercely）I’ll brain her！I’ll brain her yet，wait‘n’see！（Coming over to PADDY—slowly）Say，is dat what she called me—a hairy ape？
PADDY：She looked it at you if she didn’t say the word itself.
YANK：（grinning horribly）Hairy ape，huh？Sure！Dat’s de way she looked at me，aw right.Hairy ape！So dat’s me，huh？（Bursting into rage—as if she were still in front of him）Yuh skinny tart！Yuh white－faced bum，yuh！I’ll show yuh who’s a ape！（Turning to the others，bewilderment seizing him again）Say，youse guys.I was bawlin’him out for pullin’de whistle on us.You heard me.And den I seen youse lookin’at somep’n and I tought he’d sneaked down to come up in back of me，and I hopped round to knock him dead wit de shovel.And dere she was wit de light on her！Christ，yuh coulda pushed me over with a finger！I was scared，get me？Sure！I tought she was a ghost，see？She was all in white like dey wrap around stiffs.You seen her.Kin yuh blame me？She didn’t belong，dat’s what.And den when I come to and seen it was a real skoit and seen de way she was lookin’at me—like Paddy said—Christ，I was sore，get me？I don’t stand for dat stuff from nobody.And I flung de shovel—on’y she’d beat it.（Furiously）I wished it’d banged her！I wished it’d knocked her block off！
LONG：And be’anged for murder or‘lectrocuted？She ain’t bleedin’well worth it.
YANK：I don’t give a damn what！I’d be square wit her，wouldn’t I？Tink I wanter let her put somep’n over on me？Tink I’m goin’to let her git away wit dat stuff？Yuh don’t know me！No one ain’t never put nothin’over on me and got away wit it，see？—not dat kind of stuff—no guy and no skoit neither！I’ll fix her！Maybe she’ll come down again—
VOICE：No chance，Yank.You scared her out of a year’s growth.
YANK：I scared her？Why de hell should I scare her？Who de hell is she？Ain’t she de same as me？Hairy ape，huh？（With his old confident bravado）I’ll show her I’m better’n her，if she on’y knew it.I belong and she don’t，see！I move and she’s dead！Twentyfive knots a hour，dat’s me！Dat carries her but I make dat.She’s on’y baggage.Sure！（Again bewilderedly）But，Christ，she was funny lookin’！Did yuh pipe her hands？White and skinny.Yuh could see de bones through’em.And her mush，dat was dead white，too.And her eyes，dey was like dey’d seen a ghost.Me，dat was！Sure！Hairy ape！Ghost，huh？Look at dat arm！（He extends his right arm，swelling out the great muscles）I coulda too her wit dat，wit just my little finger even，and broke her in two.（Again bewilderedly）Say，who is dat skoit，huh？What is she？What’s she come from？Who made her？Who give her de noive to look at me like dat？Dis ting’s got my goat right.I don’t get her.She’s new to me.What does a skoit like her mean，huh？She don’t belong，get me！I can’t see her.（With growing anger）But one ting I’m wise to，aw right，aw right！Youse all kin bet your shoits I’ll git even wit her.I’ll show her if she tinks she—She grinds de organ and I’m on de string，huh？I’ll fix her！Let her come down again and I’ll fling her in de furnace！She’ll move den！She won’t shiver at nothin’，den！Speed，dat’ll be her！She’ll belong den！（He grins horribly.）
PADDY：She’ll never come.She’s had her belly－full，I’m telling you.She’ll be in bed now，I’m thinking，wid ten doctors and nurses feedin’her salts to clean the fear out of her.
YANK：（enraged）Yuh tink I made her sick，too，do yuh？Just lookin’at me，huh？Hairy ape，huh？（In a frenzy of rage）I’ll fix her！I’ll tell her where to git off！She’ll git down on her knees and take it back or I’ll bust de face offen her！（Shaking one fist upward and beating on his chest with the other）I’ll find yuh！I’m comin’，d’yuh hear？I’ll fix yuh，God damn yuh！（He makes a rush for the door.）
VOICES：
Stop him！
He’ll get shot！
He’ll murder her！
Trip him up！
Hold him！
He’s gone crazy！
Gott，he’s strong！
Hold him down！
Look out for a kick！
Pin his arms！
（They have piled on him and，after a fierce struggle，by sheer weight of numbers have borne him to the floor just inside the door.）
PADDY：（who has remained detached）Kape him down till he’s cooled off.（Scornfully）
Yerra，Yank，you’re a great fool.Is it payin’attention at all you are to the like of that skinny sow widout one drop of rale blood in her？
YANK：（frenziedly
，from the bottom of the heap）She done me doit！She done me doit，didn’t she？I’ll git square wit her！I’ll get her some way！Git offen me，youse guys！Lemme up！I’ll show her who’s a ape！
CURTAIN
【注释】
①promenade：take a leisurely walk
②anemia：a deficiency of red blood cells
③incongruous：lacking in harmony or compatibility or appropriateness
④linoleum：a floor covering
⑤chaperon：one who accompanies and supervises a young woman or gatherings of young people
⑥stokehole：（nautical）chamber or compartment in which the furnaces of a ship are stoked or fired
⑦athletic：vigorously active
⑧chaste：morally pure
⑨gutter：a channel along the eaves or on the roof；collects and carries away rainwater
⑩tempo：the rate of some repeating event
cinch：any undertaking that is easy to do
grub：informal terms for a meal
streak：move quickly in a straight line
pep：liveliness and energy
peremptory：offensively self－assured or given to exercising usually unwarranted power
dumfounded：speechless
piebald：having sections or patches colored differently and usually brightly
brazen：made of or resembling brass（as in color or hardness）
belligerently：in a belligerent hostile manner
menagerie：a collection of live animals for study or display
abysmal：extremely bad or of a very low standard
frenziedly：in an uncontrollable manner
【讨论题】
1.How does O’Neill use voices and nameless characters in the play？
2.How do these“voices”comment on the text？How do symbols function within The Hairy Ape？Why do you think O’Neill chose to use such heavy symbolism in the text？How do they work thematically？
3.Why does O’Neill choose to place Yank in the position of Rodin’s“The Thinker”？How does this comment on the life of the industrial worker and Yank’s capability for thought？
7.A Streetcar Named Desire
Tennessee Williams
【简介与赏析】
田纳西·威廉斯（Tennessee Williams）是其笔名，他的原名为托马斯·拉尼尔·威廉斯三世（Thomas Lanier WilliamsⅢ，1911—1983），美国20世纪三大戏剧家之一。童年生活压抑，家庭混乱不安。十三岁开始练习写作，十六岁散文获奖，次年处女作发表。1935年第一部剧作《开罗！上海！孟买！》公演成功，遂决心从文。后虽几经挫折，终不违故志，惟砚作田，并在多所大学学习。1939年，在小说《蓝孩子的田野》中第一次使用笔名田纳西·威廉斯，留名至今。1945年，《玻璃动物园》上演，好评如潮，连演两年，并获得了纽约剧作家协会奖，剧名初扬。1947年，《欲望号街车》上演，剧坛轰动，获得普利策奖和戏剧评论奖，剧名乃定。一生笔耕不辍，以《热铁皮屋顶上的猫》再获普利策奖和戏剧评论奖，以《大蜥蜴之夜》再获纽约戏剧评论奖。1980年他获得美国总统吉米·卡特授予的总统自由奖章。
威廉斯不仅创作戏剧作品，还与好莱坞合作，改编自己的剧作并搬上银幕。他的作品不再注重以往现实主义作品的道德、社会、政治批评，而是更关注“心理现实主义”，将注意力集中到有心理创伤的边缘化的个人身上，用诗化的语言和抒情的风格表现他们内在的动物性心理。他的戏剧语言娴熟准确，而且在灯光、布景、音乐等非语言表现形式的运用上也为美国戏剧开创了先河。
《欲望号街车》
《欲望号街车》是美国文学史上最经典的剧作之一，曾被改编成各种舞台剧。自上演以来，该剧囊括了美国所有重要的戏剧奖项。1951年，华纳兄弟公司出品了由威廉斯本人执笔改编的电影，后亦被多次改编为歌剧、芭蕾舞剧等。本剧讲述了一位南方贵族美女布兰奇的悲剧人生。徐娘半老的布兰奇乘一辆叫“欲望”的电车进城投靠妹妹。她自称是教师，因身体不好而辞职休养，其实她是因为行为不检点而被迫离职。在妹妹家她结识了一个忠厚的男人，两人很快到了谈婚论嫁的地步，不料妹夫抖搂了其底细，使其男友离她而去。布兰奇寂寞难耐，后来竟对妹夫卖弄风情，妹夫情欲大作，乘妻子入院分娩之机强奸了布兰奇。布兰奇更加失魂落魄，最后被妹夫强行送进了疯人院。
评论界认为布兰奇其实是威廉斯与其患精神病的姐姐萝丝的写照。布兰奇这一迟暮美人可谓是美国没落南方的代表，她具有萝丝的神经质，敏感脆弱，但又有南方仕女的高贵；而她所患的灵与肉的分裂症却是威廉斯所具有的，她对美与诗无穷的向往，在肉欲的堕落中挣扎寻找救赎，这完全是威廉斯本人的经历。剧中运用了象征主义和表现主义等表现手法，比如整部剧作中充斥着猫的尖叫等各种非人化的声音，增添了场景张力，展示了现代美国社会工业化进程中传统南方和现代北方之间的冲突，揭示了剧中男女主人公隐秘、阴暗和狂暴、粗鲁的性格和心理，从而演绎了一幕现代社会堕落的悲剧。
【剧本选读】
Characters
Blanche Dubois：the complicated protagonist of the play，the older sister of Stella Kowalski
Stella Kowalski：Blanche’s younger sister，about twenty－five years old and pregnant with her first child，madly in love with her husband Stanley
Stanley Kowalski：a factory worker，aged 28－30
Eunice：Stella’s friend，upstairs neighbour，and landlady
Steve：Stanley’s poker buddy who lives upstairs with his wife，Eunice
Harold Mitchell：Mitch is one of Stanley’s friends from the factory as well as one of his poker buddies
Pablo Gonzales：one of the poker players，who punctuates games with Spanish phrases
Negro Woman：a non－naturalistic character
ACTⅠ SCENEⅠ
The exterior of a two－story corner building on a street in New Orleans which is named Elysian Fields①and runs between the L ＆N tracks and the river.The section is poor but，unlike corresponding sections in other American cities，it has a raffish charm.The houses are mostly white frame，weathered grey，with rickety outside stairs and galleries and quaintly ornamented gables.This building contains two flats，upstairs and down.Faded white stairs ascend to the entrances of both.
It is first dark of an evening early in May.The sky that shows around the dim white building is a peculiarly tender blue，almost a turquoise，which invests the scene with a kind of lyricism and gracefully attenuates②the atmosphere of decay.You can almost feel the warm breath of the brown river beyond the river warehouses with their faint redolences③of bananas and coffee.A corresponding air is evoked by the music of Negro entertainers at a barroom around the corner.In this part of New Orleans you are practically always just around the corner，or a few doors down the street，from a tinny piano being played with the infatuated fluency of brown fingers.This“Blue Piano”expresses the spirit of the life which goes on here.
Two women，one white and one colored，are taking the air on the steps of the building.The white woman is Eunice，who occupies the upstairs flat；the colored woman a neighbor，for New Orleans is a cosmopolitan city where there is a relatively warm and easy intermingling of races in the old part of town.Above the music of the“Blue Piano”the voices of people on the street can be heard overlapping.Two men come around the corner，Stanley Kowalski and Mitch.They are about twenty－eight or thirty years old，roughly dressed in blue denim work clothes.Stanley carries his bowling jacket and a red－stained package from a butcher’s.They stop at the foot of the steps.
STANLEY：（bellowing）
Hey，there！Stella，baby！
（Stella comes out on the first floor landing，agentle young woman，about twentyfive，and of a background obviously quite different from her husband’s.）
STELLA（mildly）
Don’t holler（shout）at me like that.Hi，Mitch.
STANLEY：Catch！
STELLA：What？
STANLEY：Meat！
（He heaves the package at her.She cries out in protest but manages to catch it；then she laughs breathlessly.Her husband and his companion have already started back around the corner.）
STELLA：（calling after him）Stanley！Where are you going？
STANLEY：Bowling！
STELLA：Can I come watch？
STANLEY：Come on.（He goes out.）
STELLA：Be over soon.（To the white woman）Hello，Eunice.How are you？
EUNICE：I’m all right.Tell Steve to get him a poor boy’s sandwich’cause nothing’s left here.
（They all laugh；the colored woman does not stop.Stella goes out.）
COLORED WOMAN：What was that package he th’ew at’er？（She rises from steps，laughing louder.）
EUNICE：You hush，now！
NEGRO WOMAN：Catch what！
（She continues to laugh.Blanche comes around the corner，carrying a valise.She looks at a slip of paper，then at the building，then again at the slip and again at the building.Her expression is one of shocked disbelief.Her appearance is incongruous（not in agreement）to this setting.She is daintily dressed in a white suit with a fluffy bodice，necklace and earrings of pearl，white gloves and hat，looking as if she were arriving at a summer tea or cocktail party in the garden district.She is about five years older than Stella.Her delicate beauty must avoid a strong light.There is something about her uncertain manner，as well as her white clothes，that suggests a moth.）
EUNICE：（finally）What’s the matter，honey？Are you lost？
BLANCHE：（with faintly hysterical humor）They told me to take a street－car named Desire，and then transfer to one called Cemeteries and ride six blocks and get off at—Elysian Fields！
EUNICE：That’s where you are now.
BLANCHE：At Elysian Fields？
EUNICE：This here is Elysian Fields.
BLANCHE：They mustn’t have—understood—what number I wanted...
EUNICE：What number you lookin’for？
（Blanche wearily refers to the slip of paper.）
BLANCHE：Six thirty－two.
EUNICE：You don’t have to look no further.
BLANCHE：（uncomprehendingly）I’m looking for my sister，Stella DuBois.I mean—Mrs.Stanley Kowalski.
EUNICE：That’s the party.—You just did miss her，though.
BLANCHE：This—can this be—her home？
EUNICE：She’s got the downstairs here and I got the up.BLANCHE：Oh.She’s—out？
EUNICE：You noticed that bowling alley around the corner？
BLANCHE：I’m—not sure I did.
EUNICE：Well，that’s where she’s at，watchin’her husband bowl.（There is a pause.）
You want to leave your suitcase here an’go find her？
BLANCHE：No.
NEGRO WOMAN：I’ll go tell her you come.
BLANCHE：Thanks.
NEGRO WOMAN：You welcome.（She goes out.）
EUNICE：She wasn’t expecting you？
BLANCHE：No.No，not tonight.
EUNICE：Well，why don’t you just go in and make yourself at home till they get back.
BLANCHE：How could I—do that？
EUNICE：We own this place so I can let you in.
（She gets up and opens the downstairs door.A light goes on behind the blind，turning it light blue.Blanche slowly follows her into the downstairs flat.The surrounding areas dim out as the interior is lighted.）
（Two rooms can be seen，not too clearly defined.The one first entered is primarily a kitchen but contains a folding bed to be used by Blanche.The room beyond this is a bed room.Off this room is a narrow door to a bathroom.）
EUNICE：（defensively，noticing Blanche’s look）It’s sort of messed up right now but when it’s clean it’s real sweet.
BLANCHE：Is it？
EUNICE：Uh－huh，I think so.So you’re Stella’s sister？
BLANCHE：Yes.（wanting to get rid of her）Thanks for letting me in.
EUNICE：Por nada，as the Mexicans say，por nada！Stella spoke of you.
BLANCHE：Yes？
EUNICE：I think she said you taught school.
BLANCHE：Yes.
EUNICE：And you’re from Mississippi，huh？
BLANCHE：Yes.
EUNICE：She showed me a piture of your home－place，the plantation.
BLANCHE：Belle Reve？
EUNICE：A great big place with white columns.
BLANCHE：Yes...
EUNICE：A place like that must be awful hard to keep up.
BLANCHE：If you will excuse me，I’m just about to drop.
EUNICE：Sure，honey.Why don’t you set down？
BLANCHE：What I meant was I’d like to be left alone.
EUNICE：（offended）Aw.I’ll make myself scarce，in that case.
BLANCHE：I didn’t mean to be rude，but—
EUNICE：I’ll drop by the bowling alley an’hustle her up.（She goes out the door.）（Blanche sits in a chair very stiffly with her shoulders slightly hunched and her legs pressed close together and her hands tightly clutching her purse as if she were quite cold.After a while the blind look goes out of her eyes and she begins to look slowly around.A cat screeches.She catches her breath with a startled gesture.Suddenly she notices something in a half－opened closet.She springs up and crosses to it，and removes a whiskey bottle.She pours a half tumbler of whiskey and tosses it down.She carefully replaces the bottle and washes out the tumbler at the sink.Then she resumes her seat in front of the table.）
BLANCHE：（faintly to herself）I’ve got to keep hold of myself！
（Stella comes quickly around the corner of the building and runs to the door of the downstairs flat.）
STELLA：（calling out joyfully）Blanche！
（For a moment they stare at each other.Then Blanche springs up and runs to her with a wild cry.）
BLANCHE：Stella，oh，Stella，Stella！Stella for Star！
（She begins to speak with feverish vivacity as if she feared for either of them to stop and think.They catch each other in a spasmodic④embrace.）
BLANCHE：Now，then，let me look at you.But don’t you look at me，Stella，no，no，no，not till later，not till I’ve bathed and rested！And turn that over－light off！Turn that off！I won’t be looked at in this merciless glare！（Stella laughs and complies.）Come back here now！Oh，my baby！Stella！Stella for Star！（She embraces her again.）I thought you would never come back to this horrible place！What am I saying？I didn’t mean to say that.I meant to be nice about it and say—Oh，what a convenient location and such—Ha－a－ha！Precious lamb！You haven’t said a word to me.
STELLA：You haven’t given me a chance to，honey！（She laughs，but her glance at Blanche is a little anxious.）
BLANCHE：Well，now you talk.Open your pretty mouth and talk while I look around for some liquor！I know you must have some liquor on the place！Where could it be，I wonder？Oh，I spy，I spy！
（She rushes to the closet and removes the bottle；she is shaking all over and panting for breath as she tries to laugh.The bottle nearly slips from her grasp.）
STELLA：（noticing）Blanche，you sit down and let me pour the drinks.I don’t know what we’ve got to mix with.Maybe a coke’s in the icebox.Look’n see，honey，while I’m—
BLANCHE：No coke，honey，not with my nerves tonight！Where—where—where is—？
STELLA：Stanley？Bowling！He loves it.They’re having a—found some soda！—tournament...
BLANCHE：Just water，baby，to chase it！Now don’t get worried，your sister hasn’t turned into a drunkard，she’s just all shaken up and hot and tired and dirty！You sit down，now，and explain this place to me！What are you doing in a place like this？
STELLA：Now，Blanche—
BLANCHE：Oh，I’m not going to be hypocritical⑤，I’m going to be honestly critical about it！Never，never，never in my worst dreams could I picture—Only Poe！Only Mr.Edgar Allan Poe⑥！—could do it justice！Out there I suppose is the ghoul－haunted woodland of Weir.（She laughs.）
STELLA：No，honey，those are the L ＆N tracks.
BLANCHE：No，now seriously，putting joking aside.Why didn’t you tell me，why didn’t you write me，honey，why didn’t you let me know？
STELLA：（carefully，pouring herself a drink）Tell you what，Blanche？
BLANCHE：Why，that you had to live in these conditions！
STELLA：Aren’t you being a little intense about it？It’s not that bad at all！New Orleans isn’t like other cities.
BLANCHE：This has got nothing to do with New Orleans.You might as well say—forgive me，blessed baby！（She suddenly stops short.）The subject is closed！
STELLA：（a little drily）Thanks.
（During the pause，Blanche stares at her.She smiles at Blanche.）
BLANCHE：（looking down at her glass，which shakes in her hand）You’re all I’ve got in the world，and you’re not glad to see me！
STELLA：（sincerely）Why，Blanche，you know that’s not true.
BLANCHE：No？I’d forgotten how quiet you were.
STELLA：You never did give me a chance to say much，Blanche.So I just got in the habit of being quiet around you.
BLANCHE：（vaguely）A good habit to get into...（then，abruptly）You haven’t asked me how I happened to get away from the school before the spring term ended.
STELLA：Well，I thought you’d volunteer that information—if you wanted to tell me.
BLANCHE：You thought I’d been fired？
STELLA：No，I—thought you might have—resigned...
BLANCHE：I was so exhausted by all I’d been through my—nerves broke.（nervously tamping cigarette）I was on the verge of—lunacy，almost！So Mr.Graves—Mr.Graves is the high school superintendent—he suggested I take a leave of absence.I couldn’t put all of those details into the wire...（She drinks quickly.）Oh，this buzzes right through me and feels so good！
STELLA：Won’t you have another？
BLANCHE：No，one’s my limit.
STELLA：Sure？
BLANCHE：You haven’t said a word about my appearance.
STELLA：You look just fine.
BLANCHE：God love you for a liar！Daylight never exposed so total a ruin！But you—you’ve put on some weight，yes，you’re just as plump as a little partridge！And it’s so becoming to you！
STELLA：Now，Blanche—
BLANCHE：Yes，it is，it is or I wouldn’t say it！You just have to watch around the hips a little.Stand up.
STELLA：Not now.
BLANCHE：You hear me？I said stand up！（Stella complies reluctantly.）You messy child，you，you’ve spilt something on that pretty white lace collar！About your hair—you ought to have it cut in a feather bob with your dainty features.Stella，you have a maid，don’t you？
STELLA：No.With only two rooms，it’s—
BLANCHE：What？Two rooms，did you say？
STELLA：This one and—（She is embarrassed.）
BLANCHE：The other one？（She laughs sharply.There is an embarrassed silence.）
BLANCHE：I am going to take just one little tiny nip more，sort of to put the stopper on，so to speak...Then put the bottle away so I won’t be tempted.（She rises.）I want you to look at my figure！（She turns around.）You know I haven’t put on one ounce in ten years，Stella？I weigh what I weighed the summer you left Belle Reve.The summer Dad died and you left us...
STELLA：（a little wearily）It’s just incredible，Blanche，how well you’re looking.
BLANCHE：（They both laugh uncomfortably.）But，Stella，there’s only two rooms，I don’t see where you’re going to put me！
STELLA：We’re going to put you in here.
BLANCHE：What kind of bed’s this—one of those collapsible things？（She sits on it.）
STELLA：Does it feel all right？
BLANCHE：（dubiously）Wonderful，honey.I don’t like a bed that gives much.But there’s no door between the two rooms，and Stanley—will it be decent？
STELLA：Stanley is Polish，you know.
BLANCHE：Oh，yes.They’re something like Irish，aren’t they？
STELLA：Well—
BLANCHE：Only not so—highbrow⑦？（They both laugh again in the same way.）I brought some nice clothes to meet all your lovely friends in.
STELLA：I’m afraid you won’t think they are lovely.
BLANCHE：What are they like？
STELLA：They’re Stanley’s friends.
BLANCHE：Polacks⑧？
STELLA：They’re a mixed lot，Blanche.
BLANCHE：Heterogeneous⑨—types？
STELLA：Oh，yes.Yes，types is right！
BLANCHE：Well—anyhow—I brought nice clothes and I’ll wear them.I guess you’re hoping I’ll say I’ll put up at a hotel，but I’m not going to put up at a hotel.I want to be near you，got to be with somebody，I can’t be alone！Because—as you must have noticed—I’m—not very well...（Her voice drops and her look is frightened.）
STELLA：You seem a little bit nervous or overwrought or something.
BLANCHE：Will Stanley like me，or will I be just a visiting in－law，Stella？I couldn’t stand that.
STELLA：You’ll get along fine together，if you’ll just try not to—well—compare him with men that we went out with at home.
BLANCHE：Is he so—different？
STELLA：Yes.A different species.
BLANCHE：In what way；what’s he like？
STELLA：Oh，you can’t describe someone you’re in love with！Here’s a picture of him！
（She hands a photograph to Blanche.）
BLANCHE：An officer？
STELLA：A Master Sergeant in the Engineers’Corps.Those are decorations！
BLANCHE：He had those on when you met him？
STELLA：I assure you I wasn’t just blinded by all the brass.
BLANCHE：That’s not what I—
STELLA：But of course there were things to adjust myself to later on.
BLANCHE：Such as his civilian background！（Stella laughs uncertainly.）How did he take it when you said I was coming？
STELLA：Oh，Stanley doesn’t know yet.
BLANCHE：（frightened）You—haven’t told him？
STELLA：He’s on the road a good deal.
BLANCHE：Oh.Travels？
STELLA：Yes.
BLANCHE：Good.I mean—isn’t it？
STELLA：（half to herself）I can hardly stand it when he is away for a night...
BLANCHE：Why，Stella！
STELLA：When he’s away for a week I nearly go wild！
BLANCHE：Gracious！
STELLA：And when he comes back I cry on his lap like a baby...（She smiles to herself.）
BLANCHE：I guess that is what is meant by being in love...（Stella looks up with a radiant smile.）Stella—
STELLA：What？
BLANCHE：（in an uneasy rush）I haven’t asked you the things you probably thought I was going to ask.And so I’ll expect you to be understanding about what I have to tell you.
STELLA：What，Blanche？（Her face turns anxious.）
BLANCHE：Well，Stella—you’re going to reproach⑩me，I know that you’re bound to reproach me—but before you do—take into consideration—you left！I stayed and struggled！You came to New Orleans and looked out for yourself.I stayed at Belle Reve and tried to hold it together！I’m not meaning this in any reproachful way，but all the burden descended on my shoulders.
STELLA：The best I could do was make my own living，Blanche.（Blanche begins to shake again with intensity.）
BLANCHE：I know，I know.But you are the one that abandoned Belle Reve，not I！I stayed and fought for it，bled for it，almost died for it！
STELLA：Stop this hysterical outburst and tell me what’s happened？What do you mean fought and bled？What kind of—
BLANCHE：I knew you would，Stella.I knew you would take this attitude about it！
STELLA：About—what？—please！
BLANCHE：（slowly）The loss—the loss...
STELLA：Belle Reve？Lost，is it？No！
BLANCHE：Yes.Stella.
（They stare at each other across the yellow－checked linoleum
of the table.Blanche slowly nods her head and Stella looks slowly down at her hands folded on the table.The music of the“blue piano”grows louder.Blanche touches her handkerchief to her forehead.）
STELLA：But how did it go？What happened？
BLANCHE：（springing up）You’re a fine one to ask me how it went！
STELLA：Blanche！
BLANCHE：You’re a fine one to sit there accusing me of it！
STELLA：Blanche！
BLANCHE：I，I，I took the blows in my face and my body！All of those deaths！The long parade to the graveyard！Father，mother！Margaret，that dreadful way！So big with it，it couldn’t be put in a coffin！But had to be burned like rubbish！You just came home in time for the funerals，Stella.And funerals are pretty compared to deaths.Funerals are quiet，but deaths—not always.Sometimes their breathing is hoarse，and sometimes it rattles，and sometimes they even cry out to you，“Don’t let me go！”Even the old，sometimes，say，“Don’t let me go.”As if you were able to stop them！But funerals are quiet，with pretty flowers.And，oh，what gorgeous boxes they pack them away in！Unless you were there at the bed when they cried out，“Hold me！”you’d never suspect there was the struggle for breath and bleeding.You didn’t dream，but I saw！Saw！Saw！And now you sit there telling me with your eyes that I let the place go！How in hell do you think all that sickness and dying was paid for？Death is expensive，Miss Stella！And old Cousin Jessie’s right after Margaret’s，hers！Why，the Grim Reaper had put up his tent on our doorstep！...Stella.Belle Reve was his headquarters！Honey—that’s how it slipped through my fingers！Which of them left us a fortune？Which of them left a cent of insurance even？Only poor Jessie—one hundred to pay for her coffin.That was all，Stella！And I with my pitiful salary at the school.Yes，accuse me！Sit there and stare at me，thinking I let the place go！I let the place go？Where were you！In bed with your—Polack！
STELLA：（springing）Blanche！You be still！That’s enough！（She starts out.）
BLANCHE：Where are you going？
STELLA：I’m going into the bathroom to wash my face.
BLANCHE：Oh，Stella，Stella，you’re crying！
STELLA：Does that surprise you？
BLANCHE：Forgive me—I didn’t mean to—
（The sound of men’s voices is heard.Stella goes into the bathroom，closing the door behind her.When the men appear，and Blanche realizes it must be Stanley returning，she moves uncertainly from the bathroom door to the dressing table，looking apprehensively toward the front door.Stanley enters，followed by Steve and Mitch.Stanley pauses near his door，Steve by the foot of the spiral stair，and Mitch is slightly above and to the right of them，about to go out.As the men enter，we hear some of the following dialogue.）
STANLEY：Is that how he got it？
STEVE：Sure that’s how he got it.He hit the old weather－bird for 300bucks on a sixnumber－ticket.
MITCH：Don’t tell him those things；he’ll believe it.
（Mitch starts out.）
STANLEY：（restraining Mitch）Hey，Mitch—come back here.
（Blanche，at the sound of voices，retires in the bedroom.She picks up Stanley’s photo from dressing table，looks at it，puts it down.When Stanley enters the apartment，she darts and hides behind the screen at the head of bed.）
STEVE：（to Stanley and Mitch）Hey，are we playin’poker tomorrow？
STANLEY：Sure—at Mitch’s.
MITCH：（hearing this，returns quickly to the stair rail）No—not at my place.My mother’s still sick！
STANLEY：Okay，at my place...（Mitch starts out again.）But you bring the beer！
（Mitch pretends not to hear—calls out“Good night，all，”and goes out，singing.Eunice’s voice is heard，above.）Break it up down there！I made the spaghetti dish and ate it myself.
STEVE：（going upstairs）I told you and phoned you we was playing.（to the men）Jax beer！
EUNICE：You never phoned me once.
STEVE：I told you at breakfast—and phoned you at lunch...
EUNICE：Well，never mind about that.You just get yourself home here once in a while.STEVE：You want it in the papers？
（More laughter and shouts of parting come from the men.Stanley throws the screen door of the kitchen open and comes in.He is of medium height，about five feet eight or nine，and strongly，compactly built.Animal joy in his being is implicit in all his movements and attitudes.Since earliest manhood the center of his life has been pleasure with women，the giving and taking of it，not with weak indulgence，dependently，but with the power and pride of a richly feathered male bird among hens.Branching out from this complete and satisfying center are all the auxiliary channels of his life，such as his heartiness with men，his appreciation of rough humor，his love of good drink and food and games，his car，his radio，everything that is his，that bears his emblem of the gaudy seed－bearer.He sizes women up at a glance，with sexual classifications，crude images flashing into his mind and determining the way he smiles at them.）
BLANCHE：（drawing involuntarily back from his stare）You must be Stanley.I’m Blanche.
STANLEY：Stella’s sister？
BLANCHE：Yes.
STANLEY：H’lo.Where’s the little woman？
BLANCHE：In the bathroom.
STANLEY：Oh.Didn’t know you were coming in town.BLANCHE：I—uh—
STANLEY：Where you from，Blanche？BLANCHE：Why，I—live in Laurel.
（He has crossed to the closet and removed the whiskey bottle.）
STANLEY：In Laurel，huh？Oh，yeah.Yeah，in Laurel，that’s right.Not in my territory.Liquor goes fast in hot weather.（He holds the bottle to the light to observe its depletion.）Have a shot？
BLANCHE：No，I—rarely touch it.
STANLEY：Some people rarely touch it，but it touches them often.
BLANCHE：（faintly）Ha－ha.
STANLEY：My clothes’re stickin’to me.Do you mind if I make myself comfortable？（He starts to remove his shirt.）
BLANCHE：Please，please do.
STANLEY：Be comfortable is my motto.
BLANCHE：It’s mine，too.It’s hard to stay looking fresh.I haven’t washed or even powdered my face and—here you are！
STANLEY：You know you can catch cold sitting around in damp things，especially when you been exercising hard like bowling is.You’re a teacher，aren’t you？
BLANCHE：Yes.
STANLEY：What do you teach，Blanche？
BLANCHE：English.
STANLEY：I never was a very good English student.How long you here for，Blanche？
BLANCHE：I—don’t know yet.
STANLEY：You going to shack up here？
BLANCHE：I thought I would if it’s not inconvenient for you all.
STANLEY：Good.
BLANCHE：Traveling wears me out.
STANLEY：Well，take it easy.
（A cat screeches near the window.Blanche springs up.）
BLANCHE：What’s that？
STANLEY：Cats...Hey，Stella！
STELLA：（faintly，from the bathroom）Yes，Stanley.
STANLEY：Haven’t fallen in，have you？（He grins at Blanche.She tries unsuccessfully to smile back.There is a silence.）I’m afraid I’ll strike you as being the unrefined type.Stella’s spoke of you a good deal.You were married once，weren’t you？（The music of the polka rises up，faint in the distance.）
BLANCHE：Yes.When I was quite young.
STANLEY：What happened？
BLANCHE：The boy—the boy died.（She sinks back down.）I’m afraid I’m—going to be sick！
（Her head falls on her arms.）
【注释】
①Elysian Fields：In Greek mythology，the afterworld，similar in concept to heaven.In Chinese，it means“极乐世界”.
②attenuate：to weaken or reduce in force or intensity.
③redolence：having a suggestive or reminiscent odor.
④spasmodic：occurring or done at irregular intervals（usually for short periods at a time）；not continuous.
⑤hypocritical：pretending to have virtues，morals or principles that one does not actually possess.
⑥Edgar Allan Poe：an American poet，short－story writer，editor and literary critic，and is considered part of the American Romantic Movement.
⑦highbrow：（often derog）the person who has or is thought to have superior intellectual and cultural tastes.
⑧Polack：aperson of Polish descent.
⑨heterogeneous：consisting of dissimilar parts.
⑩reproach：blame，censure，disgrace.
linoleum：type of tough floor－covering made of canvas coated with powdered cork and linseed oil，etc.
【讨论题】
1.What does Williams’s depiction of Blanche and Stanley’s lives say about desire？
2.The plot of A Streetcar Named Desire is driven by the duel personalities of Blanche and Stanley.What are the sources of their animosity toward one another？
3.A Streetcar Named Desire can be described as an elegy，or poetic expression of mourning，for an Old South that died in the first part of the twentieth century.Expand on this description.
4.Describe the use of light in the play.What does its presence or absence indicate？
5.Compare Blanche and Stella.
8.Death of a Salesman
Arthur Miller
【简介与赏析】
阿瑟·米勒（Arthur Miller，1915—2005），美国20世纪三大剧作家之一。生于纽约犹太富商之家，大萧条时期家道中落，遂半工半读，自力完成学业。大学期间开始戏剧创作，作剧四部，两度获奖，毕业后历任多职，终不弃文志。1944年《鸿运高照的人》问世并获奖，四年后在百老汇上演，剧名初起。1949年，《推销员之死》轰动剧坛，获得纽约剧评家奖和普利策奖，乃享誉全球。后一再受到众议院“非美活动调查委员会”的传讯，坚定不屈，乃至获罪，然终不违故志，并作历史剧《炼狱》讽刺麦卡锡主义。后笔耕不辍，至耄耋之龄，共创作舞台剧、广播剧几十余部，以及其他短篇小说、报告文学等，皆针砭时弊、直言不讳，被誉为20世纪良心的代表。1978年，米勒夫妇访华，受到中国剧作家曹禺接待，后出版了一本摄影集反映中国人民当时的生活。
自尤金·奥尼尔于1953年逝世后，阿瑟·米勒与田纳西·威廉斯和爱德华·阿尔比一起引领美国剧坛。米勒是一位易卜生式的社会剧作家，其作品探讨人生意义，着重理智，关怀整个人性。2005年，米勒因心脏衰竭逝世。百老汇称“我们损失了一位巨人”。而剧作家爱德华·阿尔比则评价说：“阿瑟的戏剧是我们所必需的。”
《推销员之死》
《推销员之死》是米勒的代表作，讲述了一个梦想破灭的故事。威利·洛曼是个旅行推销员，一生失意，老来潦倒不堪，只希望儿子能出人头地。但大儿子比夫年过三十，连一份正式工作也没有，二儿子哈比只会寻花问柳，也是个废物。两个儿子在母亲激励下终于鼓起勇气想干一番事业，于是跟父亲约定晚上在小酒馆会面，共商振兴大计。而当天上午老威利竟被少东家辞了，晚上来到酒馆，两兄弟却在喝闷酒，原来比夫向老同学借钱碰钉子，拟订的发财计划化为泡影。威利大失所望，气得神志昏迷，比夫和哈比趁机挽着女友溜了。威利对自己、对儿子、对整个生活不再抱任何希望，出门故意撞车而死。
本剧是一出典型的现代悲剧，揭露了“美国梦的疵点”，被誉为“美国梦不再”的代表作。它奠定了米勒戏剧大师的地位，并获“普利策戏剧奖”、“纽约戏剧评论奖”和美国舞台艺术成就最高奖项“托尼戏剧音乐奖”三项大奖。1999年，此剧再获托尼奖中的“最佳戏剧重演奖”。米勒在83岁高龄时捧下了“终身成就奖”。本剧运用了意识流的叙事手法，大量倒叙、幻觉等手法穿插其间，再加上剧院别出心裁的场景设置和灯光及音响效果，让观众不受时间、空间的限制，感觉像丧失了时空的掌控感似的而处于持续不安之中，从而增强了剧作的悲剧效果。
【剧本选读】
Characters
Willy Loman：the salesman who is past his prime，and who was never an exceptional businessman in his prime
Linda Loman：Willy’s wife who loves him despite all of his difficulties
Biff Loman：Willy’s eldest son for whom he had dreams of greatness
Happy Loman：Willy’s younger son
Charley：Willy’s neighbor
Bernard：Charley’s son
Ben：Willy’s brother who left home very early and became tremendously wealthy；appears only in Willy’s daydreams
Howard Wagner：son of former owner of the Wagner Company；he now runs the firm and is responsible for putting Willy on straight commission
The Woman：Willy’s mistress from Boston
ACTⅠ
A melody is heard，played upon a flute.It is small and fine，telling of grass and trees and the horizon.The curtain rises.
Before us is the Salesman’s house.We are aware of towering，angular shapes behind it，surrounding it on all sides.Only the blue light of the sky falls upon the house and forestage；the surrounding area shows an angry①glow of orange.As more light appears，we see a solid vault of apartment houses around the small，fragile－seeming home.An air of the dream clings to the place，a dream rising out of reality.The kitchen at center seems actual enough，for there is a kitchen table with three chairs，and a refrigerator.But no other fixtures are seen.At the back of the kitchen there is a draped entrance，which leads to the living room.To the right of the kitchen，on a level raised two feet，is a bedroom furnished only with a brass bedstead and a straight chair.On a shelf over the bed a silver athletic trophy stands.A window opens onto the apartment house at the side.
Behind the kitchen，on a level raised six and a half feet，is the boys’bedroom，at present barely visible.Two beds are dimly seen，and at the back of the room a dormer window②.（This bedroom is above the unseen living room.）At the left a stairway curves up to it from the kitchen.
The entire setting is wholly or，in some places，partially transparent.The roof－line of the house is one－dimensional；under and over it we see the apartment buildings.Before the house lies an apron③，curving beyond the forestage into the orchestra④.This forward area serves as the back yard as well as the locale of all Willy’s imaginings and of his city scenes.Whenever the action is in the present the actors observe the imaginary wall－lines，entering the house only through its door at the left.But in the scenes of the past these boundaries are broken，and characters enter or leave a room by stepping“through”a wall onto the forestage.
（From the right，Willy Loman，the Salesman，enters，carrying two large sample cases.The flute plays on.He hears but is not aware of it.He is past sixty years of age，dressed quietly⑤.Even as he crosses the stage to the doorway of the house，his exhaustion is apparent.He unlocks the door，comes into the kitchen，and thankfully lets his burden down，feeling the soreness of his palms.A word－sigh escapes his lips—it might be“Oh，boy，oh，boy.”He closes the door，then carries his cases out into the living room，through the draped kitchen doorway.Linda，his wife，has stirred in her bed at the right.She gets out and puts on a robe，listening.Most often jovial，she has developed an iron repression of her exceptions⑥to Willy’s behavior—she more than loves him，she admires him，as though his mercurial nature，his temper，his massive dreams and little cruelties，served her only as sharp reminders of the turbulent longings within him，longings which she shares but lacks the temperament to utter and follow to their end.）
LINDA：（hearing Willy outside the bedroom，calls with some trepidation）Willy！
WILLY：It’s all right.I came back.
LINDA：Why？What happened？（Slight pause.）Did something happen，Willy？
WILLY：No，nothing happened.
LINDA：You didn’t smash the car，did you？
WILLY：（with casual irritation）I said nothing happened.Didn’t you hear me？
LINDA：Don’t you feel well？
WILLY：I’m tired to the death.（The flute has faded away.He sits on the bed beside her，a little numb.）I couldn’t make it.I just couldn’t make it，Linda.
LINDA：（very carefully，delicately）Where were you all day？You look terrible.
WILLY：I got as far as a little above Yonkers.I stopped for a cup of coffee.Maybe it was the coffee.
LINDA：What？
WILLY：（after a pause）I suddenly couldn’t drive any more.The car kept going off onto the shoulder⑦，y’know⑧？
LINDA：（helpfully）Oh.Maybe it was the steering again.I don’t think Angelo⑨knows the Studebaker⑩.
WILLY：No，it’s me，it’s me.Suddenly I realize I’m goin’sixty miles an hour and I don’t remember the last five minutes.I’m—I can’t seem to—keep my mind to it.
LINDA：Maybe it’s your glasses.You never went for your new glasses.
WILLY：No，I see everything.I came back ten miles an hour.It took me nearly four hours from Yonkers.
LINDA：（resigned）Well，you’ll just have to take a rest，Willy，you can’t continue this way.
WILLY：I just got back from Florida.
LINDA：But you didn’t rest your mind.Your mind is overactive，and the mind is what counts，dear.
WILLY：I’ll start out in the morning.Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning.（She is taking off his shoes.）These goddam arch supports are killing me.
LINDA：Take an aspirin.Should I get you an aspirin？It’ll soothe you.
WILLY：（with wonder）I was driving along，you understand？And I was fine.I was even observing the scenery.You can imagine，me looking at scenery，on the road every week of my life.But it’s so beautiful up there，Linda，the trees are so thick，and the sun is warm.I opened the windshield and just let the warm air bathe over me.And then all of a sudden I’m goin’off the road！I’m tellin’ya，I absolutely forgot I was driving.If I’d’ve gone the other way over the white line I might’ve killed somebody.So I went on again—and five minutes later I’m dreamin’again，and I nearly—（He presses two fingers against his eyes.）I have such thoughts，I have such strange thoughts.
LINDA：Willy，dear.Talk to them again.There’s no reason why you can’t work in New York.
WILLY：They don’t need me in New York.I’m the New England man.I’m vital in New England.
LINDA：But you’re sixty years old.They can’t expect you to kee travelling every week.
WILLY：I’ll have to send a wire to Portland.I’m supposed to see Brown and Morrison tomorrow morning at ten o’clock to show the line
.Goddammit，I could sell them！（He starts putting on his jacket.）
LINDA：（taking the jacket from him）Why don’t you go down to the place tomorrow and tell Howard you’ve simply got to work in New York？You’re too accommodating，dear.
WILLY：If old man Wagner
was alive I’d a been in charge of New York now！That man was aprince，he was a masterful man.But that boy of his，that Howard，he don’t appreciate.When I went north the first time，the Wagner Company didn’t know where New England was！
LINDA：Why don’t you tell those things to Howard，dear？
WILLY：（encouraged）I will，I definitely will.Is there any cheese？
LINDA：I’ll make you a sandwich.
WILLY：No，go to sleep.I’ll take some milk.I’ll be up right away.The boys in？
LINDA：They’re sleeping.Happy took Biff on a date tonight.
WILLY：（interested）That so？
LINDA：It was so nice to see them shaving together，one behind the other，in the bathroom.And going out together.You notice？The whole house smells of shaving lotion.
WILLY：Figure it out.Work a lifetime to pay off a house.You finally own it，and there’s nobody to live in it.
LINDA：Well，dear，life is a casting off.It’s always that way.
WILLY：No，no，some people—some people accomplish something.Did Biff say anything after I went this morning？
LINDA：You shouldn’t have criticized him，Willy，especially after he just got off the train.You mustn’t lose your temper with him.
WILLY：When the hell did I lose my temper？I simply asked him if he was making any money.Is that a criticism？
LINDA：But，dear，how could he make any money？
WILLY：（worried and angered）There’s such an undercurrent in him.He became a moody man.Did he apologize when I left this morning？
LINDA：He was crestfallen，Willy.You know how he admires you.I think if he finds himself
，then you’ll both be happier and not fight any more.
WILLY：How can he find himself on a farm？Is that a life？A farmhand？In the beginning，when he was young，I thought，well，ayoung man，it’s good for him to tramp around，take a lot of different jobs.But it’s more than ten years now and he has yet to make thirty－five dollars a week！
LINDA：He’s finding himself，Willy.
WILLY：Not finding yourself at the age of thirty－four is a disgrace！
LINDA：Shh！
WILLY：The trouble is he’s lazy，goddammit！
LINDA：Willy，please！
WILLY：Biff is a lazy bum！
LINDA：They’re sleeping.Get something to eat.Go on down.
WILLY：Why did he come home？I would like to know what brought him home.
LINDA：I don’t know.I think he’s still lost，Willy.I think he’s very lost
.
WILLY：Biff Loman is lost.In the greatest country in the world a young man with such personal attractiveness，gets lost.And such a hard worker.There’s one thing about Biff—he’s not lazy.
LINDA：Never.
WILLY：（with pity and resolve）I’ll see him in the morning；I’ll have a nice talk with him.I’ll get him a job selling.He could be big
in no time.My God！Remember how they used to follow him around in high school？When he smiled at one of them their faces lit up.When he walked down the street...（He loses himself in reminiscences.）
LINDA：（trying to bring him out of it）Willy，dear，I got a new kind of American－type cheese today.It’s whipped.
WILLY：Why do you get American when I like Swiss？
LINDA：I just thought you’d like a change—
WILLY：I don’t want a change！I want Swiss cheese.Why am I always being contradicted？
LINDA：（with a covering laugh）I thought it would be a surprise.
WILLY：Why don’t you open a window in here，for God’s sake？
LINDA：（with infinite patience）They’re all open，dear.
WILLY：The way they boxed us in here.Bricks and windows，windows and bricks.
LINDA：We should’ve bought the land next door.
WILLY：The street is lined with cars.There’s not a breath of fresh air in the neighborhood.The grass don’t grow any more，you can’t raise a carrot in the backyard.They should’ve had a law against apartment houses.Remember those two beautiful elm trees out there？When I and Biff hung the swing between them？
LINDA：Yeah，like being a million miles from the city.
WILLY：They should’ve arrested the builder for cutting those down.They massacred the neighborhood.（Lost.）More and more I think of those days，Linda.This time of year it was lilac and wisteria.And then the peonies would come out，and the daffodils.What fragrance in this room！
LINDA：Well，after all，people had to move somewhere.
WILLY：No，there’s more people now.
LINDA：I don’t think there’s more people.I think—
WILLY：There’s more people！That’s what’s ruining this country！Population is getting out of control.The competition is maddening！Smell the stink from that apartment house！And another one on the other side...How can they whip cheese？（On Willy’s last line，Biff and Happy raise themselves up in their beds，listening.）
LINDA：Go down，try it.And be quiet.
WILLY：（turning to Linda，guiltily）You’re not worried about me，are you，sweetheart？
BIFF：What’s the matter？
HAPPY：Listen！
LINDA：You’ve got too much on the ball
to worry about.
WILLY：You’re my foundation and my support，Linda.
LINDA：Just try to relax，dear.You make mountains out of molehills.
WILLY：I won’t fight with him any more.If he wants to go back to Texas，let him go.
LINDA：He’ll find his way.
WILLY：Sure.Certain men just don’t get started till later in life.Like Thomas Edison，I think.Or B.F.Goodrich.One of them was deaf.（He starts for the bedroom doorway.）I’ll put my money on Biff.
LINDA：And Willy—if it’s warm Sunday we’ll drive in the country.And we’ll open the windshield，and take lunch.
WILLY：No，the windshields don’t open on the new cars.
LINDA：But you opened it today.
WILLY：Me？I didn’t.（He stops.）Now isn’t that peculiar！Isn’t that a remarkable—（He breaks off in amazement and fright as the flute is heard distantly.）
LINDA：What，darling？
WILLY：That is the most remarkable thing.
LINDA：What，dear？
WILLY：I was thinking of the Chevvy
.（Slight pause.）Nineteen twenty－eight...when I had that red Chevvy—（Breaks off.）That funny？I coulda sworn I was driving that Chevvy today.
LINDA：Well，that’s nothing.Something must’ve reminded you.
WILLY：Remarkable.Ts.Remember those days？The way Biff used to simonize that car？The dealer refused to believe there was eighty thousand miles on it.（He shakes his head.）Heh！（To Linda.）Close your eyes，I’ll be right up.（He walks out of the bedroom.）
HAPPY：（to Biff）Jesus，maybe he smashed up the car again！
LINDA：（calling after Willy）Be careful on the stairs，dear！The cheese is on the middle shelf！（She turns，goes over to the bed，takes his jacket，and goes out of the bedroom.）（Light has risen on the boys’room.Unseen，Willy is heard talking to himself，“eighty thousand miles，”and a little laugh.Biff gets out of bed，comes downstage a bit，and stands attentively.Biff is two years older than his brother Happy，well built，but in these days bears a worn air and seems less self－assured.He has succeeded less，and his dreams are stronger and less acceptable than Happy’s.Happy is tall，powerfully made.Sexuality is like a visible color on him，or a scent that many women have discovered.He，like his brother，is lost，but in a different way，for he has never allowed himself to turn his face toward defeat and is thus more confused and hardskinned，although seemingly more content.）
HAPPY：（getting out of bed）He’s going to get his license taken away if he keeps that up.I’m getting nervous about him，y’know，Biff？
BIFF：His eyes are going.
HAPPY：I’ve driven with him.He sees all right.He just doesn’t keep his mind on it.I drove into the city with him last week.He stops at a green light and then it turns red and he goes.（He laughs.）
BIFF：Maybe he’s color－blind.
HAPPY：Pop？Why，he’s got the finest eye for color in the business.You know that.
BIFF：（sitting down on his bed）I’m going to sleep.
HAPPY：You’re not still sour on Dad，are you，Biff？
BIFF：He’s all right，I guess.
WILLY：（underneath them，in the living room）Yes，sir，eighty thousand miles—eighty－two thousand！
BIFF：You smoking？
HAPPY：（holding out a pack of cigarettes）Want one？
BIFF：（taking a cigarette）I can never sleep when I smell it.
WILLY：What a simonizing job，heh？
HAPPY：（with deep sentiment）Funny，Biff，y’know？Us sleeping inhere again？The old beds.（He pats his bed affectionately.）All the talk that went across those two beds，huh？Our whole lives.
BIFF：Yeah.Lotta dreams and plans.
HAPPY：（with a deep and masculine laugh）About five hundred women would like to know what was said in this room.（They share a soft laugh.）
BIFF：Remember that big Betsy something—what the hell was her name—over on Bushwick Avenue？
HAPPY：（combing his hair）With the collie dog！
BIFF：That’s the one.I got you in there，remember？
HAPPY：Yeah，that was my first time—I think.Boy，there was a pig！（They laugh，almost crudely.）You taught me everything I know about women.Don’t forget that.
BIFF：I bet you forgot how bashful you used to be.Especially with girls.
HAPPY：Oh，I still am，Biff.
BIFF：Oh，go on.
HAPPY：I just control it，that’s all.I think I got less bashful and you got more so.What happened，Biff？Where’s the old humor，the old confidence？（He shakes Biffs knee.Biff gets up and moves restlessly about the room.）What’s the matter？
BIFF：Why does Dad mock me all the time？
HAPPY：He’s not mocking you，he—
BIFF：Everything I say there’s a twist of mockery on his face.I can’t get near him.
HAPPY：He just wants you to make good，that’s all.I wanted to talk to you about Dad for a long time，Biff.Something’s—happening to him.He talks to himself.
BIFF：I noticed that this morning.But he always mumbled.
HAPPY：But not so noticeable.It got so embarrassing I sent him to Florida.And you know something？Most of the time he’s talking to you.
BIFF：What’s he say about me？
HAPPY：I can’t make it out.
BIFF：What’s he say about me？
HAPPY：I think the fact that you’re not settled，that you’re still kind of up in the air...
BIFF：There’s one or two other things depressing him，Happy.
HAPPY：What do you mean？
BIFF：Never mind.Just don’t lay it all to me.
HAPPY：But I think if you just got started—I mean—is there any future for you out there？
BIFF：I tell ya，Hap，I don’t know what the future is.I don’t know—what I’m supposed to want.
HAPPY：What do you mean？
BIFF：Well，I spent six or seven years after high school trying to work myself up.Shipping clerk，salesman，business of one kind or another.And it’s a measly manner of existence.To get on that subway on the hot mornings in summer.To devote your whole life to keeping stock，or making phone calls，or selling or buying.To suffer fifty weeks of the year for the sake of a two－week vacation，when all you really desire is to be outdoors，with your shirt off.And always to have to get ahead of the next fella.And still—that’s how you build a future.
HAPPY：Well，you really enjoy it on a farm？Are you content out there？
BIFF：（with rising agitation）Hap，I’ve had twenty or thirty different kinds of jobs since I left home before the war，and it always turns out the same.I just realized it lately.In Nebraska when I herded cattle，and the Dakotas，and Arizona，and now in Texas.It’s why I came home now，I guess，because I realized it.This farm I work on，it’s spring there now，see？And they’ve got about fifteen new colts.There’s nothing more inspiring or—beautiful than the sight of a mare and a new colt.And it’s cool there now，see？Texas is cool now，and it’s spring.And whenever spring comes to where I am，I suddenly get the feeling，my God，I’m not gettin’anywhere！What the hell am I doing，playing around with horses，twenty－eight dollars a week！I’m thirty－four years old，I oughta be makin’my future.That’s when I come running home.And now，I get here，and I don’t know what to do with myself.（After a pause.）I’ve always made a point of not wasting my life，and everytime I come back here I know that all I’ve done is to waste my life.
HAPPY：You’re a poet，you know that，Biff？You’re a—you’re an idealist！
BIFF：No，I’m mixed up very bad.Maybe I oughta get married.Maybe I oughta get stuck into something.Maybe that’s my trouble.I’m like a boy.I’m not married，I’m not in business，I just—I’m like a boy.Are you content，Hap？You’re a success，aren’t you？Are you content？
HAPPY：Hell，no！
BIFF：Why？You’re making money，aren’t you？
HAPPY：（moving about with energy，expressiveness）All I can do now is wait for the merchandise manager to die.And suppose I get to be merchandise manager？He’s a good friend of mine，and he just built a terrific estate on Long Island.And he lived there about two months and sold it，and now he’s building another one.He can’t enjoy it once it’s finished.And I know that’s just what I would do.I don’t know what the hell I’m workin’for.Sometimes I sit in my apartment—all alone.And I think of the rent I’m paying.And it’s crazy.But then，it’s what I always wanted.My own apartment，a car，and plenty of women.And still，goddammit，I’m lonely.
BIFF：（with enthusiasm）Listen，why don’t you come out West with me？
HAPPY：You and I，heh？
BIFF：Sure，maybe we could buy a ranch.Raise cattle，use our muscles.Men built like we are should be working out in the open.
HAPPY：（avidly）The Loman Brothers，heh？
BIFF：（with vast affection）Sure，we’d be known all over the counties！
HAPPY：（enthralled）That’s what I dream about，Biff.Sometimes I want to just rip my clothes off in the middle of the store and outbox that goddam merchandise manager.I mean I can outbox，outrun，and outlift anybody in that store，and I have to take orders from those common，petty sons－of－bitches till I can’t stand it any more.
BIFF：I’m tellin’you，kid，if you were with me I’d be happy out there.
HAPPY：（enthused）See，Biff，everybody around me is so false that I’m constantly lowering my ideals...
BIFF：Baby，together we’d stand up for one another，we’d have someone to trust.
HAPPY：If I were around you—
BIFF：Hap，the trouble is we weren’t brought up to grub for money.I don’t know how to do it.
HAPPY：Neither can I！
BIFF：Then let’s go！
HAPPY：The only thing is—what can you make out there？
BIFF：But look at your friend.Builds an estate and then hasn’t the peace of mind to live in it.
HAPPY：Yeah，but when he walks into the store the waves part in front of him.That’s fiftytwo thousand dollars a year coming through the revolving door，and I got more in my pinky finger than he’s got in his head.
BIFF：Yeah，but you just said—
HAPPY：I gotta show some of those pompous，self－important executives over there that Hap Loman can make the grade.I want to walk into the store the way he walks in.Then I’ll go with you，Biff.We’ll be together yet，I swear.But take those two we had tonight.Now weren’t they gorgeous creatures？
BIFF：Yeah，yeah，most gorgeous I’ve had in years.
HAPPY：I get that any time I want，Biff.Whenever I feel disgusted.The only trouble is，it gets like bowling or something.I just keep knockin’them over and it doesn’t mean anything.You still run around a lot？
BIFF：Naa.I’d like to find a girl—steady，somebody with substance.
HAPPY：That’s what I long for.
BIFF：Go on！You’d never come home.
HAPPY：I would！Somebody with character，with resistance！Like Mom，y’know？You’re gonna call me a bastard when I tell you this.That girl Charlotte I was with tonight is engaged to be married in five weeks.（He tries on his new hat.）
BIFF：No kiddin’！
HAPPY：Sure，the guy’s in line for the vice－presidency of the store.I don’t know what gets into me，maybe I just have an over－developed sense of competition or something，but I went and ruined her，and furthermore I can’t get rid of her.And he’s the third executive I’ve done that to.Isn’t that a crummy characteristic？And to top it all，I go to their weddings！（Indignantly，but laughing.）Like I’m not supposed to take bribes.Manufacturers offer me a hundred－dollar bill now and then to throw an order their way.You know how honest I am，but it’s like this girl，see.I hate myself for it.Because I don’t want the girl，and still，I take it and—I love it！
BIFF：Let’s go to sleep.
HAPPY：I guess we didn’t settle anything，heh？
BIFF：I just got one idea that I think I’m going to try.
HAPPY：What’s that？
BIFF：Remember Bill Oliver？
HAPPY：Sure，Oliver is very big now.You want to work for him again？
BIFF：No，but when I quit he said something to me.He put his arm on my shoulder，and he said，“Biff，if you ever need anything，come to me.”
HAPPY：I remember that.That sounds good.
BIFF：I think I’ll go to see him.If I could get ten thousand or even seven or eight thousand dollars I could buy a beautiful ranch.
HAPPY：I bet he’d back you.’Cause he thought highly of you，Biff.I mean，they all do.You’re well liked，Biff.That’s why I say to come back here，and we both have the apartment.And I’m tellin’you，Biff，any babe you want...
BIFF：No，with a ranch I could do the work I like and still be something.I just wonder though.I wonder if Oliver still thinks I stole that carton of basketballs.
HAPPY：Oh，he probably forgot that long ago.It’s almost ten years.You’re too sensitive.Anyway，he didn’t really fire you.
BIFF：Well，I think he was going to.I think that’s why I quit.I was never sure whether he knew or not.I know he thought the world of me，though.I was the only one he’d let lock up the place.
WILLY：（below）You gonna wash the engine，Biff？
HAPPY：Shh！
（Biff looks at Happy，who is gazing down，listening.Willy is mumbling in the parlor.）
HAPPY：You hear that？（They listen.Willy laughs warmly.）
BIFF：（growing angry）Doesn’t he know Mom can hear that？
WILLY：Don’t get your sweater dirty，Biff！（A look of pain crosses Biff’s face.）
HAPPY：Isn’t that terrible？Don’t leave again，will you？You’ll find a job here.You gotta stick around.I don’t know what to do about him，it’s getting embarrassing.
WILLY：What a simonizing job！
BIFF：Mom’s hearing that！
WILLY：No kiddin’，Biff，you got a date？Wonderful！
HAPPY：Go on to sleep.But talk to him in the morning，will you？
BIFF：（reluctantly getting into bed）With her in the house.Brother！
HAPPY：（getting into bed）I wish you’d have a good talk with him.（The light of their room begins to fade.）
BIFF：（to himself in bed）That selfish，stupid...
HAPPY：Sh...Sleep，Biff.
（Their light is out.Well before they have finished speaking，Willy’s form is dimly seen below in the darkened kitchen.He opens the refrigerator，searches in there，and takes out a bottle of milk.The apartment houses are fading out，and the entire house and surroundings become covered with leaves.Music insinuates itself as the leaves appear.）
WILLY：Just wanna be careful with those girls，Biff，that’s all.Don’t make any promises.No promises of any kind.Because a girl，y’know，they always believe what you tell’em，and you’re very young，Biff，you’re too young to be talking seriously to girls.（Light rises on the kitchen.Willy，talking，shuts the refrigerator door and comes downstage to the kitchen table.He pours milk into a glass.He is totally immersed in himself，smiling faintly.）
WILLY：Too young entirely，Biff.You want to watch your schooling first.Then when you’re all set，there’ll be plenty of girls for a boy like you.（He smiles broadly at a kitchen chair.）That so？The girls pay for you？（He laughs.）Boy，you must really be makin’a hit.（Willy is gradually addressing—physically—apoint offstage，speaking through the wall of the kitchen，and his voice has been rising in volume to that of a normal conversation.）
WILLY：I been wondering why you polish the car so careful.Ha！Don’t leave the hubcaps，boys.Get the chamois to the hubcaps.Happy，use newspaper on the windows，it’s the easiest thing.Show him how to do it.Biff！You see，Happy？Pad it up，use it like a pad.That’s it，that’s it，good work.You’re doin’all right，Hap.（He pauses，then nods in approbation for a few seconds，then looks upward.）Biff，first thing we gotta do when we get time is clip that big branch over the house.Afraid it’s gonna fall in a storm and hit the roof.Tell you what.We get a rope and sling her around，and then we climb up there with a couple of saws and take her down.Soon as you finish the car，boys，I wanna see ya.I got a surprise for you，boys.
BIFF：（offstage）Whatta yagot，Dad？
WILLY：No，you finish first.Never leave a job till you’re finished—remember that.（Looking toward the“big trees”.）Biff，up in Albany I saw a beautiful hammock.I think I’ll buy it next trip，and we’ll hang it right between those two elms.Wouldn’t that be something？Just swingin’there under those branches.Boy，that would be...
【注释】
①angry：（of color）strong，sharp，blazing
②dormer window：scuttle，skylight
③apron：（in the theatre）part of the stage that extends into the auditorium in front of the curtain
④orchestra：（usually large）group of people playing various musical instruments together
⑤quietly：in a way that does not attract attention
⑥exceptions：dissatisfaction，discontentment
⑦shoulder：an area of ground beside a road where drivers can stop their cars if they are having trouble
⑧y’know：informal usage of“you know”for the purpose of imitating a vivid daily language
⑨Angelo：a mechanical repairman
⑩Studebaker：a car presently used by the protagonist
line：type of product
Wagner：Howard’s father，former boss of Howard Merchandising Company
if he finds himself：if he finds a suitable position for himself in the life
lost：confused or puzzled
big：prosperous，successful
on the ball：usually a fixed phrase，meaning alert，smart，here refers to“on the mind”
Chevvy：a car previously used by the protagonist
【讨论题】
1.How does Willy’s home function as a metaphor for his ambitions？
2.What evidence can we find to show that Willy may have chosen a profession that is at odds with his natural inclinations？
3.How is Willy’s retreat into the past a form of escape from his unpleasant present reality？How does it function as a way for Willy to cope with the failure to realize his ambitions？
4.How does Willy’s interview with Howard reveal that Willy transfers his professional anxieties onto his relationship with his family and conflates the professional and personal realms of his life？
9.Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf？
Edward Albee
【简介与赏析】
爱德华·阿尔比（Edward Albee，1928— ），美国著名剧作家，尤金·奥尼尔逝世后，与阿瑟·米勒、田纳西·威廉斯一起引领美国剧坛。生于华盛顿（一说生于弗吉尼亚），后为富商收养，养祖父拥有多家剧院，因而阿尔比从小接触剧坛名流，熏陶渐染，十二岁即开始创作诗歌、戏剧。后肄业于三一大学，迁居纽约格林尼治村，虽生活窘迫，终不弃文志。1958年创作《动物园的故事》，次年在柏林首演，后转演外百老汇，虽毁誉并兴，亦初露锋芒。1962年创作《谁害怕弗吉尼亚·伍尔夫？》轰动剧坛，获纽约剧评奖，剧名始定。后笔耕不辍，其他重要作品有《贝西·史密斯之死》（1960）、《沙箱》（1960）、《美国之梦》（1961），《小艾丽斯》（1960）、《微妙的权衡》（1968）等。三次获普利策戏剧奖，2005年获托尼终生成就奖。现任爱德华·富（兰克林）·阿尔比基金会主席，及休斯敦大学教授。
阿尔比被认为是荒诞派戏剧美国化的第一人。惯用象征、暗喻、夸大的手法描写美国社会生活，刻画牢骚满腹式人物，表现人之孤独痛苦，语言辛辣，发人深省。《动物园的故事》、《沙箱》和《美国之梦》之主题、手法，均现其荒诞派特点。
《谁害怕弗吉尼亚·伍尔夫？》
《谁害怕弗吉尼亚·伍尔夫？》被公认为是阿尔比的巅峰之作，也是当代美国戏剧的经典剧目。在百老汇连演664场，并赢得了包括纽约剧评奖和托尼奖在内的6项戏剧大奖。该剧共三幕，较之阿尔比的其他荒诞剧作，较为写实。主要描述了一次家庭拜访，主人乔治是新迦太基大学的历史学教授，妻子玛莎是校长的女儿。幕启时，他们进行着琐细、平淡、略带揶揄的对话。随后新到大学任教的尼克带着妻子哈妮到来。于是四个人在一起喝酒、聊天、跳舞，相互戏弄、挑逗……从凌晨两点一直到天亮。剧情就在这种拉拉杂杂戏谑愚弄中演了不间断的三幕。
本剧标题别有深意，明出于一句童谣“谁害怕大灰狼？”的诙谐改写（Woolf与wolf同音），又暗指英国女作家弗吉尼亚·伍尔夫，表明了剧中主人公的高级知识分子身份。伍尔夫就是因为精神错乱，无法忍受现实而自杀，故这一标题也暗合了该剧表现上层知识分子的苦恼和困扰的主题。故剧中虽没有明显的悲剧情节，实则是一出典型的现代美国悲剧。剧作家似乎刻意与现实保持距离，剧中没有传统意义上的故事，没有悬念，也没有戏剧冲突，情节推进完全依靠荒诞的“戏谑”，揭示了美国社会人们精神上的空虚、麻木与欺骗。另外，本剧自问世以来长演不衰，并被改编为影视作品。
【剧本选读】
Characters
George：a college history professor，forty－six years old and an acknowledged failure
Martha：George’s wife，fifty－two－year－old
Nick：ayoung genius who received his Master’s degree at twenty，thirty years old and blond
Honey：Nick’s twenty－six－year－old wife
ACTⅠ
NICK：Indeed？
GEORGE：No kids，hunh？
NICK：Not yet.
GEORGE：People do...uh...have kids.That’s what I meant about history.You people are going to make them in test tubes，aren’t you？You biologists.Babies.Then the rest of us...them as wants to...can screw to their heart’s content.What will happen to the tax deduction？Has anyone figured that out yet？（Nick，who can think of nothing better to do，laughs mildly.）But you are going to have kids...anyway.In spite of history.
NICK：（hedging）Yes...certainly.We...want to wait...a little...until we’re settled.
GEORGE：And this...（with a handsweep takingin not only the room，the house，but the whole countryside）...this is your heart’s content—Illyria...Penguin Island...Gomorrah①...You think you’re going to be happy here in New Carthage②，eh？
NICK：（a little defensively）I hope we’ll stay here.
GEORGE：And every definition has its boundaries，eh？Well，it isn’t a bad college，I guess.I mean.it’ll do.It isn’t M.I.T....it isn’t U.C.L.A....it isn’t the Sorbonne...or Moscow U.either，for that matter.
NICK：I don’t mean...forever.
GEORGE：Well，don’t you let that get bandied about.The old man wouldn’t like it.Martha’s father expects loyalty and devotion out of his...staff.I was going to use another word.Martha’s father expects his...staff...to cling to the walls of this place，like the ivy...to come here and grow old...to fall in the line of service.One man，a professor of Latin and Elocution，actually fell in the cafeteria line，one lunch.He was buried，as many of us have been，and as many more of us will be，under the shrubbery around the chapel.It is said...and I have no reason to doubt it...that we make excellent fertilizer.But the old man is not going to be buried under the shrubbery...the old man is not going to die.Martha’s father has the staying power of one of those Micronesian tortoises.There are rumors...which you must not breathe in front of Martha，for she foams at the mouth...that the old man，her father，is over two hundred years old.There is probably an irony involved in this，but I am not drunk enough to figure out what it is.How many kids you going to have？
NICK：I...I don’t know...My wife is...
GEORGE：Slim－hipped.（rises）Have a drink.
NICK：Yes.
GEORGE：MARTHA！（no answer）DAMN IT！（to NICK）You asked me if I knew women...Well，one of the things I do not know about them is what they talk about while the men are talking.（Vaguely）I must find out some time.
MARTHA’S VOICE：WHADD’YA WANT③？
GEORGE：（to NICK）Isn’t that a wonderful sound？What I mean is...what do you think they really talk about...or don’t you care？
NICK：Themselves，I would imagine.
MARTHA’S VOICE：GEORGE？
GEORGE：（to NICK）Do you find women...puzzling？
NICK：Well...yes and no.
GEORGE：（with a knowing nod）Unh－hunh.（Moves toward the hail，almost bumps into HONEY，re－entering）Oh！Well，here’s one of you，at least.
（HONEY：moves toward NICK.GEORGE goes to the hall.）
HONEY：（to GEORGE）She’ll be right down.（to NICK）You must see this house，dear...this is such a wonderful old house.
NICK：Yes，I...
GEORGE：MARTHA！
MARTHA’S VOICE：FOR CHRIST’S SAKE，HANG ON A MINUTE，WILL YOU？
HONEY：（to GEORGE）She’ll be right down...she’s changing.
GEORGE：（incredulous）She’s what？She’s changing？
HONEY：Yes.
CEORGE：Her clothes？
HONEY：Her dress.
GEORGE：（suspicious）Why？
HONEY：（with a nervous little laugh）Why，I imagine she wants to be...comfortable.
GEORGE：（with a threatening look toward the hall）Oh she does，does she？
HONEY：Well，heavens，I should think...
GEORGE：You don’t know！！
NICK：（as HONEY starts）You feel all right？
HONEY：（Reassuring，but with the echo of a whine.A long－practiced tone）Oh，yes，dear...perfectly fine.
GEORGE：（fuming...to himself）So she wants to be comfortable，does she？Well，we’ll see about that.
HONEY：（to GEORGE，brightly）I didn’t know until just a minute ago that you had a son.
GEORGE：（wheeling，as if struck from behind）WHAT？
HONEY：A son！I hadn’t known.
NICK：You to know and me to find out.Well，he must be quite a big...
HONEY：Twenty－one...twenty－one tomorrow...tomorrow’s his birthday.
NICK：（a victorious smile）Well！
GEORGE：（to HONEY）She told you about him？
HONEY：（flustered）Well，yes.Well，I mean.
GEORGE：（nailing it down）She told you about him.
HONEY：（a nervous giggle）Yes.
GEORGE：（strangely）You say she’s changing？
HONEY：Yes...
GEORGE：And she mentioned...？
HONEY：（cheerful，but a little puzzled）...your son’s birthday...yes.
GEORGE：（more or less to himself）O.K.，Martha...O.K.
NICK：You look pale，Honey.Do you want a...？
HONEY：Yes，dear...a little more brandy，maybe.Just a drop.GEORGE：O.K.，Martha.
NICK：May I use the...uh...bar④？
GEORGE：Hm？Oh，yes...yes...by all means.Drink away...you’ll need it as the years go on.（For MARTHA，as if she were in the room.）You goddamn destructive...
HONEY：（to cover）What time is it，dear？
NICK：Two－thirty.
HONEY：Oh，it’s so late...we should be getting home.
GEORGE：（nastily，but he is so preoccupied he hardly notices his own tone）For what？You keeping the babysitter up，or something？
NICK：（almost a warning）I told you we didn’t have children.
GEORGE：Hm？（realizing）Oh，I’m sorry.I wasn’t even listening...or thinking.（with a flick of his hand）...whichever one applies.
NICK：（softly，to HONEY）We’ll go in a little while.
GEORGE：（driving）Oh no，now...you mustn’t.Martha is changing...and Martha is not changing for me.Martha hasn’t changed for me in years.If Martha is changing，it means we’ll be here for...days.You are being accorded an honor，and you must not forget that Martha is the daughter of our beloved boss.She is his...right ball，you might say.
NICK：You might not understand this...but I wish you wouldn’t talk that way in front of my wife.
HONEY：Oh，now...
GEORGE：（incredulous）Really？Well，you’re quite right...We’ll leave that sort of talk to Martha.
MARTHA：（entering）What sort of talk？
（MARTHAhas changed her clothes，and she looks，now，more comfortable and...and this is most important...most voluptuous.）
GEORGE：There you are，my pet.
NICK：（impressed；rising）Well，now...
GEORGE：Why，Martha...your Sunday chapel dress！
HONEY：（slightly disapproving）Oh，that’s most attractive.
MARTHA：（showing off）You like it？Good！（to GEORGE）What the hell do you mean screaming up the stairs at me like that？
GEORGE：We got lonely，darling...we got lonely for the soft purr of your little voice.
MARTHA：（deciding not to rise to it）Oh.Well，then，you just trot over to the barie－poo...
GEORGE：（taking the tone from her）...and make your little mommy agweat big dwink.
MARTHA：（giggles）That’s right.（to NICK）Well，did you two have a nice little talk？
You men solve the problems of the world，as usual？
NICK：Well，no，we...
GEORGE：（quickly）What we did，actually，if you really want to know，what we did actually is try to figure out what you two were talking about.（HONEY giggles，MARTHA laughs.）
MARTHA：（to HONEY）Aren’t they something？Aren’t these...（cheerfully disdainful）...men the absolute end？（to GEORGE）Why didn’t you sneak upstairs and listen in？
GEORGE：Oh，I wouldn’t have listened.Martha...I would have peeked.
（HONEY giggles，MARTHA laughs.）
NICK：（to GEORGE，with false heartiness）It’s a conspiracy.
GEOROE：And now we’ll never know.Shucks！
MARTHA：（to Nick，as HONEY beams）Hey，you must be quite a boy，getting your Masters⑤when you were...what？...twelve？You hear that，George？
NICK：Twelve－and－a－half，actually.No，nineteen really.（to HONEY）Honey，you needn’t have mentioned that.It...
HONEY：Ohhhh...I’m proud of you...
GEORGE：（seriously，if sadly）That’s very...impressive.
MARTHA：（aggressively）You’re damned right！
GEORGE：（between his teeth）I said I was impressed，Martha，I’m beside myself with jealousy.What do you want me to do，throw up？（to NICK）That really is very impressive.（to HONEY）You should be right proud.
HONEY：（coy）Oh，he’s a pretty nice fella.
GEORGE：（to NICK）I wouldn’t be surprised if you did take over the History Department one of these days.
NICK：The Biology Department.
GEORGE：The Biology Department...of course.I seem preoccupied with history.Oh！What a remark.（He strikes a pose，his hand over his heart，his head raised，his voice stentorian.）“I am preoccupied with history.”
MARTHA：（as HONEY cad NICK chuckle）Ha，ha，ha，HA！
GEORGE：（with some disgust）I think I’ll make myself a drink.
MARTHA：George is not preoccupied with history...George is preoccupied with the History Department.George is preoccupied with the History Department because...
GEORGE：...because he is not the History Department，but is only in the History Department.We know，Martha...we went all through it while you were upstairs...getting up.There’s no need to go through it again.
MARTHA：That’s right，baby...keep it clean.（to the others）George is bagged down in the History Department.He’s an old bog in the History Department，that’s what George is.A bog....A fen...A G.D.swamp.Ha，ha，ha，HA！A swamp！Hey，swamp！Hey SWAMPY！
GEORGE：（with a great effort controls himself...then，as if she had said nothing more than“George，dear”...）Yes，Martha？Can I get you something？
MARTHA：（amused at his game）Well...uh...sure，you can light my cigarette，if you’re of a mind to.
GEORGE：（considers，then moves off）No...there are limits.I mean，man can put up with only so much without he descends a rung or two on the old evolutionary ladder...（Nowaquick aside to NICK.）...which is up your line...（Then back to MARTHA.）...sinks，Martha，and it’s a funny ladder...you can’t reverse yourself...start back up once you’re descending.（MARTHA blows him an arrogant kiss.）Now...I’ll hold your hand when it’s dark and you’re afraid of the bogey man，and I’ll tote your gin bottles out after midnight，so no one’ll see...but I will not light your cigarette.And that，as they say，is that.（Brief silence.）
MARTHA：（under her breath）Jesus！（Then，immediately，to NICK.）Hey，you played football，hunh？
HONEY：（as NICK seems sunk in thought）Dear...
NICK：Oh！Oh，yes...I was a...quarterback...but I was much more...adept...at boxing，really.
MARTHA：（with great enthusiasm）BOXING！You hear that，George？
GEORGE：（resignedly）Yes，Martha.
MARTHA：（to NICK，with peculiar intensity and enthusiasm）You musta been pretty good at it...I mean，you don’t look like you got hit in the face at all.
HONEY：（proudly）He was intercollegiate state middleweight champion.
NICK：（embarrassed）Honey...
HONEY：Well，you were.
MARTHA：You look like you still got a pretty good body now，too...is that right？Have you？
GEORGE：（intensely）Martha...decency forbids...
MARTHA：（to GEORGE...still staring at NICK，though）
SHUT UP！（Now，back to NICK.）Well，have you？Have you kept your body？
NICK：（unselfconscious...almost encouraging her）It’s still pretty good.I work out.
MARTHA：（with a half－smile）Do you！
NICK：Yeah.
HONEY：Oh，yes...he has a very...firm body.
MARTHA：（still with that smile...aprivate communication with NICK）Have you？Oh，I think that’s very nice.
NICK：（narcissistic，but not directly for MARTHA）Well，you never know...（shrugs）...you know...once you have it...
MARTHA：...you never know when it’s going to come in handy.
NICK：I was going to say...why give it up until you have to.
MARTHA：I couldn’t agree with you more.（They both smile，and there is a rapport ofsome unformed sort established.）I couldn’t agree with you more.
GEORGE：Martha，your obscenity is more than...
MARTHA：George，here，doesn’t cotton much to body’s talk⑥...do you sweetheart？（No reply.）George isn’t too happy when we get to muscle.You know...flat bellies，pectorals...
GEORGE：（to HONEY）Would you like to take a walk around the garden？
HONEY：（chiding）Oh，now...
GEORGE：（incredulous）You’re amused？（shrugs）All right.
MARTHA：Paunchy⑦over there isn’t too happy when the conversation moves to muscle.How much do you weigh？
NICK：A hundred and fifty－five，a hundred and...
MARTHA：Still at the old middleweight limit，eh？That’s pretty good.（swings around）Hey George，tell’em about the boxing match we had.
GEORGE：（slamming his drink down，moving toward the hall）Christ！
MARTHA：George！Tell’em about it！
GEORGE：（with a sick look on his face）You tell them，Martha.You’re good at it.（Eixts）
HONEY：Is he...all right？
MARTHA：（laughs）Him？Oh，sure.George and I had this boxing match...Oh，Lord，twenty years ago...a couple of years after we were married.
NICK：A boxing match？The two of you？
HONEY：Really？
NICK：Yup⑧...the two of us...really.
HONEY：（with a little shivery giggle of anticipation）I can’t imagine it.
MARTHA：Well，like I say，it was twenty years ago，and it wasn’t in a ring，or anything like that，you know what I mean.It was wartime，and Daddy was on this physical fitness kick...Daddy’s always admired physical fitness...says a man is only part brain...he has a body，too，and it’s his responsibility to keep both of them up...you know？
NICK：Unh－hunh.
MARTHA：Says the brain can’t work unless the body’s working，too.
NICK：Well，that’s not exactly so...
MARTHA：Well，maybe that isn’t what he says...something like it.But...it was wartime，and Daddy got the idea all the men should learn how to box...self－defense.I suppose the idea was if the Germans landed on the coast，or something，the whole faculty’d go out and punch’em to death...I don’t know.
NICK：It was probably more the principle of the thing.
MARTHA：No kidding.Anyway，so Daddy had a couple of us over one Sunday and we went out in the back，and Daddy put on the gloves himself.Daddy’s a strong man...Well，youknow.
NICK：Yes...Yes
MARTHA：And he asked George to box with him.Aaaaannnnd...George didn’t want to...probably something about not wanting to bloody－up his meal ticket...
NICK：Unh－hunh.
MARTHA：...Anyway，George said he didn’t want to，and Daddy was saying，“Come on，young man...what sort of son－in－laware you？”...and stuff like that.
NICK：Yeah.
MARTHA：So，while this was going on...I don’t know why I did it...I got into a pair of gloves myself...you know，I didn’t lace’em up，or anything...and I snuck up behind George，just kidding，and I yelled“Hey George！”and at the same time I let go sort of a roundhouse right...just kidding，you know？
NICK：Unh－hunh.
MARTHA：...and George wheeled around real quick，and he caught it right in the jaw...POW！（NICK laughs.）I hadn’t meant it...honestly.Anyway...POW！Right in the jaw...and he was off balance...he must have been...and he stumbled back a few steps，and then，CRASH，he landed...flat...in a huckleberry bush！（NICK laughs.HONEY goes tsk，tsk，tsk，tsk⑨，and shakes her head.）It was awful，really.It was funny，but it was awful.（She thinks，gives a muffled laugh in rueful contemplation of the incident.）I think it’s colored our whole life.Really I do！It’s an excuse，anyway.（GEORGE enters now，his hands behind his back.No one sees him.）It’s what he uses for being bogged down，anyway...why he hasn’t gone anywhere.（CEORGE advances.HONEY sees him.）
MARTHA：And it was an accident...a real，goddamn accident！（GEORGE takes from behind his back a short－barreled shotgun，and calmly aims it at the back of MARTHA’S head.HONEYscreams...rises.NICK rises，and，simultaneously，MARTHA turns her head to face GEORGE.GEORGE pulls the trigger.）
GEORGE：POW！（Pop！From the barrel of the gun blossoms a large red and yellow Chinese parasol.HONEY screams again，this time less，and mostly from relief and confusion.）
You’re dead！Pow！You’re dead！
NICK：（laughing）Good Lord.
（HONEY is beside herself.MARTHA Laughs too...almost breaks down，her great laugh booming.GEORGE joins in the general laughter and confusion.It dies，eventually.）
HONEY：Oh！My goodness！
MARTHA：（joyously）Where’d you get that，you bastard？
NICK：（his hand out for the gun）Let me see that，will you？
（GEORGE hands him the gun.）
HONEY：I’ve never been so frightened in my life！Never！
GEORGE：（a trifle abstracted）Oh，I’ve had it awhile.Did you like that？
MARTHA：（giggling）You bastard.
HONEY：（wanting attention）I’ve never been so frightened...never.
NICK：This is quite a gadget.
GEORGE：（leaning over MARTHA）You liked that，did you？
MARTHA：Yeah...that was pretty good.（softer）C’mon...give me a kiss.
GEORGE：（indicating NICK and HONEY）Later，sweetie.
（But MARTHA will not be dissuaded.They kiss，GEORGE standing，leaning over MARTHA’s chair.She takes his hand，places it on her stage－side breast.He breaks away.）Oh－ho！That’s what you’re after，is it？What are we going to have...blue games for the guests？Hunh？Hunh？
MARTHA：（angry－hurt）You...prick！
GEORGE：（a Pyrrhic victory）Everything in its place，Martha...everything in its own good time.
MARTHA：（an unspoken epithet）You...
GEORGE：（over to NICK，who still has the gun）Here，let me show you...it goes back in，like this.（closes the parasol，reinserts it in the gun）
NICK：That’s damn clever.
GEORGE：（puts the gun down）Drinks now！Drinks for all！（takes NICK’s glass without question...goes to MARTHA.）
MARTHA：（still angry－hurt）I’m not finished.
HONEY：（as GEORGE puts out his hand for her glass）Oh，I think I need something.（he takes her glass，moves back to the portable bar）
NICK：Is that Japanese？
GEORGE：Probably.
HONEY：（to MARTHA）I was never so frightened in my life.Weren’t you frightened？Just for a second？
MARTHA：（smotherinq her rage at GEORGE）I don’t remember.
HONEY：Ohhhh，now...I bet you were.
GEORGE：Dld youreally think I was going to kill you，Martha？
MARTHA：（dripping contempt）You？...Kill me？...That’s a laugh.
GEORGE：Well now，I might...some day.
MARTHA：Fat chance.
NICK：（as GEORGE hands him his drink）Where’s the john？
GEORGE：Through the hall there...and down to your left.
HONEY：Don’tyou come back with any guns，or anything，now.
NICK：（laughs）Oh，no.
MARTHA：You don’t need any props，do you，baby？
NICK：Unh－unh.
MARTHA：（suggestive）I’ll bet not.No fake Jap gun for you，eh？
NICK：（smiles at MARTHA.Then，to GEORGE，indicating a side table near the hall）May I leave my drink here？
GEORGE：（as NICK exits without waiting for a reply）Yeah...sure...why not？We’ve got half－filled glasses everywhere in the house，wherever Martha forgets she’s left them...in the linen closet，on the edge of the bathtub...I even found one in the freezer，once.
MARTHA：（amused in spite of herself）You did not！
GEORGE：Yes I did.
MARTHA：（ibid）You did not！
GEORGE：（giving HONEY her brandy）Yes I did.（to HONEY）Brandy doesn’t give you a hangover？
HONEY：I never mix.And then，I don’t drink very much，either.
GEORGE：（grimaces behind her back）
Oh...that’s good.Your...your husband was telling me all about the...chromosomes.
MARTHA：（ugly）The what？
GEORGE：The chromosomes，Martha...the genes，or whatever they are.（to HONEY）You’ve got quite a...terrifying husband.
HONEY：（as if she’s being joshed）Ohhhhhhhhh...
GEORGE：No，really.He’s quite terrifying，with his chromosomes，and all.
MARTHA：He’s in the Math Department.
GEORGE：No，Martha...he’s a biologist.
MARTHA：（her voice rising）He’s in the Math Department！
HONEY：（timidly）Uh...biology.
MARTHA：（unconvinced）Are you sure？
HONEY：（with a little giggle）Well，I ought to.（Then as an afterthought.）Be.
MARTHA：（grumpy）I suppose so.I don’t know who said he was in the Math Department.
GEORGE：You did，Martha.
MARTHA：（by way of irritable explanation）
Well，I can’t be expected to remember everything.I meet fifteen new teachers and their goddamn wives...present company outlawed，of course...（HONEY nods，smiles sillily.）...and I’m supposed to remember everything.（pause）So？He’s a biologist.Good for him.Biology’s even better.It’s less...abstruse.
GEORGE：Abstract.
MARTHA：ABSTRUSE！In the sense of recondite.（Sticks her tongue out at GEORGE.）Don’t you tell me words.Bilolgy’s even better.It’s...right at the meat of things.（NICK re－enters.）You’re right at the meat of things，baby.
NICK：（taking his drink from the side table）Oh？
HONEY：（with that giggle）They thought you were in the Math Department.
NICK：Well，maybe I ought to be.
MARTHA：You stay right where you are...you stay right at the...meat of things.
GEORGE：You’re obsessed with that phrase，Martha....It’s ugly.
MARTHA：（ignoring GEORGE...to NICK）You stay right there.（laughs）Hell，you can take over the History Department just as easy from there as anywhere else.God knows，somebody’s going to take over the History Department，some day，and it ain’t going to be Georgie－boy，there...that’s for sure.Are ya，swampy...are ya，hunh？
GEORGE：In my mind，Martha，you are buried in cement，right up to your neck.
（MARTAH giggles.）No...right up to your nose...that’s much quieter.
MARTHA：（to NICK）
Georgie－boy，here，says your’re terrifying.Why are you terrifying？
NICK：（with a small smile）I didn’t know I was.
HONEY：（a little thickly）It’s because of your chromosomes，dear.
NICK：Oh，the chromosome business...
MARTHA：（to NICK）What’s all this about chromosomes？
NICK：Well，chromosomes are...
MARTHA：I know what chromosomes are，sweetie，I love’em.
NICK：Oh...Well，then.
GEORGE：Martha eats them...for breakfast...she sprinkles them on her cereal.（to MARTHA，now.）It’s very simple，Martha，this young man is working on a system whereby chromosomes can be altered...well not all by himself—he probably has one or two co－conspirators—the genetic makeup of a sperm cell changed，reordered...toorder，actually...for hair and eye color，stature，potency...I imagine...hairiness，features，health...and mind.Most important...Mind.All imbalances will be corrected，sifted out...propensity for various diseases will be gone，longevity assured.We will have a race of men...test－tube－bred...incubator－born...superb and sublime.
MARTHA：（impressed）Hunh！
HONEY：How exciting！
GEOROE：But！Everyone will tend to be rather the same...Alike.Everyone...and I’m sure I’m not wrong here...will tend to look like this young man here.
MARTHA：That’s not a bad idea.
NICK：（impatient）All right，now...
GEORGE：It will，on the surface of it，be all rather pretty...quite jolly.But of course there will be a dank side to it，too.A certain amount of regulation will be necessary...uh...for the experiment to succeed.A certain number of sperm tubes will have to be cut.
MARTHA：Hunh！...
GEORGE：Millions upon millions of them...millions of tiny little slicing operations that will leave just the smallest scar，on the underside of the scrotum（MARTHA laughs.）but which will assure the sterility of the imperfect...the ugly，the stupid...the...unfit.
NICK：（grimly）Now look...！
GEORGE：...with this，we will have，in time，a race of glorious men.
MARTHA：Hunh！
GEORGE：I suspect we will not have much music，much painting，but we will have a civilization of men，smooth，blond，and right at the middleweight limit.
MARTHA：Awww...
GEORGE：...a race of scientists and mathematicians，each dedicated to and working for the greater glory of the supercivilization.
MARTHA：Goody.
GEORGE：There will be a certain...loss of liberty，I imagine，a result of this experiment...but diversity will no longer be the goal.Cultures and races will eventually vanish...the ants will take over the world.
NICK：Are you finished？
GEORGE：（ignoring him）And I，naturally，am rather opposed to all this.History，which is my field...history，of which I am one of the most famous bogs....
MARTHA：Ha，ha，HA！
GEORGE：...will lose its glorious variety and unpredictability.I，and with me the...the surprise，the multiplexity，the sea－changing rhythm of...history，will be eliminated.There will be order and constancy...and 1am unalterably opposed to it.I will not give up Berlin！
MARTHA：You’ll give up Berlin，sweetheart.You going to defend it with your paunch？
HONEY：I don’t see what Berlin has to do with anything.
GEORGE：There is a saloon in West Berlin where the barstools are five feet high.And the earth...the floor...is so...far...below you.I will not give up things like that.No...I won’t.I will fight you，young man...one hand on my scrotum，to be sure...but with my free hand I will battle you to the death.
MARTHA：（mocking，laughing）
Bravo！
NICK：（to GEORGE）That’s right.And I am going to be the wave of the future.
MARTHA：You bet you are，baby.
HONEY：（quite drunk—to NICK）I don’t see why you want to do all those things，dear.
You never told me.
NICK：（angry）Oh for God’s sake！
HONEY：（shocked）OH！
GEORGE：The most profound indication of a social malignancy...no sense of humor.None of the monoliths⑩could take a joke.Read history.I know something about history.
NICK：（to GEORGE，trying to make light of it all）You...you don’t know much about science，do you？
GEORGE：I know something about history.I know when I’m being threatened.
MARTHA：（salaciously—to NICK）So，everyone’s going to look like you，eh？
NICK：Oh，sure.I’m going to be a personal screwing machine！
MARTHA：Isn’t that nice.
HONEY：（her hands over her ears）Dear，you mustn’t...you mustn’t...you mustn’t.
NICK：（impatiently）I’m sorry，Honey.
HONEY：Such language.It’s...
NICK：I’msorry.All right？
HONEY：（pouting）Well...all right.（suddenly she giggles insanely，subsides.to GEORGE）...When is your Son？（giggles again）
GEORGE：What？
NICK：（distastefully）Something about your son.
GEORGE：SON！
HONEY：When is...where is your son...coming home？（giggles）
GEORGE：Ohhhh.（Too formal.）Martha？When is our son coming home？
MARTHA：Never mind.
GEORGE：No，no...I want to know...you brought it out into the open.When is he coming home，Martha？
MARTHA：I said never mind.I’m sorry I brought it up.
GEORGE：Him up...not it.You brought him up.Well，more or less.When’s the little bugger going to appear，hunh？I mean isn’t tomorrow meant to be his birthday，or something？
MARTHA：I don’t want to talk about it！
GEORGE：（falsely innocent）But Martha...
MARTHA：I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT！
GEORGE：I’ll bet you don’t.（to HONEY and NICK）Martha does not want to talk about it...him.Martha is sorry she brought it up...him.
HONEY：（idiotically）When’s the little bugger coming home？（giggles）
GEORGE：Yes，Martha...since you had the bad taste to bring the matter up in the first place...when is the little bugger coming home？
NICK：Honey，do you think you...？
MARTHA：George talks disparagingly about the little bugger because...well，because he has problems.
GEORGE：The little bugger has problems？What problems has the little bugger got？
MARTHA：Not the little bugger...stop calling him that！You！You’ve got problems.
GEORGE：（feigned disdain）I’ve never heard of anything more ridiculous in my life.
HONEY：Neither have I！
NICK：Honey...
MARTHA：George’s biggest problem about the little...ha，ha，ha，HA...about our son，about our great big son，is that deep down in the private－most pit of his gut，he’s not completely sure it’s his own kid.
GEORGE：（deeply serious）My God，you’re a wicked woman.
MARTHA：And I’ve told you a million times，baby...I wouldn’t conceive with anyone but you...you know that，baby.
GEORGE：A deeply wicked person.
HONEY：（deep in drunken grief）My，my，my，my.Oh，my.
NICK：I’m not sure that this is a subject for...
GEORGE：Martha’s lying.I want you to know that，right now.Martha’s lying.（MARTHA laughs.）There are very few things in this world that I am sure of...national boundaries，the level of the ocean，political allegiances，practical morality...none of these would I stake my stick on any more...but the one thing in this whole sinking world that I am sure of is my partnership，my chromosomological partnership in the...creation of our...blond－eyed，blue－haired...son.
HONEY：Oh，I’m so glad！
MARTHA：That was a very pretty speech，George.
GEORGE：Thank you，Martha.
MARTHA：You rose to the occasion...good.Real good.
HONEY：Well...real well.
NICK：Honey...
GEORGE：Martha knows...she knows better.
MARTHA：（proudly）I know better.I been to college like everybody else.
GEORGE：Martha’ve been to college.Martha’ve been to a convent when she were a little twig of a thing，too.
MARTHA：And I was an atheist.（uncertainly）I still am.
GEORGE：Not an atheist，Martha...a pagan.（to HONEY and NICK）Martha is the only true pagan on the eastern seaboard.（MARTHA laughs.）
HONEY：Oh，that’s nice.Isn’t that nice，dear？
NICK：（humoring her）Yes...wonderful.
GEORGE：And Martha paints blue circles around her things.
NICK：You do？
MARTHA：（defensively，for the joke’s sake）Sometimes，（beckoning）You wanna see？
GEORGE：（admonishing）
Tut，tut，tut.
MARTHA：Tut，tot yourself...you old floozie！
HONEY：He’s not a floozie...he can’t be a floozie...you’re a floozie.（giggles）
MARTHA：（shaking afinger at HONEY）Now you watch yourself！
HONEY：（cheerfully）All right.I’d like a nipper of brandy，please.
NICK：Honey，I think you’ve had enough，now...
GEORGE：Nonsense！Everybody’s ready，I think.（Takes glasses，etc.）
HONEY：（echoing GEORGE）Nonsense.
NICK：（shrugging）O.K.
...
【注释】
①lllyria...Penguin Island...Gomorrah：generally refer to a place for sexual freedom
②New Carthage：the college where George and Nick work
③Whadd’ya want＝what do you want
④bar：place where drinks are stored in George’s home
⑤Masters：holders of the second university degree
⑥body’s talk：apun indicating sex appeal
⑦Paunchy：here means George with a fat belly
⑧Yup：yes
⑨Honey goes tsk，tsk，tsk，tsk：clicks of tongue given off by Honey.
⑩monolith：individuals with no divergence or distinction
【讨论题】
1.Explain the significance of the title，Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf？
2.Why do Martha and George decide to tear each other apart in front of Honey and Nick？
3.What is the significance of sexuality in the play？
10.The America Play
Suzan－Lori Parks
【简介与赏析】
苏珊·洛莉·帕克斯（Suzan－Lori Parks，1963— ）于1963年5月10日出生于肯塔基州的诺克斯堡的一个军人家庭。由于父亲是一名军官，因此全家经常搬迁。作为随军家属，她曾在德国度过少年时光，在那儿上过初中以及一段时间的高中，随后考入马萨诸塞州的芒特霍利约克学院，主修英语和德语。
帕克斯是美国新生代剧作家，是继奥古斯特·威尔逊之后又一位多产的非裔美国剧作家。她的主要代表剧作有《罪人之地》（The Sinner’s Place，1984），《第三王国的渐变》（Imperceptible Mutabilities in the Third Kingdom，1989），《赌那匹绝尘大侠》（Betting on the Dust Commander，1990），《全世界最后一个黑人的死亡》（The Death of the Last Black Man in the Whole Entire World，1990），《爱之园的信徒》（Devotees in the Garden of Love，1992），《美国戏剧》（The America Play，1994），《维纳斯》（Venus，1996），《在血泊中》（In The Blood，1999），《去他妈的A》（Fucking A，2000），《强者/弱者》（Topdog/Underdog，2001）和《365日/365剧》（365Days/365Plays，2006）等。她的戏剧曾获得多个重要奖项，其中剧作《第三王国的渐变》和《维纳斯》获得奥比奖，《强者/弱者》荣获2002年的普利策戏剧奖，帕克斯也因此成为美国戏剧界第一位获得普利策奖的黑人女性。帕克斯已成为新世纪美国戏剧的核心人物，评论家们预言帕克斯是下一位伟大的美国戏剧家。
帕克斯的戏剧讨论得最多的主题是历史，尤其是非裔黑人的历史。她的戏剧聚焦种族、历史、文化和非裔女性的生存状态等话题，通过挖掘历史，重新书写，体现了她对美国黑人生活的独特思考。
《美国戏剧》
帕克斯的《美国戏剧》创作于1994年。该剧共两幕，剧作者试图通过这样一个故事来唤醒人们对处于主流话语边缘的美国非裔黑人历史的记忆。第一幕交代了一个黑人盗墓者（剧中名为the Foundling Father，the Lesser Known），自认为长得像“伟人”（the Great Man）亚伯拉罕·林肯，于是他装扮成林肯总统的样子，坐在“包厢”里让路人扮演当年刺杀林肯的约翰·威尔克斯·布思（John Wilkes Booth）来射杀他，从中获取小费，以此谋生。第二幕中扮演林肯的掘墓人真的死了，他的妻子与儿子找到他，最后将他安葬。该剧剧情十分简单，但是却有着深刻的历史蕴涵。林肯是美国历史上首位通过废除奴隶制而承认非裔黑人在美国合法地位的总统，但是他最终遭到的劫难说明了美国社会对非裔黑人的种族歧视。The Foundling Father喻指非裔黑人被抛弃的历史，与the Founding Father形成鲜明对照，即在主流社会，黑人是the Lesser Known。路人对林肯扮演者一次次的射杀，正说明种族歧视在白人心中根深蒂固，而一声声的枪声，也提醒人们勿忘黑人被歧视的历史。
【剧本选读】
Characters
（Act One）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER，AS ABRAHAM LINCOLN
A VARIETY OF VISITORS
In the beginning，all the world was America.
—JOHN LOCKE
ACT ONE LINCOLN ACT
A great hole.In the middle of nowhere.The hole is an exact replica of the Great Hole of History.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER AS ABRAHAM LINCOLN：“To stop too fearful and too faint to go.”①
（Rest）
“He digged the Hole and the whole held him.”
（Rest）
“I cannot dig，to beg I am ashamed.”②
（Rest）
“He went to the theatre but home went she.”③
（Rest）
Goatee.Goatee.What he sported when he died.Its not my favorite.
（Rest）
“He digged the hole and the whole held him.”Huh.
（Rest）
There was once a man who was told that he bore a strong resemblance to Abraham Lincoln.He was tall and thinly built just like the Great Man.His legs were the longer part just like the Great Mans legs.His hands and feet were large as the Great Mans were large.The Less Known had several beards which he carried around in a box.The beards were his although he himself had not grown them on his face but since he’d secretly bought the hairs from his barber and arranged their beard shapes and since the procurement and upkeep of his beards took so much work he figured that the beards were completely his.Were as authentic as he was，so to speak.His beard box was of cherry wood and lined with purple velvet.He had the initials“A.L.”tooled in gold on the lid.
（Rest）
While the Great Mans livelihood kept him in Big Town the Lesser Knowns work kept him in Small Town.The Great Man by trade was a President.The Lesser known was a Digger by trade.From a family of Diggers.Digged graves.He was known in Small Town to dig his graves quickly and neatly.This brought him a steady business.
（Rest）
A wink to Mr.Lincolns pasteboard cutout.（Winks at Lincoln’s pasteboard cutout）
（Rest）
It would be helpful to our story if when the Great Man died in death he were to meet the Lesser Known.It would be helpful to our story if，say，the Lesser Known were summoned to Big Town by the Great Mans wife：“Emergency oh，Emergency，please put the Great Man in the ground”④（they say the Great Mans wife was given to hysterics：one young son dead others sickly：even the Great Man couldnt save them：a war on then off and surrendered to：“Play Dixie I always liked that song”⑤：the brother against the brother：a new nation all conceived and ready to be hatched：the Great Man takes to guffawing guffawing at thin jokes in bad plays：“You sockdologizing old mantrap！”⑥haw haw haw because he wants so very badly to laugh at something and one moment guffawing and the next moment the Great Man is gunned down.In his rocker.“Useless Useless.”⑦And there were bills to pay.）“Emergency，oh Emergencyplease put the Great Man in the ground.”
（Rest）
It is said that the Great Mans wife did call out and it is said that the Lesser Known would［sneak away from his digging and stand behind a tree where he couldnt be seen or get up and］leave his wife and child after the blessing had been said and［the meat carved during the distribution of the vegetables it is said that he would leave his wife and his child and］standing in the kitchen or sometimes out in the yard［between the right angles of the house］stand out there where he couldnt be seen standing with his ear cocked.“Emergency，oh Emergencyplease put the Great Man in the ground.”
（Rest）
It would help if she had called out and if he had been summoned been given a ticket all bought and paid for and boarded a train in his look－alike black frock coat bought on time and already exhausted.Ridiculous.If he had been summoned.［Been summoned between the meat and the vegetables and boarded a train to Big Town where he would line up and gawk at the Great Mans corpse along with the rest of them.］But none of this was meant to be.
（Rest）
A nod to the bust of Mr.Lincoln.（Nods to the bust of Lincoln）But none of this was meant to be.For the Great Man had been murdered long before the Lesser Known had been born.Howuhboutthat.［So that any calling that had been done he couldnt hear，any summoning he had hoped for he couldnt answer but somehow not even unheard and unanswered because he hadnt even been there］although you should note that he talked about the murder and the mourning that followed as if he’d been called away on business at the time and because of the business had missed it.Living regretting he hadnt arrived sooner.Being told from birth practically that he and the Great Man were dead ringers，more or less，and knowing that he，if he had been in the slightest vicinity back then，would have had at least a chance at the great honor of digging the Great Mans grave.
（Rest）
This beard I wear for the holidays.I got shoes to match.Rarely wear em together.It’s a little much.
（Rest）
［His son named in a fit of meanspirit after the bad joke about fancy nuts and old mens toes his son looked like a nobody.Not Mr.Lincoln or the father or the mother either for that matter although the father had assumed the superiority of his own blood and hadnt really expected the mother to exert any influence.］
（Rest）
Sunday.Always slow on Sunday.I’ll get thuh shoes.Youll see.A wink to Mr.Lincolns pasteboard cutout.（Winks at Lincoln’s cutout）
（Rest）
Everyone who has ever walked the earth has a shape around which their entire lives and their posterity shapes itself.The Great Man had his log cabin into which he was born，the distance between the cabin and Big Town multiplied by the half－life，the staying power of his words and image，being the true measurement of the Great Mans stature.The Lesser Known had a favorite hole.A chasm，really.Not a hole he had digged but one he’d visited.Long before the son was born.When he and his Lucy were newly wedded.Lucy kept secrets for the dead.And they figured what with his digging and her Confidence work they could build a mourning business.The son would be a weeper.Such a long time uhgo.So long uhgo.When he and his Lucy were newly wedded and looking for some postnuptial excitement：A Big Hole.A theme park.With historical parades.The size of the hole itself was enough to impress any Digger but it was the Historicity of the place the order and beauty of the pageants which marched by them the Greats on parade in front of them.From the sidelines he’d be calling“Ohwayohwhyohwayoh”and“Hello”and waving and saluting.The Hole and its Historicity and the part he played in it all gave a shape to the life and posterity of the Lesser Known that he could never shake.
（Rest）
Here they are.I wont put them on.I’ll just hold them up.See.Too much.Told ya.［Much much later when the Lesser Known had made a name for himself he began to record his own movements.He hoped he’d be of interest to posterity.As in the Great Mans footsteps.］
（Rest）
Traveling home again from the honeymoon at the Big Hotel riding the train with his Lucy：wife beside him the Reconstructed Historicities he has witnessed continue to march before him in his minds eye as they had at the Hole.Cannons wicks were lit and the rockets did blare and the enemy was slain and lay stretched out and smoldering for dead and rose up again to take their bows.On the way home again the histories paraded again on past him although it wasnt on past him at all it wasnt something he could expect but again like Lincolns life not“on past”but past.Behind him.Like an echo in his head.
（Rest）
When he got home again he began to hear the summoning.At first they thought it only an echo.Memories sometimes stuck like that and he and his Lucy had both seen visions.But after a while it only called to him.And it became louder not softer but louder louder as if he were moving toward it.
（Rest）
This is my fancy beard.Yellow.Mr.Lincolns hair was dark so I dont wear it much.If you deviate too much they wont get their pleasure.Thats my experience.Some inconsistencies are perpetuatable because theyre good for business.But not the yellow beard.Its just my fancy.Ev－ery once and a while.Of course，his hair was dark.
（Rest）
The Lesser Known left his wife and child and went out West finally.［Between the meat and the vegetables.A monumentous journey.Enduring all the elements.Without a friend in the world.And the beasts of the forest took him in.He got there and he got his plot he staked his claim he tried his hand at his own Big Hole.］As it had been back East everywhere out West he went people remarked on his likeness to Lincoln.How，in a limited sort of way，taking into account of course his natural God－given limitations，how he was identical to the Great Man in gait and manner how his legs were long and torso short.The Lesser Known had by this time taken to wearing a false wart on his cheek in remembrance of the Great Mans wart.When the Westerners noted his wart they pronounced the 2men in virtual twinship.
（Rest）
Goatee.Huh.Goatee.
（Rest）
“He digged the Hole and the Whole held him.”
（Rest）
“I cannot dig，to beg I am shamed.”
（Rest）
The Lesser Known had under his belt a few of the Great Mans words and after a day of digging，in the evenings，would stand in his hole reciting.But the Lesser Known was a curiosity at best.None of those who spoke of his virtual twinship with greatness would actually pay money to watch him be that greatness.One day he tacked up posters inviting them to come and throw old food at him while he spoke.This was a moderate success.People began to save their old food“for Mr.Lincoln”they said.He took to traveling playing small towns.Made money.And when someone remarked that he played Lincoln so well that he ought to be shot，it was as if the Great Mans footsteps had been suddenly revealed：
（Rest）
The Lesser Known returned to his hole and，instead of speeching，his act would now consist of a single chair，a rocker，in a dark box.The public was invited to pay apenny，choose from the selection of provided pistols，entered the darkened box and“Shoot Mr.Lincoln”.The Lesser Known became famous overnight.
（A man，as John Wilkes Booth，enters.He takes a gun and“stands in position”：at the left side of the Foundling Father，as Abraham Lincoln，pointing the gun at the Foundling Father’s head）
A Man：Ready.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Haw Haw Haw Haw
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（Booth shoots.Lincoln“slumps in his chair.”Booth jumps）
A MAN（Theatrically）：“Thus to the tyrants！”⑧
（Rest）
Hhhh.（Exits）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Most of them do that，thuh“Thus to the tyrants！”
—what they say the killer said.“Thus to the tyrants！”The killer was also heard to say
“The South is avenged！”⑨Sometimes they yell that.
（A Man，the same as before，enters again，again as John Wilkes Booth.He takes a gun and“stands in position”：at the left side of the Foundling Father，as Abraham Lincoln，pointing the gun at the Foundling Father’s head）
A Man：Ready.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Haw Haw Haw Haw
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（Booth shoots.Lincoln“slumps in his chair.”Booth jumps）
A MAN（Theatrically）：“The South is avenged！”
（Rest）
Hhhh.
（Rest）
Thank you.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Pleasures mine.
A Man：Till next week.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Till next week.
（A Man exits）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Comes once a week that one.Always choose the Derringer although we’ve got several styles he always chooses the Derringer.Always“The tyrants”and then“The South avenged.”The ones who choose the Derringer are the ones for History.He’s one for History.As it Used to Be.Never wavers.No frills.By the book.Nothing excessive.
（Rest）
A nod to Mr.Lincoln’s bust.（Nod’s to Mr.Lincoln’s bust）
（Rest）
I’ll wear this one.He sported this style in the early war years.Years of the uncertainty.When he didnt know if the war was right when it could be said he didnt always know which side he was on not because he was a stupid man but because it was sometimes not 2different sides at all but one great side surging toward something beyond either Northern or Southern.A beard of uncertainty.The Lesser Known meanwhile living his life long after all this had happened and not knowing much about it until he was much older［（as a boy“The Civil War”was an afterschool game and his folks didnt mention the Great Mans murder for fear of frightening him）］knew only that he was a dead ringer in a family of Diggers and that he wanted to grow and have others think of him and remove their hats and touch their hearts and look up into the heavens and say something about the freeing of the slaves.That is，he wanted to make a great impression as he understood Mr.Lincoln to have made.
（Rest）
And so in his youth the Lesser Known familiarized himself with all aspects of the Great Mans existence.What interested the Lesser Known most was the murder and what was most captivating about the murder was the 20feet—
（A Woman，as Booth，enters）
A WOMAN：Excuse me.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Not at all.
（A Woman，as Booth，“stands in position”）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Haw Haw Haw Haw
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（Booth shoots.Lincoln“slumps in his chair”.Booth jumps）
A WOMAN：“Strike the tent”⑩.（Exits）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：What interested the Lesser Known most about the Great Mans murder was the 20feet which separated the presidents box from the stage.In the presidents box sat the president his wife and their 2friends.On the stage that night was Our American Cousin starring Miss Laura Keene.The plot of this play is a little consequence to our story.Suffice it to say that it was thinly comedic and somewhere in the 3rd Act a man holds a gun to his head—something about despair—（Rest）
Ladies and Gentlemen：Our American Cousin—
（B Woman，as Booth，enters.She“stands in position”）
B WOMAN：Go ahead.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Haw Haw Haw Haw
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（Booth shoots.Lincoln“slumps in his chair”.Booth jumps）
B WOMAN（Rest）：LIES！
（Rest）
L I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I E S！
（Rest）
L I I I I I I I I I I A R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R S！
（Rest）
Lies.
（Rest.Exits.Reenters.Steps downstage.Rest）
LIES！
（Rest）
L I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I E S！
（Rest）
L I I I I I I I I I I A R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R R S！
（Rest）
Lies.
（Rest.Exits）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER（Rest）：I think I’ll wear the yellow beard.Variety.Works like uh tonic.（Rest）
Some inaccuracies are good for business.Take the stovepipe hat！Never really worn indoors but people dont like their Lincoln hatless.
（Rest）
Mr.Lincoln my apologies.（Nods to the bust and winks to the cutout）
（Rest）
［Blonde.Not bad if you like a stretch.Hmmm.Let us pretend for a moment that our beloved Mr.Lincoln was a blonde.“The sun on his fair hair looked like the sun itself.”
—.Now.What interested our Mr.Lesser Known most was those feet between the Great Blonde Man sat，in his rocker，the stage，the time it took the murderer to cross that expanse，and how the murderer crossed it.He jumped.Broke his leg in the jumping.It was said that the Great Mans wife then began to scream.（She was given to hysterics several years afterward in fact declared insane did you know she ran around Big Town poor desperate for money trying to sell her clothing？On that sad night she begged her servant：“Bring in Taddy，Father will speak to Taddy.”
But Father died instead unconscious.And she went mad from grief.Off her rocker.Mad Mary claims she hears her dead men.Summoning.The older son，Robert，he locked her up：“Emergency，oh，Emergencyplease put the Great Man in the ground.”）
（Enter B Man，as Booth.He“stands in position”）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Haw Haw Haw Haw
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（Booth shoots.Lincoln“slumps in his chair”.Booth jumps）
B MAN：“Now he belongs to the ages.”
（Rest）
Blonde？
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：（I only talk with the regulars.）
B MAN：He wasnt blonde.（Exits）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：A slight deafness in this ear other than that there are no side effects.
（Rest）
Hhh.Clean－shaven for a while.The face needs air.Clean－shaven as in his youth.When he met his Mary.—.Hhh.Blonde.
（Rest）
6feet under is a long way to go.Imagine.When the Lesser Known left to find his way out West he figured he had dug over 7hundred and 23graves.7hundred and 23.Excluding his Big Hole.Excluding the hundreds of shallow holes he later digs the hundreds of shallow holes he’ll use to bury his faux－historical knickknacks when he finally quits this business.Not including those.7hundred and 23graves.
（C Man and C Woman enter）
C MAN：You allow 2at once？
THE FOUNDLING FATHER
（Rest）
C WOMAN：We’re just married.You know：newlyweds.We hope you dont mind.Us both at once.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER
（Rest）
C MAN：We’re just married.
C WOMAN：Newlyweds.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER
（Rest）
（Rest）
（They“stand in position”.Both hold one gun）
C MAN AND C WOMAN：Shoot.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Haw Haw Haw Haw
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（Rest）
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（They shoot.Lincoln“slumps in his chair.”They jump）
C MAN：Go on.
C WOMAN（Theatrically）：“Theyve killed the president！”
（Rest.They exist）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Theyll have children and theyll bring their children here.A slight deafness in this ear other than that there are no side effects.Little ringing in the ears.Slight deafness.I cant complain.
（Rest）
The passage of time.The crossing of space.［The Lesser Known recorded his every moment.］He’d hope he’d be of interest in his posterity.［Once again riding in the Great Mans footsteps.］A nod to the presidents bust.（Nods）
（Rest）
（Rest）
The Great Man lived in the past that is was an inhabitant of time immemorial and the Lesser Known out West alive a resident of the present.And the Great Mans deeds had transpired during the life of the Great Man somewhere in the past－land that is somewhere“back there”and all this while the Lesser Known digging his holes bearing the burden of his resemblance all the while trying somehow to equal the Great Man in stature，word and deed going forward with his lesser life trying somehow to follow in the Great Mans footsteps footsteps that were of course behind him.The Lesser Known trying somehow to catch up to the Great Man all this while and maybe running too fast in the wrong direction.Which is to say that maybe the Great Man had to catch him.Hhh.Ridiculous.
（Rest）
Full fringe.The way he appears on the money.
（Rest）
A wink to Mr.Lincolns pasteboard cutout.A nod to Mr.Lincolns bust.
（Rest.Time passes.Rest）
When someone remarked that he played Lincoln so well that he ought to be shot it was as if the Great Mans footsteps had been suddenly revealed：instead of making speeches his act would now consist of a single chair，a rocker，in a dark box.The public was cordially invited to pay apenny，choose from a selection of provided pistols enter the darkened box and“Shoot Mr.Lincoln.”The Lesser Known became famous overnight.
（A Man，as John Wilkes Booth enters.He takes a gun and“stands in position”：at the left side of the Foundling Father，as Abraham Lincoln，pointing the gun at the Foundling Father’s head）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Mmmm.Like clockwork.
A MAN：Ready.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Haw Haw Haw Haw
（Rest）
HAW HAW HAW HAW
（Booth shoots.Lincoln“slumps in his chair.”Booth jumps）
A MAN（Theatrically）：“Thus to the tyrants！”
（Rest）
Hhhh.
LINCOLN
BOOTH
LINCOLN
BOOTH
LINCOLN
BOOTH
LINCOLN
BOOTH
LINCOLN
（Booth jumps）
A MAN（Theatrically）：”The South is avenged！”
（Rest）
Hhhh.
（Rest）
Thank you.
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Pleasures mine.
A MAN：Next week then.（Exits）
THE FOUNDLING FATHER：Little ringing in his ears.Slight deafness.
（Rest）
Little ringing in his ears.
（Rest）
A wink to the Great Mans pasteboard cutout.A nod to the Great Mans bust.Once again striding in the Great Mans footsteps.Riding on in.Riding to the rescue the way they do.They both had such long legs.Such big feet.And the Greater Man had such a lead although of course somehow still“back there.”If the Lesser Known had slowed down stopped moving completely gone in reverse died maybe the Greater Man could have caught up.Woulda had a chance.Woulda sneaked up behind him the Greater Man would have sneaked up behind the Lesser Known unbeknownst and wrestled him to the ground.Stabbed him in the back.In revenge.“Thus to the tyrants！”Shot him maybe.The Lesser Known forgets who he is and just crumples.His bones cannot be found.The Greater Man continues on.
（Rest）
“Emergency，oh Emergency，please put the Great Man in the ground.”
（Rest）
Only a little ringing in the ears.Thats all.Slight Deafness.
（Rest）
（He puts on the blonde beard）
Huh.Whatdoyou say I wear the blonde.
（Rest）
（A gunshot echoes.Softly.And Echoes）
【注释】
①An example of chiasmus，by Oliver Goldsmith，cited under“chiasmus”in Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary（Springfield，MA：Merriam－Webster，Inc.，1983）p.232.Notes 2and 3also refer to examples of chiasmus.
②A Dictionary of Modern English Usage，H.W.Fowler（New York：Oxford University Press，1983）p.86.
③The New American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language，William Morris，ed.（Boston：Houghton Miffllin Co.，1981）p.232.
④Possibly the words of Marry Todd Lincoln after the death of her husband.
⑤At the end of the Civil War，President Lincoln told his troops to play“Dixie，”the song of the South，in tribute to the Confederacy.
⑥A very funny line from the play Our American Cousin.As the audience roared with laughter，Booth entered Lincoln’s box and shot him dead.
⑦The last words of President Lincoln’s assassin，John Wilkes Booth.
⑧Or“Sic semper tyrannis.”Purportedly，Booth’s words after he slew Lincoln and leapt from the presidential box to the stage of Ford’s Theatre in Washington，D.C.on 14 April 1865，not only killing the president but also interrupting aperformance of Our American Consin，starring Miss Laura Keene.
⑨Allegedly，Booth’s words.
⑩The last words of General Robert E.Lee，Commander of the Confederate Army.
From“The Sun，”a composition by The Foundling Father，unpublished.
Mary Todd Lincoln，wanting her dying husband to speak to their son Tad，might have said this that night.
The words of Secretary of War Edward Santon，as Lincoln died.
The words of Mary Todd，just after Lincoln was shot.
【讨论题】
1.Why is it called The America Play？
2.What’s the implication of“the great hole”？
3.Why does the playwright repeat the echoes of gunshots in the stage direction？