DIANE
:
What like?
MARY
:
You know.
DIANE
:
No.
MARY
:
To be like you.
DIANE
:
Such as?
MARY
:
Beautiful.
(
Pause. During these pauses
DIANE
continues her toilet as does
MARY
her attendance.
)
DIANE
:
Everybody can be beautiful.
MARY
:
You can say that.
DIANE
:
Love makes people beautiful.
MARY
:
You can say that.
DIANE
:
A woman in love is beautiful.
(
Pause.
)
MARY
:
Look at me.
DIANE
:
I’ve got to hurry.
MARY
:
Harry always waits.
DIANE
:
He said he’s got something on his mind.
MARY
:
You’ve got the luck.
(
Pause.
)
MARY
:
Look at me a second.
DIANE
:
All right.
(
MARY
performs an aggressive curtsy.
)
MARY
:
Give me some advice.
DIANE
:
Everybody has their points.
MARY
:
What are my points?
DIANE
:
What are your points?
MARY
:
Name my points.
(
MARY
stands there belligerently. She lifts up her skirt. She rolls up her sleeves. She tucks her sweater in tight.
)
DIANE
:
I’ve got to hurry.
MARY
:
Name one point.
DIANE
:
You’ve got nice hands.
MARY
(
Surprised
):
Do I?
DIANE
:
Very nice hands.
MARY
:
Do I really?
DIANE
:
Hands are very important.
(
MARY
shows her hands to the mirror and gives them little exercises.
)
DIANE
:
Men often look at hands.
MARY
:
They do?
DIANE
:
Often.
MARY
:
What do they think?
DIANE
:
Think?
MARY
(
Impatiently
):
When they look at hands.
DIANE
:
They think: There’s a nice pair of hands.
MARY
:
What else?
DIANE
:
They think: Those are nice hands to hold.
MARY
:
And?
DIANE
:
They think: Those are nice hands to – squeeze.
MARY
:
I’m listening.
DIANE
:
They think: Those are nice hands to – kiss.
MARY
:
Go on.
DIANE
:
They think – (
racking her brain for compassion’s sake.
)
MARY
:
Well?
DIANE
:
Those are nice hands to – love!
MARY
:
Love!
DIANE
:
Yes.
MARY
:
What do you mean “love”?
DIANE
:
I don’t have to explain.
MARY
:
Someone is going to love my hands?
DIANE
:
Yes.
MARY
:
What about my arms?
DIANE
:
What about them? (
A little surly.
)
MARY
:
Are they one of my points?
(
Pause.
)
DIANE
:
I suppose not one of your best.
MARY
:
What about my shoulders?
(
Pause.
)
DIANE
:
Your shoulders are all right.
MARY
:
You know they’re not. They’re not.
DIANE
:
Then what did you ask me for?
MARY
:
What about my bosom?
DIANE
:
I don’t know your bosom.
MARY
:
You do know my bosom.
DIANE
:
I don’t.
MARY
:
You do.
DIANE
:
I do not know your bosom.
MARY
:
You’ve seen me undressed.
DIANE
:
I never looked that hard.
MARY
:
You know my bosom all right. (
But she’ll let it pass. She looks disgustedly at her hands.
)
MARY
:
Hands!
DIANE
:
Don’t be so hard on yourself.
MARY
:
Sexiest knuckles on the block.
DIANE
:
Why hurt yourself?
MARY
:
My fingers are really stacked.
DIANE
:
Stop, sweetie.
MARY
:
They come when they shake hands with me.
DIANE
:
Now please!
MARY
:
You don’t know how it feels.
(
Pause.
)
MARY
:
Just tell me what it’s like.
DIANE
:
What like?
MARY
:
To be beautiful. You’ve never told me.
DIANE
:
There’s no such thing as beautiful.
MARY
:
Sure.
DIANE
:
It’s how you feel.
MARY
:
I’m going to believe that.
DIANE
:
It’s how you feel makes you beautiful.
MARY
:
Do you know how I feel?
DIANE
:
Don’t tell me.
MARY
:
Ugly.
DIANE
:
You don’t have to talk like that.
MARY
:
I feel ugly. What does that make me?
(
DIANE
declines to answer. She steps into her high heeled shoes, the elevation bringing out the harder lines of her legs, adding to her stature an appealing haughtiness and to her general beauty a touch of violence.
)
MARY
:
According to what you said.
DIANE
:
I don’t know.
MARY
:
You said: It’s how you feel makes you beautiful.
DIANE
:
I know what I said.
MARY
:
I feel ugly. So what does that make me?
DIANE
:
I don’t know.
MARY
:
According to what you said.
DIANE
:
I don’t know.
MARY
:
Don’t be afraid to say it.
DIANE
:
Harry will be here.
MARY
:
Say it! (
Launching herself into hysteria.
)
DIANE
:
I’ve got to get ready.
MARY
:
You never say it. You’re afraid to say it. It won’t kill you. The word won’t kill you. You think it but you won’t say it. When you get up in the morning you tiptoe to the bathroom. I tiptoe to the bathroom but I sound like an army. What do you think I think when I hear myself? Don’t you think I know the difference? It’s no secret. It’s not as though there aren’t any mirrors. If you only said it I wouldn’t try. I don’t want to try. I don’t want to have to try. If you only once said I was – ugly!
(
DIANE
comforts her.
)
DIANE
:
You’re not ugly, sweetie. Nobody’s ugly. Everybody can be beautiful. Your turn will come. Your man will come. He’ll take you in his arms. No no no, you’re not ugly. He’ll teach you that you are beautiful. Then you’ll know what it is. (
Cradling her.
)
MARY
:
Will he?
DIANE
:
Of course he will.
MARY
:
Until then?
DIANE
:
You’ve got to keep going, keep looking.
MARY
:
Keep up with my exercises.
DIANE
:
Yes.
MARY
:
Keep up with my ballet lessons.
DIANE
:
Exactly.
MARY
:
Try and lose weight.
DIANE
:
Follow the book.
MARY
:
Brush my hair the right way.
DIANE
:
That’s the spirit.
MARY
:
A hundred strokes.
DIANE
:
Good.
MARY
:
I’ve got to gain confidence.
DIANE
:
You will.
MARY
:
I can’t give up.
DIANE
:
It’s easier than you think.
MARY
:
Concentrate on my best points.
DIANE
:
Make the best of what you have.
MARY
:
Why not start now?
DIANE
:
Why not.
(
MARY
gathers herself together, checks her posture in the mirror, crosses to the record-player and switches it on. “The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies.” She begins the ballet exercises she has learned, perhaps, at the YWCA, two evenings a week. Between the final touches of her toilet
DIANE
encourages her with nods of approval. The door bell rings. Enter
HARRY
in evening clothes, glittering although his expression is solemn, for he has come on an important mission.
)
HARRY
:
Hi girls. Don’t mind me, Mary.
(
MARY
waves in the midst of a difficult contortion.
)
DIANE
:
Darling!
(
DIANE
sweeps
into his arms, takes the attitude of a dancing partner.
HARRY
,
with a trace of reluctance, consents to lead her in a ballroom step across the floor.
)
HARRY
:
I’ve got something on my mind.
(
DIANE
squeezes his arm, disengages herself, crosses to
MARY
and whispers.
)
DIANE
:
He’s got something on his mind.
(
DIANE
and
MARY
embrace in the usual squeaky conspiratorial manner with which girls preface happy matrimonial news. While
MARY
smiles benignly exeunt
HARRY
and
DIANE
.
MARY
turns the machine louder, moves in front of the mirror, resumes the ballet exercises. She stops them from time to time to check various parts of her anatomy in the mirror at close range, as if the effects of the discipline might be already apparent.
)
MARY
:
Goody.
(
A long determined ring of the doorbell.
MARY
stops, eyes bright with expectation. Perhaps the miracle is about to unfold. She smoothes her dress and
