is the dull but orthodox assistant to DIANE's mysterious
ritual of beauty.
MARY: What is it like?
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 cau 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
lucks 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 tosqueeze.
MARY: I'm listening.
DIANE: They think: Those are nice hands tokiss.
MARY: Go on.
DIANE: They think-(racking her brain for compassion's sake.)
MARY: Well?
1 '47
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.
1 4s I
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.
I 149
DIANE: Harry will be here.
MARY : Say itl (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 :
