Play With a Tiger and Other Plays

DAVE: Who else? Anna, I will not be treated like this.

ANNA: Then, go away.

DAVE: We’ve been through this before. Can’t we get it over quickly?

ANNA: No.

DAVE: Come and sit down. And turn out the lights.

ANNA: No.

DAVE: I didn’t know it was as bad as that this time.

ANNA: How long did you think you could go on – you think you can make havoc as you like, and nothing to pay for it, ever?

DAVE: Pay? What for? You’ve got it all wrong, as usual.

ANNA: I’m not discussing it then.

DAVE: ‘I’m not discussing it.’ Well, I’m saying nothing to you while you’ve got your bloody middle-class English act on, it drives me mad.

ANNA: Middle-class English. I’m Australian.

DAVE: You’ve assimilated so well.

ANNA [in an Australian accent]: I’ll say it like this then – I’ll say it any way you like – I’m not discussing it. I’m discussing nothing with you when you’re in your role of tuppence a dozen street corner Romeo. [in English] It’s the same in any accent.

DAVE [getting up and doing his blithe dance step]: It’s the same in any accent. [sitting down again] Baby, you’ve got it wrong. [ANNA laughs.] I tell you, you’ve got it wrong, baby. ANNA [in American]: But baby, it doesn’t mean anything, let’s have a little fun together, baby, just you and me – just a little fun, baby … [in Australian] Ah, damn your guts, you stupid, irresponsible little … [in English] Baby, baby, baby – the anonymous baby. Every woman is baby, for fear you’d whisper the wrong name into the wrong ear in the dark.

DAVE: In the dark with you I use your name, Anna.

ANNA: You used my name.

DAVE: Ah, hell, man, well. Anna beat me up and be done with it and get it over. [a pause] OK, I know it. I don’t know what gets into me; OK I’m still a twelve-year-old slum kid standing on a street corner in Chicago, watching the expensive broads go by and wishing I had the dough to buy them all. OK, I know it. You know it. [a pause] OK and I’m an American God help me, and it’s no secret to the world that there’s bad man-woman trouble in America. [a pause] And everywhere else, if it comes to that. OK, I do my best. But how any man can be faithful to one woman beats me. OK, so one day I’ll grow up. Maybe.

ANNA: Maybe.

DAVE [switching to black aggression]: God, how I hate your smug female guts. All of you – there’s never anything free – everything to be paid for. Every time, an account rendered. Every time, when you’re swinging free there’s a moment when the check lies on the table – pay up, pay up, baby.

ANNA: Have you come here to get on to one of your anti-woman kicks?

DAVE: Well I’m not being any woman’s pet, and that’s what you all want. [leaping up and doing his mocking dance step] I’ve kept out of all the traps so far, and I’m going to keep out.

ANNA: So you’ve kept out of all the traps.

DAVE: That’s right. And I’m not going to stand for you either – mother of the world, the great womb, the eternal conscience. I like women, but I’m going to like them my way and not according to the rules laid down by the incorporated mothers of the universe.

ANNA: Stop it, stop it, stop boasting.

DAVE: But Anna, you’re as bad. There’s always a moment when you become a sort of flaming sword of retribution.

ANNA: At which moment – have you asked yourself? You and I are so close we know everything about each other – and then suddenly, out of the clear blue sky, you start telling me lies like – lies out of a corner-boy’s jest book. I can’t stand it.

DAVE [shouting at her]: Lies – I never tell you lies.

ANNA: Oh hell, Dave.

DAVE: Well you’re not going to be my conscience. I will not let you be my conscience.

ANNA: Amen and hear hear. But why do you make me your conscience?

DAVE [deflating]: I don’t know. [with grim humour] I’m an American. I’m in thrall to the great mother.

ANNA: Well I’m not an American.

DAVE [shouting]: No, but you’re a woman, and at bottom you’re the same as the whole lousy lot of…

ANNA: Get out of here then. Get out.

DAVE [he sits cross-legged, on the edge of the carpet, his head in his hands]: Jesus.

ANNA: You’re feeling guilty so you beat me up. I won’t let you.

DAVE: Come here.

[ANNA goes to him, kneels opposite him, lays her two hands on his diaphragm.]

Yes, like that. [he suddenly relaxes, head back, eyes closed] Anna, when I’m away from you I’m cut off from something – I don’t know what it is. When you put your hands on me, I begin to breathe.

ANNA: Oh. [She lets her hands drop and stands up.]

DAVE: Where are you going?

[ANNA goes back to the window. A silence. A wolf-whistle from the street. Another.]

ANNA: He’s broken his silence. He’s calling her. Deep calls to deep.

[Another whistle. ANNA winces.]

DAVE: You’ve missed me?

ANNA: All the time.

DAVE: What have you been doing?

ANNA: Working a little.

DAVE: What else?