DIRECTOR: And more specifically?
WOMAN: You want to know the distance in inches? (sadly) It used to be me… and… and now it’s her… (gives an expressive shrug) Do you understand?
DIRECTOR: I do. And you didn’t try to pry her loose?
WOMAN: (looks around in fright; speaks in a low tone) “Pry her loose” – easy for you to say! Do you think we didn’t give it our best shot? But there are powerful people behind her… And besides, she’s got dirt on all of us.
DIRECTOR: On you too?
WOMAN: Who’s without sin?
DIRECTOR: And what’s your sin?
WOMAN: A lot of nothing… I mean, really – a little beach house…
DIRECTOR: Where’s the beach?
WOMAN: In Costa Rica.
DIRECTOR: And you’re trembling before her all because of a little house? How small is the house? How many square feet?
WOMAN: I don’t remember exactly. Forty-eight or forty-nine rooms. And there’s a teensy-weensy garden around that cottage… Seven acres or so. Maybe ten.
DIRECTOR: I understand. For a banana plantation. You are the Minister of Agriculture, after all.
WOMAN: I bought it even earlier, when I was in Culture.
DIRECTOR: You said that Culture is the most poverty-stricken of all the ministries
WOMAN: That’s true, but it could still stretch to a teensy-weensy garden.
DIRECTOR: Tell me, why do you need a mansion like that – out in the back of beyond, no less? Your life here is pretty good, no?
WOMAN: You don’t understand anything. We all have the feeling that everything’s going to collapse tomorrow, and we’ll have to make ourselves scarce. So you have to dig yourself a snug little den as far away from here as you can.
DIRECTOR: Why don’t you try to fight back with dirt on her?
WOMAN: (looking scared) We’d better rehearse. I’ve already said too much. Shall we call the prime minister?
DIRECTOR: What do you need him for?
WOMAN: We have to rehearse him ravishing me. You said so yourself.
DIRECTOR: The ravishing’s off.
WOMAN: Pity. I was nearly ready for it.
DIRECTOR: If you feel bad about that, I can ravish you after the rehearsal. Just remind me, please. I have a slew of things to do, so I might forget. In the meantime, give me your speech.
WOMAN: The speech again! Aren’t you sick of it?
DIRECTOR: It’s my job.
WOMAN: Well, I’m sick to death of it. We’re trying so hard, torturing ourselves, but why we’re being forced to go through with this travesty, your guess is as good as mine. Maybe the funeral won’t happen at all.
DIRECTOR: (alarmed) What are you saying, “won’t happen”? What makes you think that?
WOMAN: Who’s going to be buried? The deceased hasn’t died yet, you know.
DIRECTOR: What does “hasn’t died” mean?
WOMAN: It means what it means. Didn’t she tell you? (sees how shocked DIRECTOR is, hesitates) Oh dear – seems I’ve spilled the beans again. All because of that damned party…
DIRECTOR: Hold it, hold it. What were you getting at when you said “the deceased hasn’t died”?
WOMAN: Nothing. We’d better rehearse. (pulling out all the stops) Dear friend!
DIRECTOR: To hell with your dear friend! Who’s not dead?
WOMAN: I don’t know anything. (seeing MAN entering) Look, you’d better ask him.
DIRECTOR: (launches himself at MAN) Tell me: is it true that he’s not dead?
MAN: Who?
DIRECTOR: Who, who?.. The deceased!
MAN: (looks at WOMAN with hate in his eyes) You’ve already blabbed, haven’t you? I’ve always said that you shouldn’t be included, but they wanted a woman. Well, they’ve brought it on themselves.
WOMAN: (guilty) I thought he knew.
MAN: You’re forever speaking before you think. It’s about time you stopped being so… spontaneous.
DIRECTOR: Hold on… I’m not understanding anything. He really isn’t dead?
MAN: Well… On the one hand… Although, on the other… In short, it’s difficult to say…
DIRECTOR: Stop blowing smoke! Tell me in words of one syllable – is he dead or not?
MAN: Back off! He’s not dead.
DIRECTOR: How come?
MAN: This is how. He’s not dead, and that’s that. He’s more alive than any living soul. He’s speaking on TV right now.
DIRECTOR: But what about my show? It’s being called off? So I set up the scenario, mobilized people, equipment, materials, drew up a list of two hundred and forty journalists – and there’ll be nothing to write about?
MAN: It’ll all work out somehow.
DIRECTOR: (pierced by an even more terrible thought) But what about my fee?
MAN: I don’t know. Let’s rehearse.
DIRECTOR: Why, if the show’s being called off?
MAN: She told us to continue regardless.
DIRECTOR: (decisively) Before continuing, I’d like to know when you’re going to pay me.
MAN: As we agreed. After the funeral.
DIRECTOR: After whose funeral – his or mine? He’s ten years younger than me. Or maybe after yours?
MAN: I said immediately after.
DIRECTOR: There’s no such thing as immediately after. It’s either immediately or it’s after. I want it right now.
MAN: But we agreed on after.
DIRECTOR: We haven’t agreed on anything. You said “after,” and I countered with “before.” I demand to be paid immediately. Right now.
MAN: You don’t trust me?
DIRECTOR: Of course I don’t. Who does? Besides, he’s not even dead yet, and nobody really knows if he’ll die or not.
WOMAN: How can he not die, when the funeral’s scheduled already? He’ll die for sure. You don’t believe it?
DIRECTOR: I do. We’re all going to check out, some day. But I want my money now. In full. I can’t wait, because the day after tomorrow I’m flying to the Republic of the Congo to stage the presidential inauguration there. The folks in Africa, unlike you, have paid me in advance. They respect professionals.
MAN: And I’m telling you – slow your roll and cool your jets. He’s going to die.
DIRECTOR: I know. The question is when.
MAN: On the third evening after the full moon, when Jupiter enters Capricorn. Soon, that is.
DIRECTOR: What gibberish is that?
MAN: It’s what the astrologers are predicting.
DIRECTOR: Very good. Then I’ll start rehearsals when Sagittarius enters Virgo. And I’m using the words “Sagittarius” and “Virgo” metaphorically, out of respect for the lady here.
MAN: I’m begging you not to kick up a fuss.
DIRECTOR: Cash on the barrel.
MAN: The consultant will explain it all to you.
DIRECTOR: She said I should talk to you about the money.
CONSULTANT enters.
CONSULTANT: What are you arguing about?
A pause
MAN: The director’s refusing to continue the rehearsal.
CONSULTANT: He’s only joking. (looking DIRECTOR square in the eyes) Aren’t you?
DIRECTOR: It turns out he’s not dead!
CONSULTANT: (chilly) And how is that your business?
DIRECTOR: (bringing his tone down several notches) It’s actually about the money…
CONSULTANT: Aren’t you ashamed to dicker over such a pittance? The pocket change you’re asking for, I carry in my purse as spending money. (stiffly) Do your job.
DIRECTOR: Yes, but they’re saying…
CONSULTANT: I don’t know what they’re saying, but I’m saying that you have to go on with the rehearsal. We’ve been shooting the breeze for an hour and a half already. (in a rigid, low voice) You apparently have a very poor idea of the person you’re working for. This is no place for arrogance and crackbrained notions. Just rehearse, and the rest is no concern of yours.
DIRECTOR: (realizing that he has no choice) Very well.
CONSULTANT: And don’t forget to stick to the text and meet our other terms.
DIRECTOR: I’ll remember.
CONSULTANT: And I’ll sit here, to listen and watch.
DIRECTOR: (struggling to hide his annoyance, addresses his cast) On with the rehearsal. Whose turn is it?
