Vieux Carre by Tennessee Williams Page B

away
. . .”]
    MRS. WIRE [
from a few steps below the writer
]: What’s paralyzed you there? Son?
    WRITER : Miss Sparks is crying.
    [
Mrs. Wire appears behind the writer in the lighted spot
.]
    MRS. WIRE : That woman’s moanin’ in there don’t mean she’s in pain. Son, I got a suspicion you never had close relations with wimmen in your life.
    JANE : Ohhh!
    WRITER : I never heard sounds like that.
    [
Jane utters a wild cry. It impresses even Mrs. Wire
.]
    TYE’S VOICE : Babe, I don’t wanna force you . . .
    JANE’S VOICE : Plee-ase! I’m not a thing, I’m not— a—thing!
    MRS. WIRE [
shouting
]: You all quit that loud fornication in there!
    TYE’S VOICE [
shouting back
]: Get the fuck downstairs, god-dam ole witch!
    MRS. WIRE : Howlin’ insults at me in my own house, won’t tolerate it! [
She bursts into the room
.] Never seen such a disgustin’ exhibition!
    [
Tye starts to rise from the bed. Jane clings desperately to him
.]
    JANE : As! You see!—Mrs. Wire!—Everything is!—packed, he’s — moving— today . . .
    TYE : The rent is paid in full! So get the fuck outa here!
    JANE : Tye, please.
    MRS. WIRE : What’s in them boxes?
    TYE : None of your—
    JANE : Our personal— belongings, Mrs. Wire.
    MRS. WIRE : That I doubt! The contents of these boxes will be inspected before removed from this place and in the presence of my nephew on the police force!
    [
Tye charges toward Mrs. Wire
.]
    Don’t you expose yourself naykid in my presence! Nursie!
    JANE : Mrs. Wire, for once I do agree with you! Can you get him out, please, please get him out!
    MRS. WIRE [
averting her face with an air of shocked propriety
]: Dress at once and—
    NURSIE : Mizz Wire, I got the hospital on the phone.
    MRS. WIRE : They sendin’ an ambulance for Nightingale?
    NURSIE : Soon’s they got a bed for him, but they want you to call ’em back and—
    MRS. WIRE : St. Vincent’s is run by taxpayers’ money, I’ll remind ’em of that. [
She crosses off stage. Tye slams the door
.]
    [
Jane is sobbing on the bed
.]
    TYE : Now, Babe.
    JANE : If you approach this bed—
    TYE : Just want to comfort you, honey. Can’t we just rest together? Can’t we? Rest and comfort each other?
    [
The area dims as the black pianist sings “Kentucky Baby.”
]
    MRS. WIRE : Cut out that obscene talking up there, I’m on the phone. Emergency call is from here at 722 Toulouse. Christ Almighty, you drive me to profane language. You mean to admit you don’t know the location of the most historical street in the Vieux Carré? You’re not talking to no . . . no nobody, but a personage. Responsible. Reputable. Known to the authorities on the list of attractions. God damn it, you twist my tongue up with your . . . Nursie! Nursie! Will you talk to this incompetent . . . Nursie! Nursie!
    [
Nursie appears
.]
    Got some idiot on the phone at the hospital. Will you inform this idiot who I am in the Quarter. Phone. Talk.
    [
Nursie takes the phone
.]
    NURSIE : Stairs . . . took my breath . . .
    MRS. WIRE [
snatching back the phone
]: Now I want you to know, this here Nightingale case . . . I don’t lack sympathy for the dying or the hopelessly inflicted . . . [
She kicks at Nursie beside her
.] Git! But I’ve got responsibilities to my tenants. Valuable paying tenants, distinguished society ladies, will quit my premises this day, I swear they will, if this Nightingale remains. Why, the State Board of Health will clap a suit on me unless . . . at once . . . ambulance. When? At what time? Don’t say approximate to me. Emergency means immediate. Not when you drag your arse around to it. And just you remember I’m a taxpayer . . . No, no, you not me. I pay, you collect. Now get the ambulance here immediately, 722 Toulouse, with a stretcher