PLAYWRIGHT: Considering the nature of the material, if we’re gonna lose notices on a line, we’ve already lost the ballgame and the ballpark and the home-team. Now, if I was being “gratuitously prurient,” he wouldn’t be wearing a slip, he’d be up there jay bird.

TYE: I will be up here stark naked opening night, no, Monday, at the first preview.

PLAYWRIGHT: In all but a few cases the public exposure of genitalia is gratuitously unattractive.

TYE: Since I respect honesty in a performance, I don’t intend to compromise with this flesh-colored cache-sexe before an audience.

PLAYWRIGHT: I reckon we better add Sunday matinees then. [He rises.] May I be excused to wash my hands while this matter of “gratuitous prurience” is being thrashed out amongst you? [Exits somewhat unevenly up aisle.]

TYE: Arrogant old mother.

DIRECTOR: Yes, quite. [He crosses to the foot of the scaffold to state.] Mr. Tysdale, of course you are playing the boy in the play, but you are not personally the boy and since the author’s still living—

PLAYWRIGHT [from the aisle]: Thanks.

DIRECTOR: I’m afraid that until the line is deleted by the author, it will have to be delivered by the actor.

PLAYWRIGHT [at the back of the house]: Hear, hear.

DIRECTOR: Regardless of our mutual distaste. [Then in a loud whisper.] Of course you might forget it opening night.

TYE: Right

JANE: Which cuts my—

DIRECTOR: We can’t continue a script conference at this late moment so I suggest we—press on.

TYE [resuming his position on the cot]: Cue me, please.

JANE: Get up.

TYE: —Can’t you see I’m up?

JANE: I don’t mean that kind of up, and don’t bring strip-show lewdness in here this—late Sunday afternoon.

TYE [again out of the play]: Do you see what I mean, it’s right at the top of the play, a bit that creates a skin-flick atmosphere.

DIRECTOR: I see, I know. Perhaps to take the curse off it we can synchronize this bit with a blue bird fluttering in through the gallery shutters, heh, heh.

[The playwright comes out of the Gent’s stuffing a half pint in his pocket.]

DIRECTOR: Sorry, light, sound, continue.

[Tye assumes the attitude of Rodin’s “Thinker” a moment to get back into the part. The director waits respectfully as the “effects” come back on.]

TYE: Cue, Jane.

[Distant piano—blues fade in.]

JANE: No strip-show lewdness in here this—late Sunday afternoon.

TYE [suddenly grave]: Babe, don’t mention the show to me t’day.

JANE: I’d like to remind you that when we first stumbled into this—crazy—co-habitation, you promised me you’d quit the show in a week.

TYE: For what? Tight as work is for a dude with five grades of school and no skill training from the Mississippi sticks?