Nick Number 3, Pacific Street, you cad.

Dudley Cad? You don’t know how I’ve been suffering on account of Elsie. I take things too ceremoniously. I’ve got to be more lackadaisical. (Into telephone.) Hello, Elenore? I mean, Lorene. It’s Number 3 Pacific Street. Yeah. Sure. I’ll wait for you. How’ll you know me? You’ll know me. I’ll recognise you. Goodbye, now. (He hangs up.)

Harry (continuing his monologue, with gestures, movements, and so on) I’m standing there. I didn’t do anything to anybody. Why should I be a soldier? (Sincerely, insanely.) BOOOOOOOM. WAR! OK. War. I retreat. I hate war. I move to Sacramento.

Nick (shouting) All right, Comedian. Lay off a minute.

Harry (broken-hearted, going to Willie) Nobody’s got a sense of humour any more. The world’s dying for comedy like never before, but nobody knows how to laugh.

Nick (to Wesley) Do you belong to the union?

Wesley What union?

Nick For the love of Mike, where’ve you been? Don’t you know you can’t come into a place and ask for a job and get one and go to work, just like that. You’ve got to belong to one of the unions.

Wesley I didn’t know. I got to have a job. Real soon.

Nick Well, you’ve got to belong to a union.

Wesley I don’t want any favours. All I want is a chance to earn a living.

Nick Go on into the kitchen and tell Sam to give you some lunch.

Wesley Honest, I ain’t hungry.

Dudley (shouting) What I’ve gone through for Elsie.

Harry I’ve got all kinds of funny ideas in my head to help make the world happy again.

Nick (holding Wesley) No, he isn’t hungry.

Wesley almost faints from hunger. Nick catches him just in time. The Arab and Nick go off with Wesley into the kitchen.

Harry (to Willie) See if you think this is funny. It’s my own idea. I created this dance myself. It comes after the monologue.

Harry begins to dance. Willie watches a moment, and then goes back to the game. It’s a goofy dance, which Harry does with great sorrow, but much energy.

Dudley Elsie. Aw, gee, Elsie. What the hell do I want to see Lorene Smith for? Some girl I don’t know.

Joe and Kitty have been drinking in silence. There is no sound now except the soft-shoe shuffling of Harry, the comedian.

Joe What’s the dream now, Kitty Duval?

Kitty (dreaming the words and pictures) I dream of home. Christ, I always dream of home. I’ve no home. I’ve no place. But I always dream of all of us together again. We had a farm in Ohio. There was nothing good about it. It was always sad. There was always trouble. But I always dream about it as if I could go back and Papa would be there and Mamma and Louie and my little brother Stephen and my sister Mary. I’m Polish. Duval! My name isn’t Duval, it’s Koranovsky. Katerina Koranovsky. We lost everything. The house, the farm, the trees, the horses, the cows, the chickens. Papa died. He was old. He was thirteen years older than Mamma. We moved to Chicago. We tried to work. We tried to stay together. Louie got in trouble. The fellow he was with killed him for something. I don’t know what. Stephen ran away from home. Seventeen years old. I don’t know where he is. Then Mamma died. (Pause.) What’s the dream? I dream of home.