Mr. Burns and Other Plays. Anne Washburn

them an astonishment

       Quoting God directly:

       Behold I am against thee

       Oh thou most proud

       for thy day is come

       the time that I will visit thee.

       And the most proud shall stumble

       and fall

       and none shall raise him up

       and I will kindle a fire in his cities

       and it shall devour all ’round about him.

       He subsides. Pause.

       Oh, and also: you will be delivered

       unto the King of Babylon. Thine eyes

       will behold his eyes, veryupclose

       they will be unblinking. And he’s going to

       speak to thee, his mouth, just this far from

       your mouth, veryupclose. And thou shalt go

       to Babylon.

       Rather vacant and faint:

       (and you will say:

       the King of Babylon

       hath devoured me

       he hath crushed me

       he hath made me an empty vessel

       he hath swallowed me up like a dragon

       he hath filled his belly with my delicates

       he hath cast me out)

       Very very long pause.

      KING ZEDEKIAH:

       Let no one know these words

       and you will not die.

       Jeremiah is bundled from the throne room and abandoned under an awning. Sounds of cars passing by on wet pavement.

       He stands there, dazed.

      CHAPTER 10

       He puts out his hand, withdraws it from the rain.

       The Non-Prophet arrives. He is under an enormous gorgeous black umbrella.

      THE NON-PROPHET: Can’t I buy you a wonderful meal?

       He holds out the umbrella.

       I know a place.

       They umbrella off together.

      CHAPTER 11

       Emily’s hair is a different cut or color.

      EMILY: You can’t fuck this up, all right? It isn’t a game. Who am I.

      RUTHIE: Who are you?

      EMILY: Yes. Who am I.

       Just answer the question.

       A bit of a beat.

      RUTHIE: All right. You’re Emily Owens

      EMILY: Wrong.

      RUTHIE: You’re Emily Russell Owens.

      EMILY: Wrong.

      RUTHIE: I give up.

      EMILY: You give up really easily.

      RUTHIE: Jesus Christ.

      EMILY: Who am I.

      RUTHIE: I. Don’t. Know.

      EMILY: Monica Alicia Perry.

      RUTHIE: Okay. Great. Since when.

      EMILY: Since this afternoon. My birth certificate came in the mail. Who am I?

      RUTHIE: Monica something.

      EMILY: You think I’m an asshole.

      RUTHIE: You are an asshole.

      EMILY: You’re going to be the asshole. When you fuck it up. “Monica Perry great I’ll remember that great.” And we’re in line at the movie theater and you say, “Emily, shall we get extra butter?” and the guy six ahead of us in line turns around, reflexively. You think the pigs don’t go to the movies too?

      RUTHIE: All right.

      EMILY: If I go to prison can you take my place? Do you know how to load a gun and reload it in under ten seconds? Do you have the stamina to sleep in a different bed or on a different couch every night? I mean every night. Night after night. It’s harder than you’d think. Do you have the willpower, and the focus, to walk into a public building with a live explosive taped to your chest, walk calmly to the ladies’ room on the second floor, wash your hands, and walk out again all of this time with a live explosive taped to your chest all the time knowing that Louis who assembled it, and strapped it on you, is a genius semiotician and social analyst but he’s been up three nights straight and forgets to eat and that when he wired it together this morning his hand was shaking but today is the day to test security procedures, and if it doesn’t happen today the plan is out of whack, and if the plan is out of whack the safety, and, much more importantly, the ideology, the vision, the goal of fourteen people is seriously compromised.

      RUTHIE: No I can’t. I don’t.

       Bit of a pause.

      EMILY: I know.

      RUTHIE: But I wish that I could.

      EMILY (Gently): I know. Who am I?

      RUTHIE: You’re . . . . . . . . . fuck!

       I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.

      EMILY: Who am I?

      RUTHIE (Struggles for a moment, gets it): Monica. Monica . . .

      EMILY (Very rapidly): Alicia Perry. Who am I?

      RUTHIE: Monica Alicia Terry. Perry. Monica Alicia Perry.

      EMILY: Who am I?

      RUTHIE: You’re Monica Alicia Perry.

      EMILY: Someone says to you: who is that?

      RUTHIE: Monica Alicia Perry.

      EMILY: I am:

      RUTHIE: Monica Alicia Perry.

      EMILY: Good. Now I have a question for you. Do you remember who I am?

      RUTHIE: Monica Alicia Perry.

      EMILY: No. I know. But I need to know. That is who I am. But do you remember who I am?

       Beat.

      RUTHIE: You’re / Monic—

      EMILY: No. That’s who I am.

      RUTHIE: I love you. You’re wearing me out.

      EMILY: I need you to know who I am—but I also need you to remember who I am. Not. Any longer.

       Bit of a beat.

      RUTHIE: Oh.

       / You’re—

      EMILY: But don’t say it.

      RUTHIE:

      EMILY: Think it, okay? Tell me who I am with your mouth. Remember who I am with your eyes.

      RUTHIE: Simultaneously?

      EMILY: It’s tricky, right?

      RUTHIE (Bit of a pause, gathering it together): Okay.

      EMILY: Who am I?

      RUTHIE (Slowly, looking her in the eye): Monica (Barely whispered: Emily) . . . Alicia (Barely whispered: Russell) . . . Perry. (Barely whispered: Owens)

      EMILY (Softly): Who am I?

      RUTHIE: You are: