PLAYER: No-

ROS: I mean, I've heard of-but I've never actually

PLAYER: No.

ROS: I mean, what exactly do you do?

PLAYER: We keep to our usual stuff, more or less, only inside out. We do on stage the things that are supposed to happen off. Which is a kind of integrity, if you look on every exit being an entrance somewhere else.

ROS (nervy, loud) : Well, I'm not really the type of man who-no, but don't hurry off-sit down and tell us about some of the things people ask you to do.

The PLAYER turns away.

PLAYER: On-ward!

ROS: Just a minute! They turn and look at him without expression. Well, all right-I wouldn't mind seeing-just an idea of the kind of- (Bravely.) What will you do for that? (And tosses a single coin on the ground between them.)

The PLAYER spits at the coin, from where he stands. The TRAGEDIANSdemur, trying to get at the coin. He kicks and cuffs them back.

On!

ALFRED is still half in and out of his robe. The PLAYERcuffs him.

(TO ALFRED :) What are you playing at? 

ROS is shamed into fury.

ROS: Filth! Disgusting-I'll report you to the authorities-perverts! I know your game all right, it's all filth!

The PLAYERS are about to leave. GUIL has remained detached.

GUIL (casually) : Do you like a bet?

The TRAGEDIANS turn and look interested. The PLAYER comes forward.

PLAYER: What kind of bet did you have in mind?

GUIL walks half the distance towards the PLAYER , Stomps his boot over the coin.

GUIL: Double or quits.

PLAYER: Well… heads.

GUIL raises his foot. The PLAYER bends. The TRAGEDIAN crowd round. Relief and congratulations. The PLAYER picks up the coin. GUIL throws him a second coin.

GUIL: Again?

Some of the TRAGEDIANS are for it, others against.

GUIL: Evens.

The PLAYER nods and tosses the coin.

GUIL: Heads.

It is. He picks it up. Again. GUIL spins coin.

PLAYER: Heads.

It is. PLAYER picks up coin. He has two coins again. He spins one.

GUIL: Heads.

It is. GUIL picks it up. Then tosses it immediately.

PLAYER (fractional hesitation) : Tails.

But it's heads. GUIL picks it up. PLAYER tosses down his last coin by way of paying up, and turns away. GUIL doesn't pick it up; he puts his foot on it.

GUIL: Heads.

PLAYER: No!

Pause. The TRAGEDIANSare against this.

(Apologetically.) They don't like the odds.

GUIL (lifts his foot, squats, picks up the coin still squatting, looks up) : You were right-heads. (Spins it, slaps his hand on it, on the floor.) Heads I win.

PLAYER: No.

GUIL (uncovers coin) : Right again. (Repeat.) Heads I win.

PLAYER: No.

GUIL (uncovers coin) : And right again. (Repeat.) Heads I win.

PLAYER: No!

He turns away, the TRAGEDIANS with him. comes close. GUIL stands up,

GUIL: Would you believe it? (Stands back, relaxes smiles.) Bet me the year of my birth doubled is an odd number.

PLAYER: Your birth-!

GUIL: If you don't trust me don't bet with me.

PLAYER: Would you trust me?

GUIL: Bet me then.

PLAYER: My birth?

GUIL: Odd numbers you win.

PLAYER: You're on!

The TRAGEDIANS have come forward, wide awake.

GUIL: Good. Year of your birth. Double it. Even numbers I win, odd numbers I lose. Silence.

An awful sigh as the TRAGEDIANS realize that any number doubled is even. Then a terrible row as they object. Then a terrible silence.

PLAYER: We have no money. GUIL turns to him.

GUIL: Ah. Then what have you got?

The PLAYER silently brings ALFRED forward. GUIL regards ALFREDsadly.

Was it for this?

PLAYER: It's the best we've got.

GUIL (looking up and around) : Then the times are bad indeed.

The PLAYER starts to speak, protestation, but GUILturns on him viciously.

The very air stinks.

The PLAYER moves back. GUILmoves down to the footlights and turns.

Come here, Alfred.

ALFREDmoves down and stands, frightened and small.

(Gently.) Do you lose often?

ALFRED: Yes, Sir.

GUIL: Then what could you have left to lose?

ALFRED: Nothing, sir.

Pause. GUIL regards him.

GUIL: Do you like being… an actor?

ALFRED: No, sir.

GUIL looks around, at the audience.

GUIL: You and I, Alfred-we could create a dramatic precedent here.

And ALFRED, who has been near tears, starts to sniffle.

Come, come, Alfred, this is no way to fill the theatres of Europe.

The PLAYER has moved down, GUILcuts him oft again.

(Viciously.) Do you know any good plays?

to remonstrate with ALFRED .

PLAYER: Plays?

ROS (Coming forward, faltering Shyly) : Exhibitions…

GUIL: I thought you said you were actors.

PLAYER (dawning) : Oh. Oh well, we are. We are. But there hasn't been much call

GUIL: You lost. Well then – one of the Greeks, perhaps? You're familiar with the tragedies of antiquity, are you? The great homicidal classics? Matri, patri, fratri, sorrori, uxori and it goes without saying

ROS: Saucy– –Suicidal-hm? Maidens aspiring to godheads

ROS: And vice versa

GUIL: Your kind of thing, is it?

PLAYER: Well, no, I can't say it is, really. We're more of the blood, love and rhetoric school.

GUIL: Well, I'll leave the choice to you, if there is anything to choose between them.

PLAYER: They're hardly divisible, sir-well, I can do you blood and love without the rhetoric, and I can do you blood and rhetoric without the love, and I can do you all three concurrent or consecutive, but I can't do you love and rhetoric without the blood. Blood is compulsory-they' all blood, you see.

GUIL: Is that what people want?

PLAYER: It's what we do. (Small pause. He turns away.)

GUIL touches ALFRED On the shoulder.

GUIL: (wry, gentle) : Thank you; we'll let you know.

The PLAYER has moved upstage. ALFRED follows.

PLAYER (to TRAGEDIANS) : Thirty-eight!

ROS (moving across, fascinated and hopeful) : Position?

PLAYER: Sir?

ROS: One of your– tableaux?

PLAYER: No, sir.

ROS: Oh.

PLAYER (to the TRAGEDIANS now departing with their cart, air taking various props off it) : Entrances there and there (indicating upstage) .

The PLAYER has not moved his position for his last four lines. He does not move now. GUIL waits.

GUIL: Well… aren't you going to change into your costume?

PLAYER: I never change out of it, sir.

GUIL: Always in character.

PLAYER: That's it.

Pause.

GUIL: Aren't you going to-come on?

PLAYER: I am on.

GUIL: But if you are on, you Can't Come On. Can you?

PLAYER: I start on.

GUIL: But it hasn't started. Go on. Well look out for you.

PLAYER: I'll give you a wave.

He does not move. His immobility is now pointed, and getting awkward. Pause. ROS walks tip to him till they are face to face.

ROS: Excuse me.

Pause. The PLAYER lifts his downstage foot. It was covering GUIL 'S Coin. ROSputs his foot on the coin. Smiles.

Thank you.

The PLAYER turns and goes. ROS has bent for the coin.

GUIL (Moving out) : Come On.