The Mousetrap

Has Karl been buying books again, or is it only my fancy that there are more than usual? (He busies himself clearing the books from the sofa and putting them on the table RC)

LISApicks up the remainder of the wrapping paper, crosses to the wastepaper basket above the desk and drops the paper in it.

LISA. (moving toLof the sofa) I have forbidden him to buy more, Doctor. Already there is practically nowhere to sit down.

DOCTOR. You are quite right to read him the riot act, Lisa, but you won’t succeed. Karl would rather have a book for dinner than a piece of roast beef. How is Anya?

LISA. She has been very depressed and in bad spirits today. Yesterday she seemed a little better and more cheerful.

DOCTOR. (sitting on the sofa at the right end) Yes, yes, that’s the way it goes. (He sighs) Is Karl with her now?

LISA. Yes.

DOCTOR. He never fails her.

The barrel organ music ceases.

You realize, my dear, don’t you, that Karl is a very remarkable man? People feel it, you know, they’re influenced by him.

LISA. He makes his effect, yes.

DOCTOR. (sharply) Now, what do you mean by that, young woman?

LISA. (taking the book from under her arm) “There are no fields of amaranth this side of the grave.”

TheDOCTORtakes the book fromLISAand looks at the title.

DOCTOR. H’m. Walter Savage Landor. What’s your exact meaning, Lisa, in quoting him?

LISA. Just that you know and I know that there are no fields of amaranth this side of the grave. But Karl doesn’t know. For him the fields of amaranth are here and now, and that can be dangerous.

DOCTOR. Dangerous—to him?

LISA. Not only to him. Dangerous to others, to those who care for him, who depend on him. Men like Karl . . . (She breaks off)

DOCTOR. (after a pause) Yes?

Voices are heard off downR, and asLISAhears them she moves to the work-table upLand sets itRof the armchair.KARLenters downRpushingANYAHENDRYKin a wheelchair.ANYAis a woman of about thirty-eight, fretful and faded with a trace of former prettiness. On occasions her manner shows she has at one time been a coquettish and pretty young girl. Mostly she is a querulous and whining invalid.

KARL. (as he enters) I thought I heard your voice, Doctor.

DOCTOR. (rising) Good evening, Anya, you look very well this evening.

KARLpushes the wheelchair toCand sets itRof the work-table.

ANYA. I may look well, Doctor, but I don’t feel it. How can I feel well cooped up here all day?

DOCTOR. (Cheerfully) But you have that nice balcony outside your bedroom window. (He sits on the sofa) You can sit out there and get the air and the sunshine and see what’s going on all around you.

ANYA. As if there’s anything worth looking at going on round me. All these drab houses and all the drab people who live in them. Ah, when I think of our lovely little house and the garden and all our nice furniture—everything gone. It’s too much, Doctor, it’s too much to lose everything you have.

KARL. Come, Anya, you still have a fine upstanding husband.

LISAbrings the flowers from the tableRCand puts them on the work-table.

ANYA. Not such an upstanding husband as he was—(To LISA) is he?

LISAlaughs atANYA’s little joke and exits upC.

You stoop, Karl, and your hair is grey.

KARL. (sitting on the left arm of the sofa) That is a pity, but you must put up with me as I am.

ANYA. (miserably) I feel worse every day, Doctor. My back aches and I’ve got a twitching in this left arm. I don’t think that last medicine suits me.

DOCTOR. Then we must try something else.

ANYA. The drops are all right, the ones for my heart, but Lisa only gives me four at a time. She says that you said I mustn’t take more. But I think I’ve got used to them and it would be better if I took six or eight.