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—
(Indicates CAROLINE.)
— whose father everyone knows full well wasn’t you, but the Fuller Brush man on this route twenty years ago, which possibly explains her hair — but no one will actually come out and say it!
    REGINALD.
(Fumes a few moments in silence, then explodes.)
And what’s the matter with all that?!
    (Zap sound. Blackout. Lights come up on
RICHARD III,
as before.)
    GLOUCESTER. And if King Edward be as true and just
    As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,
    This day should Clarence closely be mew’d up,
    About a prophecy, which says that —
    (Zap sound. Blackout. Lights come up on the
RUSSIAN PLAY.
GLOUCESTER
remains onstage, looking daggers at the audience, and finally stalks off through the Russian cast.
NIKOLAI
is introducing
IRINA
to his family:
OLGA,
his sickly aunt, and
PAVEL,
his wolfish layabout cousin, are standing. His great-grandfather
KONSTANTIN,
bent-backed and with a wild beard, is crossing the room with the help of a heavy staff when the lights come up.)
    NIKOLAI. My maternal great-grandfather, Konstantin Alekseyevich Volnikov.
    (Never pausing in his slow, staff-pounding trip across the room, wheezing
KONSTANTIN
glances briefly at
IRINA,
ignores her outstretched hands, mutters darkly, and exits.)
    NIKOLAI. In time, dear Irina, a deep understanding and affection will bloom between you two. I feel sure of it.
    PAVEL.
(To IRINA.)
You mustn’t take his behavior personally. The old man hates everyone — not just you.
    NIKOLAI. My first cousin, Pavel Sergeyevich Spivetsky.
    (
PAVEL
kisses
IRINA
’s hand, maintaining possession until she finally yanks it away.)
    IRINA. What could have brought about such an attitude in him?
    PAVEL. He thinks man is despicable and should therefore never have been created. And perhaps he has a point.
(He grins mischievously at IRINA.)
    IRINA. But then he himself would not have been born.
    PAVEL. Precisely. Which is why he’s been trying to kill himself for the past half century. And God, in his spite, won’t let him succeed. He is now, I believe, one hundred and thirty-seven.
    OLGA. Two failed poisonings. Seven botched hangings. The incident with the crossbow.
    (
OLGA
and
PAVEL
share a knowing look.)
    NIKOLAI. My paternal aunt, Olga Andreyevna Barkakovich.
    OLGA.
(She coughs into a handkerchief.)
Don’t worry about my coughing, dear. It’s just a case of —
(She coughs again into the handkerchief.)
— fatal consumption.
    NIKOLAI. Though may I point out that our pure country air has held back the disease for a full four decades.
    OLGA.
(To IRINA.)
Is he always so cheery?
    IRINA. I’m afraid so. It is a sickness of his.
    OLGA. Well, nevertheless, welcome, dear child. Though what you two can mean by moving here is more than I can fathom. Pavel stays here only to escape his gambling debts. I was disappointed in love and have vowed to live out my life in the isolation of the countryside. But you — have you any notion of the tedium, the mindless allegiance to tradition, the dust —
    NIKOLAI.
(Snatching the interested IRINA away.)
Come, my precious, let me introduce you to Marfa, the cook, who saw Napoleon himself pass by when she was a child and has many droll stories to tell of those fateful —
    (Zap sound. Blackout. Lights come up on the
COMEDY.
SAMMY
is prepping a nervous
IRV.
)
    IRV.
(He addresses an imaginary woman, holding out his hand.)
Hello, I’m Moe Silverman. Hi — Moe Silverman.
    SAMMY. Jesus, Irv. You could give yourself any name in the world, and you pick “Moe Silverman”?
    IRV. All right. Mel. Mel Silverman.
    SAMMY.
(He throws up his hands.)
Never mind. But while you’re picking, pick yourself a new career. You want to give her what she doesn’t have, and she’s already got a writer on her hands. And make it snappy — she’ll be here in an hour.
    IRV. I told you. I already got it figured out.
(Practicing.)
Actually, Audrey, I’m a philanthropist.
    SAMMY. Wow. Living in this dump?
    IRV.
(Practicing.)
Though I live modestly, I direct