Three Plays Read Online Free

observation as she goes to raise the bamboo blinds, since the sunset glare has diminished. In crossing she winks at Brick.]
     
    MARGARET [sweetly] : Dixie, Trixie, Buster, Sonny, Polly!—Sounds like four dogs and a parrot—animal act in a circus!
     
    MAE : Maggie?
    [Margaret turns with a smile.]
    Why are you so catty?
     
    MARGARET : 'Cause I'm a cat! But why can't you take a joke, Sister Woman?
     
    MAE : Nothin' pleases me more than a joke that's funny. You know the real names of our kiddies. Buster's real name is Robert. Sonny's real name is Saunders. Trixie's real name is Marlene and Dixie's—
    [Someone downstairs calls for her. 'Hey, Mae!'—She rushes to door, saying:]
    Intermission is over!
     
    MARGARET [as Mae closes door] : I wonder what Dixie's real name is?
     
    BRICK : Maggie, being catty doesn't help things any....
     
    MARGARET : I know! WHY! —am I so catty?—'Cause I'm consumed with envy an' eaten up with longing?—Brick, I've laid out your beautiful Shantung silk suit from Rome and one of your monogrammed silk shirts. I'll put your cuff-links in it, those lovely star sapphires I get you to wear so rarely....
     
    BRICK : I can't get trousers on over this plaster cast.
     
    MARGARET : Yes, you can, I'll help you.
     
    BRICK : I'm not going to get dressed, Maggie.
     
    MARGARET : Will you just put on a pair of white silk pyjamas?
     
    BRICK : Yes, I'll do that, Maggie.
     
    MARGARET : Thank you , thank you so much.
     
    BRICK : Don't mention it.
     
    MARGARET : Oh, Brick! How long does it have t' go on? This punishment? Haven't I done time enough, haven't I served my term, can't I apply for a—pardon?
     
    BRICK : Maggie, you're spoiling my liquor. Lately your voice always sounds like you'd been running upstairs to warn somebody that the house was on fire!
     
    MARGARET : Well, no wonder, no wonder. Y'know what I feel like, Brick?
    [Children's and grownups' voices are blended, below, in a loud but uncertain rendition of 'My Wild Irish Rose'.]
    I feel all the time like a cat on a hot tin roof.
     
    BRICK : Then jump off the roof, jump off it, cats can jump off roofs and land on their four feet uninjured!
     
    MARGARET : Oh, yes!
     
    BRICK : Do it!—fo' God's sake, do it...
     
    MARGARET : Do what?
     
    BRICK : Take a lover!
     
    MARGARET : I can't see a man but you! Even with my eyes closed, I just see you! Why don't you get ugly, Brick, why don't you please get fat or ugly or something so I could stand it?
    [She rushes to hall door, opens it, listens.]
    The concert is still going on! Bravo, no-necks, bravo!
    [She slams and locks door fiercely.]
     
    BRICK : What did you lock the door for?
     
    MARGARET : To give us a little privacy for a while.
     
    BRICK : You know better, Maggie.
     
    MARGARET : No, I don't know better....
     
    [She rushes to gallery doors, draws the rose-silk drapes across them.]
     
    BRICK : Don't make a fool of yourself.
     
    MARGARET : I don't mind makin' a fool of myself over you!
     
    BRICK : I mind, Maggie. I feel embarrassed for you.
     
    MARGARET : Feel embarrassed! But don't continue my torture. I can't live on and on under these circumstances.
     
    BRICK : You agreed to—
     
    MARGARET : I know but—
     
    BRICK : — accept that condition!
     
    MARGARET : I CAN'T! CAN'T! CAN'T!
     
    [She seizes his shoulder.]
     
    BRICK : Let go!
     
    [He breaks away from her and seizes the small boudoir chair and raises it like a lion-tamer facing a big circus cat. | Count five. She stares at him with her fist pressed to her mouth, then bursts into shrill, almost hysterical laughter. | He remains grave for a moment, then grins and puts the chair down. Big Mama calls through closed door:]
     
    BIG MAMA : Son? Son? Son?
     
    BRICK : What is it, Big Mama?
     
    BIG MAMA [outside] : Oh, son! We got the most wonderful news about Big Daddy. I just had t' run up an' tell you right this—
    [She rattles the knob.]
    — What's this door doin', locked, faw? You all think there's robbers in the