The Bald Soprano

MRS. SMITH: There, it’s nine o’clock. We’ve drunk the soup, and eaten the fish and chips, and the English salad. The children have drunk English water. We’ve eaten well this evening. That’s because we live in the suburbs of London and because our name is Smith.

MR. SMITH [still reading his paper]: Tsk, it says here that Bobby Watson died.

MRS. SMITH: My God, the poor man! When did he die?

MR. SMITH: Why do you pretend to be astonished? You know very well that he's been dead these past two years. Surely you remember that we attended his funeral a year and a half ago.

MRS. SMITH: Oh yes, of course I do remember. I remembered it right away, but I don't understand why you yourself were so surprised to see it in the paper.

MR. SMITH: It wasn't in the paper. It's been three years since his death was announced. I remembered it through an association of ideas.

It is his wife that I mean. She is called Bobby too, Bobby Watson. Since they both had the same name, you could never tell one from the other when you saw them together. It was only after his death that you could really tell which was which.

How bizarre, curious, strange! Then, madam, we live in the same room and we sleep in the same bed, dear lady. It is perhaps there that we have met!

MR. MARTIN: Don't you feel well? [Silence.]

MRS. SMITH: No, he's wet his pants. [Silence.]

MRS. MARTIN: Oh, sir, at your age, you shouldn't. [Silence.]

MR. SMITH: The heart is ageless. [Silence.]

MR. MARTIN: That's true. [Silence.] MRS. SMITH: So they say. [Silence.]

MRS. MARTIN: They also say the opposite [Silence.]

MR. SMITH: The truth lies somewhere between the two [Silence.]

MR. MARTIN: That’s true. [Silence]

MR. SMITH: As for me, when I go to visit someone, I ring in order to be admitted. I think that everyone does the same thing and that each time there is a ring there must be someone there.

MRS. SMITH: That is true in theory. But in reality things happen differently. You have just seen otherwise.

FIRE CHIEF: I am going to reconcile you. You both are partly right. When the doorbell rings, sometimes there is someone, other times there is no one.

MR. MARTIN: This seems logical to me.

MRS. MARTIN: I think so too.

FIRE CHIEF: Life is very simple, really.

MRS. SMITH: We don't have the time, here.

FIRE CHIEF: But the clock?

MR. SMITH: It runs badly. It is contradictory, and always indicates the opposite of what the hour really is.

MR. MARTIN: If that is the case...dear friends...these emotions are understandable, human, honorable...

MRS. MARTIN: All that is human is honorable.

MRS. SMITH: Even so, I don't like to see it... here among us...

MR. SMITH: She's not been properly brought up...

MRS. MARTIN: Bazaar, Balzac, bazooka!

MR. MARTIN: Bizarre, beaux-arts, brassieres!

MRS. SMITH: A,e,i,o,u, a,e,i,o,u, a,e,i,o,u, i!

MRS. MARTIN: B, c, d, f g, 1, m, n, p, r, s, t, v, w, x, z!

[The words cease abruptly. Again, the lights come on. Mr. and Mrs. Martin are seated like the Smiths at the beginning of the play. The play begins again with the Martins who say exactly the same lines as the Smiths in the first scene, while the curtain softly falls.]