Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes: Revised and Complete Edition by Tony Kushner Page B

: Take the D train. Next block make a right.
    HANNAH : Thank you.
    (Hannah hoists her suitcases and starts to leave.)
    HOMELESS WOMAN : Oh yeah.
          In the new century I think we will all be insane.
    Scene 5
    Same day. Joe and Roy in the living room of Roy’s brownstone. Joe has just come in and is still in his coat. Roy wears an elegant bathrobe .
    JOE : I can’t. The answer’s no. I’m sorry.
    ROY : Oh, well, apologies.
          I can’t see that there’s anyone asking for apologies.
    (Pause.)
    JOE : I’m sorry, Roy.
    ROY : Oh, well, apologies.
    JOE : My wife is missing, Roy. My mother’s coming from Salt Lake to . . . to help look, I guess. I’m supposed to be at the airport now, picking her up but . . . I just spent two days in a hospital, Roy, with a bleeding ulcer, I was spitting up blood.
    ROY : Blood, huh? Look, I’m very busy here and—
    JOE : It’s just a job.
    ROY : A job? A job ? Washington! Dumb Utah Mormon hick shit!
    JOE : Roy—
    ROY : WASHINGTON! When Washington called me I was younger than you, you think I said, “Aw fuck no I can’t go I got two fingers up my asshole and a little moral nosebleed to boot!” When Washington calls you my pretty young punk friend you go or you can go fuck yourself sideways ’cause the train has pulled out of the station, and you are out , nowhere, out in the cold. Fuck you, Mary Jane, get outta here.
    JOE : Just let me—
    ROY : Explain? Ephemera. You broke my heart. Explain that. Explain that.
    JOE : I love you. Roy.
          There’s so much that I want, to be . . . what you see in me, I want to be a participant in the world, in your world, Roy, I want to be capable of that, I’ve tried, really I have but . . . I can’t do this. Not because I don’t believe in you, but because I believe in you so much, in what you stand for, at heart, the order, the decency. I would give anything to protect you, but . . . There are laws I can’t break. It’s too ingrained. It’s not me. There’s enough damage I’ve already done.
          Maybe you were right, maybe I’m dead.
    ROY : You’re not dead, boy, you’re a sissy.
          You love me; that’s moving, I’m moved. It’s nice to be loved. I warned you about her, didn’t I, Joe? But you don’t listen to me, why, because you say Roy is smart and Roy’s a friend but Roy . . . well, he isn’t nice, and you wanna be nice. Right? A nice, nice man!
          (Little pause)
          You know what my greatest accomplishment was, Joe, in my life, what I am able to look back on and be proudest of? And I have helped make presidents and unmake them and mayors and more goddamn judges than anyone in NYC ever—AND several million dollars, tax-free—and what do you think means the most to me?
          You ever hear of Ethel Rosenberg? Huh, Joe, huh?
    JOE : Well, yeah, I guess I . . . Yes.
    ROY : Yes. Yes. You have heard of Ethel Rosenberg. Yes. Maybe you even read about her in the history books.
          If it wasn’t for me, Joe, Ethel Rosenberg would be alive today, writing some personal-advice column for Ms . magazine. She isn’t. Because during the trial, Joe, I was on the phone every day, talking with the judge—
    JOE : Roy—
    ROY : Every day, doing what I do best, talking on the telephone, making sure that timid Yid nebbish on the bench did his duty to America, to history. That sweet unprepossessing woman, two kids, boo-hoo-hoo, reminded us all of our little Jewish mamas—she came this close to getting life; I pleaded till I wept to put her in the chair. Me. I did that. I would have fucking pulled the switch if they’d have let me. Why? Because I fucking hate traitors. Because I fucking hate communists. Was it legal? Fuck legal. Am I a nice man? Fuck nice. They say terrible things about me in the Nation . Fuck the Nation . Youwant to be Nice, or you want to be Effective? Make the law, or subject to it. Choose. Your wife chose. A week from today, she’ll be back. SHE knows