buck again, boy!
BRICK:
How about these birthday congratulations, these many, many happy
returns of the day, when ev'rybody but you knows there won't be
any!
[ Whoever has answered the hall phone lets
out a high, shrill laugh; the voice becomes audible saying: “No, no, you
got it all wrong. ’Upside down.’ Are you crazy?"
[ Brick suddenly catches his breath as he
realized that he has made a shocking disclosure. He hobbles a few paces, then
freezes, and without looking at his father's shocked face,
says: ]
Let's, let's—go out, now, and—
[ Big Daddy moves suddenly forward and grabs
hold of the boy's crutch like it was a weapon for which they were
fighting for possession. ]
BIG DADDY:
Oh, no, no! No one's going out! What did you start to
say?
BRICK:
I don't remember.
BIG DADDY:
“Many happy returns when they know there won't be any"?
BRICK:
Aw, hell, Big Daddy, forget it. Come on out on the gallery and look at the fireworks
they're shooting off for your birthday . . . .
BIG DADDY:
First you finish that remark you were makin’ before you cut off. “Many
happy returns when they know there won't be any"?—Ain't
that what you just said?
BRICK:
Look, now. I can get around without that crutch if I have to but it would be a lot
easier on the furniture an’ glassware if I didn’ have to go swinging
along like Tarzan of th'—
BIG DADDY:
FINISH! WHAT YOU WAS SAYIN!
[ An eerie green glow shows in sky behind
him. ]
BRICK [ sucking
the ice in his glass, speech becoming thick ]:
Leave th’ place to Gooper and Mae an’ their five little same little
monkeys. All I want is—
BIG DADDY:
“LEAVE TH’ PLACE,” did you say?
BRICK [ vaguely ]:
All twenty-eight thousand acres of the richest land this side of the valley
Nile.
BIG DADDY:
Who said I was “leaving the place” to Gooper or anybody? This is
my sixty-fifth birthday! I got fifteen years or twenty years left in
me! I'll outlive you! I'll
bury you an’ have to pay for your coffin!
BRICK:
Sure. Many happy returns. Now let's go watch the fireworks, come on,
let's—
BIG DADDY:
Lying, have they been lying? About the report from
th'—clinic? Did they, did they—find something?—Cancer. Maybe?
BRICK ;
Mendacity is a system that we live in. Liquor is one way out an’
death's the other . . . .
[ He takes the crutch from Big Daddy's
loose grip and swings out on the gallery leaving the doors open.
[ A song, “Pick a Bale of
Cotton,’’ is heard. ]
MAE [ appearing in
door ]:
Oh, Big Daddy, the field hands are singin’ fo’
you!
BIG DADDY [ shouting hoarsely ]:
BRICK! BRICK!
MAE:
He's outside drinkin’, Big Daddy.
BIG DADDY:
BRICK!
[ Mae retreats, awed by the passion of his
voice. Children call Brick in tones mocking Big Daddy. His face crumbles like
broken yellow plaster about to fall into dust.
[ There is a glow in the sky. Brick swings
back through the doors, slowly, gravely, quite soberly. ]
BRICK:
I'm sorry, Big Daddy. My head don't work any more and it's hard
for me to understand how anybody could care if he lived or died or was dying or
cared about anything but whether or not there was liquor left in the bottle and so I
said what I said without thinking. In some ways I'm no better than the
others, in some ways worse because I'm less alive. Maybe it'sbeing alive that makes them lie, and being almost not alive makes me sort of accidentally truthful—I
don't know but—anyway— we've been friends . . .
—And being friends is telling each other the truth. . .
[ There is a pause. ]
You told me! I told you!
[ A child rushes into the room and grabs a
fistful of fire-crackers and runs out again. ]
CHILD [ screaming ]:
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
BIG DADDY [ slowly
and passionately ]:
CHRIST—DAMN—ALL—LYING SONS OF—LYING BITCHES!
[ He straightens at last and crosses to the
inside door. At the door he
BRICK:
How about these birthday congratulations, these many, many happy
returns of the day, when ev'rybody but you knows there won't be
any!
[ Whoever has answered the hall phone lets
out a high, shrill laugh; the voice becomes audible saying: “No, no, you
got it all wrong. ’Upside down.’ Are you crazy?"
[ Brick suddenly catches his breath as he
realized that he has made a shocking disclosure. He hobbles a few paces, then
freezes, and without looking at his father's shocked face,
says: ]
Let's, let's—go out, now, and—
[ Big Daddy moves suddenly forward and grabs
hold of the boy's crutch like it was a weapon for which they were
fighting for possession. ]
BIG DADDY:
Oh, no, no! No one's going out! What did you start to
say?
BRICK:
I don't remember.
BIG DADDY:
“Many happy returns when they know there won't be any"?
BRICK:
Aw, hell, Big Daddy, forget it. Come on out on the gallery and look at the fireworks
they're shooting off for your birthday . . . .
BIG DADDY:
First you finish that remark you were makin’ before you cut off. “Many
happy returns when they know there won't be any"?—Ain't
that what you just said?
BRICK:
Look, now. I can get around without that crutch if I have to but it would be a lot
easier on the furniture an’ glassware if I didn’ have to go swinging
along like Tarzan of th'—
BIG DADDY:
FINISH! WHAT YOU WAS SAYIN!
[ An eerie green glow shows in sky behind
him. ]
BRICK [ sucking
the ice in his glass, speech becoming thick ]:
Leave th’ place to Gooper and Mae an’ their five little same little
monkeys. All I want is—
BIG DADDY:
“LEAVE TH’ PLACE,” did you say?
BRICK [ vaguely ]:
All twenty-eight thousand acres of the richest land this side of the valley
Nile.
BIG DADDY:
Who said I was “leaving the place” to Gooper or anybody? This is
my sixty-fifth birthday! I got fifteen years or twenty years left in
me! I'll outlive you! I'll
bury you an’ have to pay for your coffin!
BRICK:
Sure. Many happy returns. Now let's go watch the fireworks, come on,
let's—
BIG DADDY:
Lying, have they been lying? About the report from
th'—clinic? Did they, did they—find something?—Cancer. Maybe?
BRICK ;
Mendacity is a system that we live in. Liquor is one way out an’
death's the other . . . .
[ He takes the crutch from Big Daddy's
loose grip and swings out on the gallery leaving the doors open.
[ A song, “Pick a Bale of
Cotton,’’ is heard. ]
MAE [ appearing in
door ]:
Oh, Big Daddy, the field hands are singin’ fo’
you!
BIG DADDY [ shouting hoarsely ]:
BRICK! BRICK!
MAE:
He's outside drinkin’, Big Daddy.
BIG DADDY:
BRICK!
[ Mae retreats, awed by the passion of his
voice. Children call Brick in tones mocking Big Daddy. His face crumbles like
broken yellow plaster about to fall into dust.
[ There is a glow in the sky. Brick swings
back through the doors, slowly, gravely, quite soberly. ]
BRICK:
I'm sorry, Big Daddy. My head don't work any more and it's hard
for me to understand how anybody could care if he lived or died or was dying or
cared about anything but whether or not there was liquor left in the bottle and so I
said what I said without thinking. In some ways I'm no better than the
others, in some ways worse because I'm less alive. Maybe it'sbeing alive that makes them lie, and being almost not alive makes me sort of accidentally truthful—I
don't know but—anyway— we've been friends . . .
—And being friends is telling each other the truth. . .
[ There is a pause. ]
You told me! I told you!
[ A child rushes into the room and grabs a
fistful of fire-crackers and runs out again. ]
CHILD [ screaming ]:
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
BIG DADDY [ slowly
and passionately ]:
CHRIST—DAMN—ALL—LYING SONS OF—LYING BITCHES!
[ He straightens at last and crosses to the
inside door. At the door he
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