It is early the following morning. There is a confusion of street cries like a choral chant. Stella is lying down in the bedroom. Her face is serene in the early morning sunlight. One hand rests on her belly, rounding slightly with new maternity. From the other dangles a book of colored comics. Her eyes and lips have that almost narcotized tranquility that is the faces of Eastern idols. The table is sloppy with remains of breakfast and the debris of the preceding night, and Stanley's gaudy pyjamas lie across the threshold of the bathroom. The outside door is slightly ajar on a sky of summer brilliance. Blanche appears at this door. She has spent a sleepless night and her appearance entirely contrasts with Stella’s. She presses her knuckles nervously to her lips as she looks through the door, before entering.
BLANCHE:
Stella?
STELLA [stirring lazily]'. Hmmh?
[Blanche utters a moaning cry and runs into the bedroom, throwing herself down beside Stella in a rush of hysterical tenderness.]
BLANCHE:
Baby, my baby sister!
STELLA [drawing away from her]:
Blanche, what is the matter with you?
[Blanche straightens up slowly and stands beside the bed looking down at her sister with knuckles pressed to her lips.]
BLANCHE:
He's left?
STELLA:
Stan? Yes.
BLANCHE:
Will he be back?
STELLA:
He’s gone to get the car greased. Why?
BLANCHE:
Why! I've been half crazy, Stella! When I found out you'd been insane enough to come back in here after what happened--I started to rush in after you!
STELLA:
I'm glad you didn't.
BLANCHE:
What were you thinking of?
[Stella makes an indefinite gesture]
Answer me! What? What?
STELLA:
Please, Blanche! Sit down and stop yelling.
BLANCHE:
All right, Stella. I will repeat the question quietly now. How could you come back in this place last night? Why, you must have slept with him!
[Stella gets up in a calm and leisurely way.]
STELLA:
Blanche, I'd forgotten how excitable you are. You're making much too much fuss about this.
BLANCHE:
Am I?
STELLA:
Yes, you are, Blanche. I know how it must have seemed to you and I'm awful sorry it had to happen, but it wasn’t anything as serious as you seem to take it. In the first place, when men are drinking and playing poker anything can happen. It’s always a powder-keg. He
didn't know what he was doing.... He was as good as a lamb when I came back and he’s really very, very ashamed of himself.
BLANCHE:
And that--that makes it all right?
STELLA:
No, it isn't all right for anybody to make such a terrible row, but--people do sometimes. Stanley's always smashed things. Why, on our wedding night--soon as we came in here--he snatched off one of my slippers and rushed about the place amashing the light bulbs with it.
BLANCHE:
He did--what?
STELLA:
He smashed all the light bulbs with the heel of my slipper!
[She laughs.]
BLANCHE:
And you--you let him? Didn't run, didn’t scream?
STELLA:
I was--sort of--thrilled by it.
[She waits for a moment.]
Eunice and you had breakfast'
BLANCHE:
Do you suppose I wanted my breakfast?
STELLA:
There's some coffee left on the stove.
BLANCHE:
You're so--matter of fact about it, Stella.
STELLA:
What other can I be? He's taken the radio to get it fixed. It didn't land on the pavement so only one tube was smashed.
BLANCHE:
And you are standing there smiling!
STELLA:
What do you want me to do?
BLANCHE:
Pull yourself together and face the facts.
STELLA:
What are they, in your opinion?
BLANCHE:
In my opinion? You're married to a madman!
STELLA:
No!
BLANCHE:
Yes, you are, your fix is worse than mine is! Only you're not being sensible about it. I'm going to do something. Get hold of myself and make myself a new life!
STELLA:
Yes?
BLANCHE:
But you've given in. And that isn't right, you're not old! You can get out.
STELLA [slowly and emphatically]:
I'm not in anything I want to get out of.
BLANCHE [incredulously]:
What--Stella?
STELLA:
I said I am not in anything that I have a desire to get out of. Look at the mess in this room! And those empty bottles! They went through two cases last night! He promised this morning that he was going to quit having these poker parties, but you know how long such a promise is going to keep. Oh, well, it's his pleasure, like mine is movies and bridge. People have got to tolerate each other's habits, I guess.
BLANCHE:
I don't understand you.
[Stella turns toward her]
I don't understand your indifference. Is this a Chinese philosophy you've--cultivated?
STELLA:
Is what--what?
BLANCHE:
This--shuffling about and mumbling--"One tube smashed--beer bottles--mess in the kitchen."--as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened!
[Stella laughs uncertainly and picking up the broom, twirls it in her hands.]
BLANCHE:
Are you deliberately shaking that thing in my face?
STELLA:
No.
BLANCHE:
Stop it. Let go of that broom. I won't have you cleaning up for him!
STELLA:
Then who's going to do it? Are you?
BLANCHE:
I? I!
STELLA:
No, I didn't think so.
BLANCHE:
Oh, let me think, if only my mind would function! We've got to get hold of some money, that's the way out!
STELLA:
I guess that money is always nice to get hold of.
BLANCHE:
Listen to me. I have an idea of some kind.
[Shakily she twists a cigarette into her holder]
Do you remember Shep Huntleigh?
[Stella shakes her head.]
Of course you remember Shep Huntleigh. I went out with him at college and wore his pin for a while. Well--
STELLA.:
Well?
BLANCHE:
I ran into him last winter. You know I went to Miami during the Christmas holidays?
STELLA:
No.
BLANCHE:
Well, I did. I took the trip as an investment, thinking I'd meet someone with a million dollars.
STELLA:
Did you?
BLANCHE:
Yes. I ran into Shep Huntleigh--I ran into him on Biscayne Boulevard, on Christmas Eve, about dusk... getting into his car--Cadillac convertible; must have been a block long!
STELLA:
I should think it would have been--inconvenient in trafflc!
BLANCHE:
You've heard of oil-wells?
STELLA:
Yes--remotely.
BLANCHE:
He has them, all over Texas. Texas is literally spouting gold in his pockets.
STELLA:
My, my.
BLANCHE:
Y'know how indifferent I am to money. I think of money in terms of what it does for you. But he could do it, he could certainly do it!
STELLA:
Do what, Blanche?
BLANCHE:
Why--set us up in a--shop!
STELLA:
What kind of a shop?
BLANCHE:
Oh, a--shop of some kind! He could do it with half what his wife throws away at the races.
STELLA:
He's married?
BLANCHE:
Honey, would I be here if the man weren't married?
[Stella laughs a little. Blanche suddenly springs up and crosses to phone. She speaks shrilly]
How do I get Western Union?--Operator! Western Union!
STELLA:
That's a dial phone, honey.
BLANCHE:
I can't dial, I'm too--
STELLA:
Just dial 0.
BLANCHE:
O?
STELLA:
Yes, "0" for Operator!
[Blanche considers a moment; then she puts the phone down.]
BLANCHE:
Give me a pencil. Where is a slip of paper? I've got to write it down first--the message, I mean...
[She goes to the dressing table, and grabs up a sheet of Kleenex and an eyebrow pencil for writing equipment.] Let me see now...
[She bites the pencil]
"Darling Shep. Sister and I in desperate situation."
STELLA:
I beg your pardon!
BLANCHE:
"Sister and I in desperate situation. Will explain details later. Would you be interested in--?"
[She bites the pencil again] "Would you be--interested--in..."
[She smashes the pencil on the table and springs up]
You never get anywhere with direct appeals!
STELLA [with a laugh]:
Don't be so ridiculous, darling!
BLANCHE:
But I'll think of something, I've got to think of--something! Don't, don't laugh at me, Stella! Please, please don't--I--I want you to look at the contents of my purse! Here's what's in it!
[She snatches her purse open]
Sixty-five measly cents in coin of the realm!
STELLA [crossing to bureau]:
Stanley doesn't give me a regular allowance, he likes to pay bills himself, but--this morning he gave me ten dollars to smooth things over. You take five of it, Blanche, and I'll keep the rest
BLANCHE:
Oh, no. No, Stella.
STELLA [insisting]:
I know how it helps your morale just having a little pocket-money on you.
BLANCHE:
No, thank you--I'll take to the streets!
STELLA:
Talk sense! How did you happen to get so low on funds?
BLANCHE:
Money just goes--it goes places.
[She rubs her forehead]
Sometime today I've got to get hold of a bromo!
STELLA:
I'll fix you one now.
BLANCHE:
Not yet--I've got to keep thinking!
STELLA:
I wish you'd just let things go, at least for a--while....
BLANCHE:
Stella, I can't live with him! You can, he's your husband. But how could I stay here with him, after last night, with, just those curtains between us?
STELLA:
Blanche, you saw him at his worst last night
BLANCHE:
On the contrary, I saw him at his best! What such a man has to offer is animal force and he gave a wonderful exhibition of that! But the only way to live with such a man is to--go to bed with him! And that's your job--not mine!
STELLA:
After you've rested a little, you'll see it's going to work out. You don't have to worry about anything while you're here. I mean--expenses...
BLANCHE:
I have to plan for us both, to get us both--out!
STELLA:
You take it for granted that I am in something that I want to get out of.
BLANCHE:
I take it for granted that you still have sufficient memory of Belle Reve to find this place and these poker players impossible to live with.
STELLA:
Well, you're taking entirely too much for granted.
BLANCHE:
I can't believe you're in earnest
STELLA:
No?
BLANCHE:
I understand how it happened--a little. You saw him in uniform, an officer, not here but--
STELLA:
I'm not sure it would have made any difference where I saw him.
BLANCHE:
Now don't say it was one of those mysterious electric things between people! If you do I'll laugh in your face.
STELLA:
I am not going to say anything more at all about it!
BLANCHE:
All right, then, don't!
STELLA:
But there are things that happen between a man and a woman in the dark--that sort of make everything else seem--unimportant
[Pause.]
BLANCHE:
What you are talking about is brutal desire--just--Desire!--the name of that rattle-trap streetcar that bangs through the Quarter, up one old narrow street and down another....
STELLA:
Haven't you ever ridden on that streetcar?
BLANCHE:
It brought me here.--Where I'm not wanted and where I'm ashamed to be....
STELLA:
Then don't you think your superior attitude is a bit out of place?
BLANCHE:
I am not being or feeling at all superior, Stella. Believe me I'm not! It's just this. This is how I look at it. A man like that is someone to go out with--once--twice--three times when the devil is in you. But live with? Have a child by?
STELLA:
I have told you I love him.
BLANCHE:
Then I tremble for you! I just--tremble for you....
STELLA:
I can't help your trembling if you insist on trembling!
[There is a pause.]
BLANCHE:
May I--speak--plainly?
STELLA:
Yes, do. Go ahead. As plainly as you want to.
[Outside, a train approaches. They are silent till the noise subsides. They are both in the bedroom.
[Under cover of the train's noise Stanley enters from outside. He stands unseen by the women, holding some packages in his arms, and overhears their following conversation. He wears an undershirt and grease-stained seersucker pants.]
BLANCHE:
Well--if you'll forgive me--he's common!
STELLA:
Why, yes, I suppose he is.
BLANCHE:
Suppose! You can't have forgotten that much of our bringing up, Stella, that you just suppose that any part of a gentleman's in his nature! Not one particle, no! Oh, if he was just--ordinary! Just plain--but good and wholesome, but--no. There's something downright--bestial--about him! You're hating me saying this, aren't you?
STELLA [coldly]:
Go on and say it all, Blanche.
BLANCHE:
He acts like an animal, has an animal's habits! Eats like one, moves like one, talks like one! There's even something--sub-human--something not quite to the stage of humanity yet! Yes, something--ape-like about him, like one of those pictures I've seen in--anthropological studies! Thousands and thousands of years have passed him right by, and there he is--Stanley Kowalski-survivor of the stone age! Bearing the raw meat home from the kill in the jungle! And you--you here--waiting for him! Maybe he'll strike you or maybe grunt and kiss you! That is, if kisses have been discovered yet! Night falls and the other apes gather! There in the front of the cave, all grunting like him, and swilling and gnawing and hulking! His poker night!--you call it--this party of apes! Somebody growls--some creature snatches at something--the fight is on! God! Maybe we are a long way from being made in God's image, but Stella--my sister--there has been some progress since then! Such things as art--as poetry and music--such kinds of new light have come into the world since then! In some kinds of people some tenderer feelings have had some
little beginning! That we have got to make grow! And cling to, and hold as our flag! In this dark march toward whatever it is we're approaching.... Don't--don't hang back with the brutes!
[Another train passes outside. Stanley hesitates, licking his lips. Then suddenly he turns stealthily about and withdraws through front door. The women are still unaware of his presence. When the train has passed he calls through the closed front door.]
STANLEY:
Hey! Hey, Stella!
STELLA [who has listened gravely to Blanche]:
Stanley!
BLANCHE:
Stell, I
[But Stella has gone to the front door. Stanley enters casually with his packages.]
STANLEY:
Hiyuh, Stella. Blanche back?
STELLA:
Yes, she's back.
STANLEY:
Hiyuh, Blanche.
[He grins at her.]
STELLA:
You must've got under the car.
STANLEY:
Them dam mechanics at Fritz's don't know their ass fr'm--Hey!
[Stella has embraced him--with both arms, fiercely, and full in the view of Blanche. He laughs and clasps her head to him. Over her head he grins through the curtains at Blanche.]
[As the lights fade away, with a lingering brightness on their embrace, the music of the "blue piano" and trumpet and drums is heard.]