THE SADNESS OF EINSTEIN

 

                                                                 by

 

                                                      Charles Deemer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                              3550 SW Pomona St.

                                                                                                              Portland, OR 97219-7518

                                                                                                              charles@charlesdeemer.com

                                                                                                              1-503-452-8277


 

 

 

THE SADNESS OF EINSTEIN

 

by Charles Deemer

 

THE CAST:

 

Robert Manfield, an amateur physicist, 20s

 

Henry Bruno, his companion, an amateur physicist, 20s

 

Leonora, a college student and prostitute, 20s

 

Oskar Gold, a businessman

 

Hermann, a businessman

 

Albert Einstein, the physicist (Oskar, Hermann and Einstein are played by the same actor)

 

THE TIME:

 

Autumn, 1927

 

THE PLACE:

 

Brussels, Belgium

 

THE SET:

 

A hotel room in Brussels. Entrance is stage left. A bed is stage right. Upstage, a window

looking down on the street. The bathroom is shared and located in the hall (exit stage left).

 

----

 

                                                                ACT ONE

 

 

1/

 

(AT RISE: ROBERT and LEONORA are in bed, making love, Leonora on top with her

back to the audience and a sheet around her. She frantically rides Robert below her.

HENRY is at the window, looking across the street with a pair of binoculars. Leonora's

sexual frenzy will increase to the orgasm indicated below.)

 

   HENRY:   The paper this morning called it The Copenhagen Interpretation. Niels

     Bohr debated Einstein and won. Poor Einstein, nobody believes him any more. The

     city fathers welcome him as a hero, the greatest genius of his time, they celebrate

     Einstein Day, but his peers prefer to listen to an unknown from Denmark. The

     Copenhagen Interpretation.


                                                                                                                                                I-2.

 

 

(Henry turns to the bed.)

 

   HENRY:   For God's sake, woman, aren't you finished yet?

 

   ROBERT:   I think she's close

 

   HENRY:   It's time you got dressed.

 

   ROBERT:   (to Leonora) Are you close?

 

(Leonora responds with a passionate cry and increases the tempo of her "riding.")

 

   HENRY:   (looking out the window) One day the world will be talking about The

     Oregon Interpretation. We should be across the street right now, telling them about

     it. The Copenhagen Interpretation is wrong, it has to be. Know what Bohr thinks?

     That it doesn't matter what quantum mechanics is about. All that matters is that it

     works. No wonder poor Einstein is in a tizzy. The paper quotes him as saying, "God

     does not play dice with the universe." Bohr disagrees. Well, God may play dice, all

     right, but the content of quantum mechanics still isn't something to dismiss. Bohr's

     close to the truth but he looks reality square in the eye and is afraid to face the social

     consequences of his won insights.

 

(He turns to the bed again.)

 

   HENRY:   We don't have all day, Robert.

 

   ROBERT:   Are you close?

 

(As before, Leonora replies with a passionate yelp.)

 

   HENRY:   Too much booze last night. I don't know why you're always picking them

     up. You'd think I bore you.

 

   ROBERT:   You don't bore me, Henry.

 

   HENRY:   Then what do you need a woman for?

 

   ROBERT:   I find them fascinating.

 

   HENRY:   Does that mean you have to fuck them?

 

   ROBERT:   Their sexuality if what fascinates me. Look at her. She's in another

     dimension.

 

   HENRY:   She's probably still drunk. You shouldn't have ordered that last bottle of

     champagne.

 

   ROBERT:   She likes me. She said she wants to have my baby.


                                                                                                                                                I-3.

 

 

   HENRY:   Oh barf!

 

   ROBERT:   Actually it's Einstein's baby she really wants. That's why she came to

     Brussels, to get pregnant by Einstein.

 

   HENRY:   Fat chance.

 

   ROBERT:   Maybe not.

 

   HENRY:   I'm sure Einstein has better taste than you do.

 

   ROBERT:   She's an interesting lady. She likes to hear us talk about physics.

 

   HENRY:   She can't possibly understand a word.

 

   ROBERT:   Don't be so sure. She's studying mathematics at the University.

 

   HENRY:   University, my ass.

 

   ROBERT:   She's bright, Henry.

 

   HENRY:   It takes more than "bright" to understand The Oregon Interpretation.

 

   ROBERT:   She can still wonder what we're talking about. Wonder is a greater gift

     than understanding.

 

   HENRY:   Can't you do something to bring her off?

 

   ROBERT:   Leonora? Are you close yet?

 

(Leonora cries out.)

 

   HENRY:   Fondle her breasts or something.

 

(Robert begins to fondle her breasts.)

 

   HENRY:   We don't have all morning. The delegates will be arriving soon.

 

   ROBERT:   Einstein will be among the last to arrive.

 

   HENRY:   You can't be sure.

 

   ROBERT:   The star always shows up late.

 

   HENRY:   The morning paper calls Bohr the star, with his Copenhagen Interpretation.

 

   ROBERT:   I think she's close now.


                                                                                                                                                I-4.

 

 

   HENRY:   Pinch her nipples. Talk dirty to her.

 

   ROBERT:   Here we go!

 

(And Leonora rocks furiously on top of Robert, reaching her orgasm. She collapses on top

of him.)

 

   ROBERT:   Did you see her? No man can come like that.

 

   HENRY:   Rubbish. It's all show. Women are more theatrical.

 

(Henry fetches Robert a robe. Robert gets out from under Leonora but remains in bed.)

 

   ROBERT:   I didn't know anyone could be more theatrical than you are, Henry.

 

   HENRY:   Very funny. Here. Give me a kiss.

 

(They peck like old lovers.)

 

(Leonora stirs, grabbing a nearby robe. She throws it over her and exits to the bathroom,

taking clothes with her.)

 

   HENRY:   Get dressed. We don't have much time.

 

   ROBERT:   I want to shower.

 

   HENRY:   I don't think there's time.

 

   ROBERT:   What time is it?

 

   HENRY:   Almost nine. They call to order at nine-thirty.

 

   ROBERT:   Einstein won't arrive before nine-twenty-five.

 

   HENRY:   We don't want to miss our best crack at him. Better safe than sorry.

 

   ROBERT:   Where's the paper?

 

(Henry fetches it for him.)

 

   HENRY:   The Copenhagen Interpretation, they call it.

 

   ROBERT:   And Bohr debated Einstein and won?

 

   HENRY:   Consensus: God does play dice with the universe.

 

   ROBERT:   He does and he doesn't.


                                                                                                                                                I-5.

 

 

   HENRY:   Exactly: The Oregon Interpretation.

 

   ROBERT:   I'll be curious what Einstein has to say about it.

 

   HENRY:   It doesn't matter what he has to say about it: we're right, Robert. The

     scientific community can't deny us that, not when they comprehend what we're saying.

 

   ROBERT:   It matters what Einstein thinks about it because he matters as a person.

 

   HENRY:   We're discussion his worth as a physicist, not as a person.

 

   ROBERT:   You're a romantic, Henry. You think it matters that someone is a

     physicist, that it provides some sort of privilege in life. It doesn't.

 

   HENRY:   Would we be in Brussels if we weren't physicists?

 

   ROBERT:   We're in Brussels because you were born with the accident of wealthy

     parents.

 

   HENRY:   And because we have something to contribute.

 

   ROBERT:   Einstein matters as a person, is all I'm saying. That's a moral imperative.

 

   HENRY:   What matters is that we find Einstein and that he understands us.

 

   ROBERT:   I'd be delighted if he understood us; then he could defeat this upstart

     Bohr and be the reigning champion again.

 

   HENRY:   We'll be the reigning champions.

 

   ROBERT:   Don't be greedy. Our work would be meaningless without the footwork

     prepared by Einstein.

 

   HENRY:   And you're a fine one to bring up morality, screwing every whore you can

     get your hands on.

 

   ROBERT:   Do you think Leonora matters to me?

 

   HENRY:   You've been spending all your time with her.

 

   ROBERT:   For God sakes, Henry, what's wrong with amusing the poor girl? We're

     probably giving her the best time she's had in her life. Think of the stories she can

     tell, meeting the great Einstein.

 

   HENRY:   If she knew anything, she'd talk about meeting us.

 

   ROBERT:   You're a very greedy genius, Henry.


                                                                                                                                                I-6.

 

 

   HENRY:   Perhaps it's the nature of the beast.

 

(Leonora enters, partially dressed.)

 

   ROBERT:   How do you feel?

 

   LEONORA:   Really good.

 

   ROBERT:   It was good for me, too.

 

   LEONORA:   Really?

 

   ROBERT:   Really.

 

   LEONORA:   I was hoping it would be. I was so wrapped up in myself, I wasn't

     paying attention.

 

   HENRY:   Now there's a greedy attitude if I ever heard one.

 

   LEONORA:   I always get carried away by my own pleasure.

 

   ROBERT:   Perfectly natural.

 

   HENRY:   Thank you for being so open-minded. Now perhaps you can get dressed

     and when can do what we came here to do.

 

   ROBERT:   I could use a cup of coffee before I shower.

 

   HENRY:   We don't have time for coffee!

 

   ROBERT:   Sure we do. You'd like coffee, wouldn't you, Leonora?

 

   LEONORA:   If it's all right.

 

   ROBERT:   Of course it's all right.

 

(Robert fetches money for coffee.)

 

   HENRY:   They'll be arriving any minute!

 

   ROBERT:   We both take ours black.

 

   LEONORA:   I'll be right back.

 

(She exits for coffee.)

 

   HENRY:   At least get dressed.


                                                                                                                                                I-7.

 

 

   ROBERT:   We're right on schedule, Henry. You worry too much. You're a bundle

     of nerves this morning.

 

   HENRY:   Of course I'm a bundle of nerves! We come all the way to Brussels to talk

     to Einstein and you spend your time playing games with a street whore.

 

   ROBERT:   She's not a street whore. She attends the University in Amsterdam and

     works part-time in the student whorehouse there.

 

   HENRY:   Oh barf!

 

   ROBERT:   She knows about the Schrodinger Equations. She asked some very

     perceptive questions about them.

 

   HENRY:   Have you considered what disease she may have given you?

 

   ROBERT:   She strikes me as a perfectly nice girl. I'm sure she's clean.

 

   HENRY:   A whore!?

 

   ROBERT:   She's a whore because she's poor. It's the only way she can afford an

     education. But she's also bright. Lots of bright girls in Amsterdam earn their way

     through the University that way. They have a more mature attitude toward sex over

     there.

 

   HENRY:   If she had brains, she'd have a scholarship. She wouldn't have to stoop to

     whoring.

 

   ROBERT:   It's not the worst way to make a living.

 

   HENRY:   Name something worst.

 

   ROBERT:   Being an economist. A sociologist. A politician. Writing drama reviews

     for the local weekly.

 

   HENRY:   You still can't be sure she's clean.

 

   ROBERT:   She seemed perfectly clean to me.

 

   HENRY:   What is that supposed to mean?

 

   ROBERT:   It means what I said. I have no evidence that she's diseased in any way.

 

   HENRY:   But do you have evidence from ignorance or because you performed an

     experiment and got negative results?

 

   ROBERT:   The latter.


                                                                                                                                                I-8.

 

 

   HENRY:   Gross me out!

 

   ROBERT:   Damn it, Henry, you keep taking everything personally.

 

   HENRY:   How am I supposed to take it?

 

   ROBERT:   I'm curious. I'm fascinated.

 

   HENRY:   You ate her out, didn't you?

 

   ROBERT:   Of course.

 

   HENRY:   It makes me want to puke.

 

   ROBERT:   Don't be jealous, it wasn't personal. You brought up the notion of an

     experiment. That's exactly what it was. I was curious and so I investigated her

     anatomy, you might say.

 

   HENRY:   The female anatomy disgusts me. The way they bleed.

 

   ROBERT:   Well, she wasn't bleeding. I'm curious about the world, is all. Women

     are in the world, so I'm curious about them, too.

 

   HENRY:   Women are an aberration. The dinosaurs of the species. How can they

     survive? They can't even think rationally.

 

   ROBERT:   They can feel.

 

   HENRY:   Thinking comes first.

 

   ROBERT:   Leonora is no dummy, Henry.

 

   HENRY:   I don't believe you. You're more interested in a whore than in me and the

     reason we're here.

 

   ROBERT:   That's not true.

 

(But Henry has moved away, hurt.)

 

   ROBERT:   Don't do this, Henry.

 

(No reply.)

 

   ROBERT:   Look, we'll have coffee and then we'll go downstairs and bring Einstein

     up here when he arrives. How's that?

 

(No reply.)


                                                                                                                                                I-9.

 

 

   ROBERT:   I'll get dressed.

 

(Robert fetches his clothes and exits.)

 

(Henry turns back into the room. Leonora enters with the coffee.)

 

   LEONORA:   Where's Robert?

 

   HENRY:   He's taking a shower. He's making sure he's clean.

 

   LEONORA:   Here's your coffee.

 

   HENRY:   Thank you.

 

   LEONORA:   I couldn't remember how you took it. I brought cream and sugar.

 

   HENRY:   We both take it black. Robert specifically said so.

 

   LEONORA:   I didn't remember.

 

   HENRY:   You must have a very short memory span.

 

   LEONORA:   What?

 

   HENRY:   Forget it.

 

(A pause.)

 

   LEONORA:   Why don't you like me?

 

   HENRY:   What makes you think I don't like you.

 

   LEONORA:   It's obvious.

 

(A pause.)

 

   LEONORA:   Do you want to have sex?

 

(No reply.)

 

   LEONORA:   Do you want to fuck me?

 

   HENRY:   Astounding.

 

   LEONORA:   What is?

 

   HENRY:   Your question. I find it quite remarkable.


                                                                                                                                              I-10.

 

 

   LEONORA:   I just thought you might be feeling left out.

 

   HENRY:   And what ever led you to that conclusion?

 

   LEONORA:   You don't seem to like me. I thought maybe because Robert and I have

     been doing it so much. Don't you want to do it with me?

 

   HENRY:   No thank you.

 

   LEONORA:   With both of us then?

 

   HENRY:   What?

 

   LEONORA:   You can join us whenever you want. I'm sure Robert wouldn't mind.

     He's very experimental.

 

   HENRY:   Astounding squared. To the nth power!

 

   LEONORA:   What?

 

   HENRY:   That's becoming our common form of address, "what?" We have so much

     in common.

 

   LEONORA:   See, you don't like me.

 

   HENRY:   Let me ask you something. Do you want to have Robert's baby?

 

   LEONORA:   Then that's it. You're jealous because I don't want to have yours. I

     hardly know you. Are you a genius, too?

 

   HENRY:   Of course I'm a genius. Why would I be in Brussels if I wasn't a genius?

 

   LEONORA:   You've ignored me since I came up here. You're always scowling at me.

     I don't think you like me. I must not be your type.

 

   HENRY:   Perhaps I owe you an apology.

 

   LEONORA:   What?

 

   HENRY:   What what?

 

(A pause.)

 

   LEONORA:   I don't know who's supposed to speak.

 

   HENRY:   Why should anyone speak?


                                                                                                                                              I-11.

 

 

   LEONORA:   Because we're having a conversation. We can't have a conversation

     unless we speak.

 

   HENRY:   What what what?

 

   LEONORA:   What?

 

(A pause.)

 

   HENRY:   Let's start over. I owe you an apology. I thought you were an imbecile.

 

   LEONORA:   Why?

 

   HENRY:   Damn. I just changed my mind.

 

   LEONORA:   What?

 

   HENRY:   What what?

 

   LEONORA:   Look, I don't know why you don't like me. But obviously you do, so

     let's just forget it, okay?

 

   HENRY:   One question. Why do you want to have Robert's baby?

 

   LEONORA:   Because he's a genius, and I like him.

 

   HENRY:   I'm a genius and you don't want to have my baby -- thank God!

 

   LEONORA:   There's no reason to be nasty about it. I don't even know you, except

     that you spend so much time scowling at me and being insulting. Don't think I don't

     know what you're doing. You insult me because you think I'm stupid. Well, I'm a

     math major at the University back home, mister. You don't know a thing about me,

     so you can just shove your opinions.

 

(A pause.)

 

   HENRY:   Well, then. Shall we start over and try again?

 

   LEONORA:   No. I don't enjoy the way we talk.

 

   HENRY:   Then what can we do to amuse one another?

 

   LEONORA:   If you want a blow job, forget it.

 

   HENRY:   My God, you do have a one-track mind, don't you? You really are a whore.

 

   LEONORA:   You're jealous because I spend all my time with Robert.


                                                                                                                                              I-12.

 

 

(Henry laughs.)

 

   LEONORA:   I don't know what's so funny. You paid for me. Robert did. I assumed

     you two were together. I thought you wanted a group scene.

 

   HENRY:   I shouldn't be laughing at you. I should be laughing at the father of your

     baby. He's such a romantic.

 

   LEONORA:   He's very romantic, as a matter of fact.

 

   HENRY:   Let's go back to the beginning. Did you bring the coffee?

 

   LEONORA:   What? No! Just forget I even said that. I'm sick and tired of being

     insulted.

 

   HENRY:   Actually we began with cleanliness, didn't we? Are you clean, dear?

 

   LEONORA:   Of course I'm clean. The University gives us weekly checkups.

 

   HENRY:   The University really runs a whorehouse?

 

   LEONORA:   Look, I don't like that term. We provide an important service. As a

     matter of fact, we get as many professors as students. And we do much better on the

     National Comprehensives than University branches that don't provide our service.

     Sexual satisfaction and learning go hand in hand.

 

   HENRY:   But you haven't been inspected since you came to Brussels. What

     happened on Wednesday and Thursday?

 

   LEONORA:   Nothing happened.

 

   HENRY:   Let me ask you this. How do you know Robert is clean?

 

   LEONORA:   You don't think he's clean?

 

   HENRY:   Aha! So you took a risk with him, didn't you?

 

   LEONORA:   What are you guys trying to pull here?

 

(Robert enters, clean and dressed.)

 

   ROBERT:   Is my coffee cold?

 

   LEONORA:   He says you're not clean.

 

   ROBERT:   Oh Christ, Henry.


                                                                                                                                              I-13.

 

 

   HENRY:   I did not say you weren't clean. I was presenting an hypothesis, trying to

     show her that she was taking a risk to have sex with you.

 

   ROBERT:   I'm clean, she's clean. The only one who hasn't showered this morning is

     you.

 

   LEONORA:   He's been insulting me ever since you left.

 

   ROBERT:   Leave her alone, will you?

 

   HENRY:   I don't want her here.

 

   ROBERT:   She isn't bothering anyone.

 

   HENRY:   It's time to take care of business.

 

   ROBERT:   I told her she could meet Einstein.

 

   HENRY:   There's no point in it.

 

   ROBERT:   She'll sit in the corner and listen. What harm can she do?

 

   HENRY:   She managed to botch things up so far.

 

   ROBERT:   How? What's she done?

 

   HENRY:   Distracted your curiosity, let us say. Sexed you into playing this idiotic

     game about having your child. Or Einstein's child, however it goes.

 

   LEONORA:   As long as it's not yours, mister! The kid would be an idiot.

 

   HENRY:   You're an idiot, if you think you'll get pregnant after a few rolls in the sack.

 

   ROBERT:   It's her fertile time, Henry.

 

   LEONORA:   My moon's in Libra.

 

   HENRY:   My cock's up your ass if you don't shut up.

 

   LEONORA:   Is that what you want? Why didn't you say so in the first place?

 

   HENRY:   Robert, see what I mean? How in hell can we concentrate on business if

     we have to deal with that?

 

   ROBERT:   When Einstein's here, she'll be fine.

 

(Henry moves to the window and looks out.)


                                                                                                                                              I-14.

 

 

   HENRY:   Oh shit, delegates are going into the hotel already!

 

   ROBERT:   Then let's get to work.

 

   HENRY:   Einstein may already have entered.

 

   ROBERT:   He's going to be among the last, trust me. He needs to make a grand

     entrance after everyone else is there.

 

(They are heading for the door.)

 

   HENRY:   If you're wrong--

 

   ROBERT:   Relax. In that case, we'll get him on his way out.

 

(Henry exits.)

 

   ROBERT:   Leonora, wait here. We'll be right back.

 

   LEONORA:   I don't like him.

 

   ROBERT:   He's nervous, is all.

 

   LEONORA:   I don't care if he doesn't want to go to bed with me but I don't like

     being insulted.

 

   ROBERT:   His bark is louder than his bite.

 

   LEONORA:   Fine. Just tell him to leave me alone.

 

   ROBERT:   I'll tell him. Just stay put, okay?

 

(Robert exits.)

 

(Leonora goes to the window. She picks up the binoculars and looks outside. BLACKOUT.)

 

2/ A SHORT TIME LATER

 

(LIGHTS UP. The door flings open and OSKAR is pushed into the room, followed

quickly by Henry and Robert. Leonora is startled. Oskar is costumed as Einstein.)

 

   HENRY:   Here we are, professor. Make yourself at home.

 

   OSKAR:   That's not so easy under the circumstances.

 

   ROBERT:   Can I get you coffee?

 

   OSKAR:   I don't want coffee. I want an explanation.


                                                                                                                                              I-15.

 

 

   HENRY:   We told you: we just want to talk to you.

 

   OSKAR:   We could have talked on the street. You forced me to come with you.

 

   HENRY:   Talk at length. Talk physics. It's more private here.

 

   ROBERT:   If the world were just, professor, we'd be across the street and therefore

     could hold our discussion in the proper forum. Unfortunately, since we have no

     reputations, we were not invited to the conference.

 

   OSKAR:   You are scientists?

 

   HENRY:   To be specific, we're the greatest two physicists of our generation. You

     can understand our disappointment in being denied an invitation.

 

   OSKAR:   I still don't understand.

 

   HENRY:   Prof. Einstein, remember how young you were yourself when you

     formulated your great relativity theories. And how unknown. So with us.

 

   ROBERT:   Please sit down. I'm sorry the room isn't more comfortable.

 

   OSKAR:   So what do you want to talk about?

 

   HENRY:   Everything.

 

(Leonora finally comes forward.)

 

   LEONORA:   Hello. I'm Leonora.

 

   OSKAR:   Hello.

 

   LEONORA:   I was wondering--

 

   HENRY:   You're not here to wonder.

 

   ROBERT:   Let her have her say, Henry.

 

   HENRY:   You said she wouldn't be in the way.

 

   ROBERT:   We do have important things to talk about, Leonora. You understand,

     don't you?

 

   LEONORA:   Of course.

 

   ROBERT:   Say what you have to say and then be quiet and listen. Okay?

 

   LEONORA:   (to Oskar) I was wondering ... can I have your autograph?


                                                                                                                                              I-16.

 

 

   OSKAR:   My autograph?

 

   HENRY:   No, you can't have his autograph! Now sit down over there and be still --

     or it's out you go.

 

   ROBERT:   I'll be sure you get his autograph.

 

(Leonora moves to the bed, to sulk but also to listen.)

 

   HENRY:   I read this morning's paper, professor. It says Bohr made mincemeat of

     you yesterday with his Copenhagen Interpretation.

 

   ROBERT:   Now it wasn't worded that strongly. He beat you in debate.

 

   HENRY:   That's why it's so important that we talk to you now.

 

   OSKAR:   At the moment, I'm missing the discussions.

 

   HENRY:   We'll have you back to the conference before they adjourn for lunch. So

     shall we begin with a thought experiment, Robert?

 

   ROBERT:   Why not?

 

   OSKAR:   A thought experiment?

 

   HENRY:   Right in your ballpark, professor. We call this thought experiment the

     paradox of the Quantum Cat.

 

(During the thought experiment below, as Henry and Robert become more excited about

their ideas, the pace of their exchange in the telling will increase greatly. Their conclusion

is not unlike, in energy, the release of Leonora in her orgasm at the beginning of the play.)

 

   HENRY:   We have a cat and we place it inside a box. The box is tightly sealed. In

     the box is also a device that can release a poisonous gas that will instantly kill the cat.

 

   ROBERT:   Whether the gas is released or not is determined by a random event. In

     this case, the random event is the radioactive decay of an atom.

 

   HENRY:   We have a sample of atoms with a half-life of one hour. We know that in

     an hour, half the atoms will have decayed. However, whether a particular atom --

     the one that will release the poisonous gas -- decays or not is problematical: a fifty-

     fifty chance, after an hour. The new Quantum Mechanics tells us this.

 

   ROBERT:   We perform the experiment that decays the atom or does not decay the

     atom--

 

   HENRY:   --but there's no way of knowing which, unless we unseal the box and look

     inside it.


                                                                                                                                              I-17.

 

 

   ROBERT:   And then we can see for ourselves whether the cat is dead or alive.

 

   HENRY:   But what if we delay in taking a peek? What if we have to go to the

     bathroom first, so instead of opening the box to see what happened to the cat, we go

     to the bathroom instead.

 

   ROBERT:   And the question is, what does this leave the cat?

 

   HENRY:   The answer to which, according to Newton and classical physics, is quite

     easy: it leaves the cat dead or alive, one eventuality of which happened as soon as

     we did the experiment.

 

   ROBERT:   As soon as the gas was released or not released.

 

   HENRY:   And though we have no way of knowing yet, until we look inside the box,

     the cat is dead or the cat is alive.

 

   ROBERT:   Either dead or alive.

 

   HENRY:   But, of course, this is not a description of reality as described by quantum

     mechanics.

 

   ROBERT:   Wherein lies the rub.

 

   HENRY:   For quantum theory tells us the situation is not so simple. According to

     Bohr and his Copenhagen Interpretation--

 

   ROBERT:   --which the morning paper says is quite convincing to the conference

     delegates at large--

 

   HENRY:   --the cat is neither dead nor alive but instead is represented by a wave

     function that contains the possibility that the cat is alive and also the possibility that

     the cat is not alive--

 

   ROBERT:   --the equation describing the decay contains both probabilities--

 

   HENRY:   --but neither possibility actualizes until we open the box and look at the

     results for ourselves--

 

   ROBERT:   --the wave function collapses at this point--

 

   HENRY:   --and neither possibility becomes an actuality until we look inside the box--

 

   ROBERT:   --so that while we're in the bathroom--

 

   HENRY:   --there is no cat at all--

 

   ROBERT:   --there is no cat in the box--


                                                                                                                                              I-18.

 

 

   HENRY:   --the only thing in the box--

 

   ROBERT:   --is the wave function--

 

   HENRY:   --the probability equation--

 

   ROBERT:   --so while we're in the bathroom--

 

   HENRY:   --answering nature's call--

 

   ROBERT:   --the cat--

 

   HENRY:   --in fact--

 

   ROBERT:   --does not exist.

 

(A pause.)

 

   ROBERT:   In other words, the cat does not exist until we ourselves open the box

     and look at it -- to find it dead or alive. It doesn't have an existence without our

     participation in determining the end of the experiment. Then we see a dead cat or a

     live cat.

 

(A pause.)

 

   HENRY:   So far, so good?

 

   OSKAR:   You mean, there's more?

 

   HENRY:   That's the Copenhagen Interpretation. We create a dead cat or we create a

     live cat. But what if, in fact, we create both, each in its own universe?

 

   OSKAR:   What?

 

   HENRY:   The Oregon Interpretation. We agree that the fate of the cat is not

     determined until we open the box. While we are answering nature's call, there's no

     cat in the box, only the wave function probability equation.

 

   ROBERT:   But once we open the box!--

 

   HENRY:   --something else entirely has happened--

 

   ROBERT:   --for at the moment the atom decays, the world splits into two branches--

 

   HENRY:   --each containing one of the possibilities for the fate of the cat--

 

   ROBERT:   --a world in which the cat lives--


                                                                                                                                              I-19.

 

 

   HENRY:   --a world in which the cat dies--

 

   ROBERT:   --and when we open the box to look inside--

 

   HENRY:   --the wave function also splits in two--

 

   ROBERT:   --one branch associated with the cat living--

 

   HENRY:   --one branch associated with the cat dying--

 

   ROBERT:   --and though we see only one branch for ourselves--

 

   HENRY:   --the other branch still exists--

 

   ROBERT:   --in a mode we can't apprehend--

 

   HENRY:   --so that, in fact, the cat is alive and dead--

 

   ROBERT:   --simultaneously--

 

   HENRY:   --at the same time--

 

   ROBERT:   --rather in two universes at the same time--

 

   HENRY:   --each with a different actuality--

 

   ROBERT:   --a dead cat in one universe--

 

   HENRY:   --a live cat in another universe--

 

   ROBERT:   --but neither able to perceive the other.

 

   HENRY:   The Oregon Interpretation!

 

(A pause.)

 

   OSKAR:   Oregon, huh? Where's that?

 

   ROBERT:   In the northwestern part of the United States.

 

   OSKAR:   So that's what you think in Oregon?

 

   HENRY:   What two of us think.

 

(A pause.)

 

   OSKAR:   I don't know what to say.


                                                                                                                                              I-20.

 

 

   HENRY:   Think about it.

 

(A pause.)

 

   LEONORA:   Do you really poison cats?

 

   HENRY:   Robert!

 

   ROBERT:   No, we don't poison cats. Just sit and listen, okay?

 

   LEONORA:   You really don't poison--

 

   HENRY:   No! But we murder people who interrupt us when we're talking physics.

 

(A pause.)

 

   HENRY:   The Oregon Interpretation, Prof. Einstein. The cat exists in two worlds

     simultaneously, dead in one universe, alive in another universe. You can imagine

     the complexity when every possibility branches out this way. Why, there's a universe

     out there in which you're still working as a clerk!

 

(Oskar pulls off his wig.)

 

   OSKAR:   And there's a universe where I'm not Einstein -- this one!

 

(Leonora lets out a little gasp.)

 

   OSKAR:   Hello, Leonora. So this is what happened to you.

 

   HENRY:   You know her?

 

   OSKAR:   Yes. We met earlier in the week.

 

   HENRY:   I don't get it. Who are you? Why the disguise?

 

   OSKAR:   Oskar. The business community declared today as Einstein Day. I attended

     a breakfast in his honor. I entered the look-alike contest.

 

   HENRY:   Great, just great. We've been in Brussels two days and have gotten

     nowhere!

 

   ROBERT:   Relax, Henry. We've got lots of time.

 

   OSKAR:   (to get out) Since I'm not the professor--

 

   HENRY:   Wait a minute. How come you know her?

 

   OSKAR:   Let's just say we did business together.


                                                                                                                                              I-21.

 

 

   LEONORA:   I'm sorry about last night, Oskar.

 

   OSKAR:   You missed an excellent dinner.

 

   LEONORA:   I should've called you at the restaurant.

 

   OSKAR:   Yes, that would have been polite.

 

   LEONORA:   When I met Robert, him, I just lost track of all time and--

 

   OSKAR:   I understand. You want a genius to father your baby. Are you two geniuses?

 

   HENRY:   Quite.

 

   LEONORA:   I'm really sorry, Oskar. You've been really nice to me. Maybe I can

     make it up to you?

 

   OSKAR:   You needn't bother.

 

   LEONORA:   You've been very sweet and generous. Let me make it up to you. What

     are you doing for the next half-hour?

 

   OSKAR:   It doesn't matter. I've been lied to before.

 

   LEONORA:   I feel terrible. Please: on me.

 

   OSKAR:   There'd be no charge?

 

   LEONORA:   What do you say?

 

   OSKAR:   Where?

 

   LEONORA:   There's a vacant room just down the hall.

 

   OSKAR:   I am free for an hour ...

 

   LEONORA:   (to Robert) You don't mind? I mean, I did miss our dinner date.

 

   ROBERT:   Be my guest.

 

   LEONORA:   I'll be back in an hour.

 

   ROBERT:   No rush.

 

   LEONORA:   You won't miss me?

 

   OSKAR:   If you two are going to have a love spat--


                                                                                                                                              I-22.

 

 

   ROBERT:   She's all yours. Henry and I have business to take care of.

 

   HENRY:   Oh really? I'd never have known it.

 

   ROBERT:   You go on.

 

   LEONORA:   Will I see you again?

 

   ROBERT:   If you want.

 

   LEONORA:   In about an hour?

 

   ROBERT:   Sure.

 

   HENRY:   No!

 

   ROBERT:   Knock on the door first.

 

   OSKAR:   I don't have--

 

   ROBERT:   She's on her way.

 

(Robert escorts them to the door.)

 

   LEONORA:   In an hour--

 

   ROBERT:   Sure. Have fun.

 

(Oscar and Leonora exit.)

 

   HENRY:   What is wrong with you?

 

   ROBERT:   Not a thing.

 

   HENRY:   First you're fathering her baby; then you're treating her like the whore she is.

 

   ROBERT:   I paid for her -- so theoretically she is a whore.

 

   HENRY:   Oskar's getting a freebie on your time.

 

   ROBERT:   It was rude to stand him up. She owes him one.

 

   HENRY:   I don't want her back here, Robert. I don't like what she does to you.

 

   ROBERT:   She fascinates me -- nothing more.

 

   HENRY:   I think you're stuck on her.


                                                                                                                                              I-23.

 

 

   ROBERT:   Don't be silly.

 

   HENRY:   I sense more than curiosity.

 

   ROBERT:   Mainly curiosity.

 

   HENRY:   Curiosity killed the cat, Robert. Think about it.

 

   ROBERT:   Killed the Quantum Cat, do you think?

 

   HENRY:   Very funny.

 

   ROBERT:   I think so.

 

   HENRY:   Well, I don't! I haven't found a single thing amusing in the last two days.

     We came here for a specific purpose, a single solitary clear goal that we discussed

     before we even left the States. If I'd known you'd spend all your time chasing

     whores, I wouldn't have come.

 

   ROBERT:   I haven't been chasing whores. I bought her for three days so we'd all be

     together.

 

   HENRY:   Three days! You didn't tell me you bought her for three days.

 

   ROBERT:   Just in case.

 

   HENRY:   In case what? If case she wanted to have your baby?

 

   ROBERT:   In case we had problems with Einstein.

 

   HENRY:   Oh, we have problems in that department, thanks to your lack of interest.

 

   ROBERT:   The man looks like Einstein. You thought so, too.

 

   HENRY:   What an idiotic way to honor a man, with a look-alike contest.

 

   ROBERT:   I don't know -- it strikes me as something you'd love, Henry. You'd be

     ecstatic if the whole world looked like you.

 

   HENRY:   Not at breakfast. Barf.

 

   ROBERT:   The city fathers were trying to honor him. Don't blame them for doing

     their civic duty -- even if it is gauche.

 

   HENRY:   And what do you know about being gauche? You spend the morning

     eating out a whore, you invite her to spend three days with us--

 

   ROBERT:   Will you calm down a minute? We do have work to do.


                                                                                                                                              I-24.

 

 

   HENRY:   Suddenly you're interested in what we came here for?

 

   ROBERT:   We went down there and did our job, didn't we? How were we to know

     there was a look-alike contest? So we'll wait til their lunch break and get him then.

 

   HENRY:   It won't be as easy. They trickle in in the morning but at break, they come

     out in groups. We won't have a chance to isolate him.

 

   ROBERT:   Maybe we won't, maybe we will.

 

   HENRY:   Einstein and Bohr will probably come out together, still arguing. And

     they'll be surrounded by delegates taking sides. It'll be a madhouse at break.

 

   ROBERT:   Then we'll get him tonight or in the morning. No harm done.

 

   HENRY:   Oh, of course not, it's not your money that's paying for everything.

 

   ROBERT:   Not yours either, Henry.

 

   HENRY:   It's mine by inheritance.

 

   ROBERT:   Your parents aren't dead yet.

 

   HENRY:   So what? I'm spending a little now instead of later.

 

   ROBERT:   I have your father to thank--

 

   HENRY:   Oh God!

 

   ROBERT:   And all the cattle as well. They're the ones really financing this.

 

   HENRY:   You just have to rub it in, don't you?

 

   ROBERT:   Rub what in, Henry?

 

   HENRY:   You know perfectly well what I mean.

 

   ROBERT:   I was just saying that--

 

   HENRY:   You just love to remind me that my parents aren't cultured.

 

   ROBERT:   They're millionaires, they don't have to be cultured.

 

   HENRY:   They're not really that wealthy.

 

   ROBERT:   Enough to finance their son's escapades.

 

   HENRY:   You chase whores and I'm on an escapade!


                                                                                                                                              I-25.

 

 

   ROBERT:   Your father thinks physics is an escapade.

 

   HENRY:   A thought like that is too complex for my father.

 

   ROBERT:   That's what he told me.

 

   HENRY:   When?

 

   ROBERT:   When I was picking you up for the airport. You were late, as usual, so

     your father and I had a little chat.

 

   HENRY:   You didn't tell me that.

 

   ROBERT:   It didn't seem important.

 

   HENRY:   My father thinks physics, my life, is an escapade -- and it isn't important?

 

   ROBERT:   You regard your father as a stupid farmer.

 

   HENRY:   Rancher.

 

   ROBERT:   A baby-sitter of cows, that's what you called him once. A man like that

     can't be expected to understand physics.

 

   HENRY:   He really said that this trip was an escapade?

 

   ROBERT:   "I suppose you boys will be chasing a lot of women over there. Between

     you and me, it's an escapade I would've enjoyed at your age." His exact words.

 

   HENRY:   Save me!

 

   ROBERT:   Well, you can't expect him to believe the truth, even if he suspected it.

 

   HENRY:   Was my mother there?

 

   ROBERT:   She was in the barn. She didn't come into the house til you were

     downstairs and ready to go.

 

   HENRY:   Why do we get the parents we do?

 

   ROBERT:   Think of it this way -- in another universe, you have different parents.

     Of course, you might not be a physicist, or even very bright.

 

   HENRY:   How could parents like that have me? Do you think I was adopted?

 

   ROBERT:   Genius often has humble roots.

 

   HENRY:   Why couldn't I have parents like yours?


                                                                                                                                              I-26.

 

 

   ROBERT:   A high-school math teacher couldn't afford to send us to Europe. I think

     your parents deserve our thanks.

 

   HENRY:   Not that we're accomplishing anything ...

 

   ROBERT:   Oh, we will, we will.

 

   HENRY:   I'd feel like a fool if we don't.

 

   ROBERT:   It wouldn't be your fault.

 

   HENRY:   A fool for trusting you. For believing you thought the same way I did

     about the Oregon Interpretation.

 

   ROBERT:   The trouble with you, Henry, is you can't take any time off to play. With

     you, it's all work.

 

   HENRY:   And who would I play with, might I ask? I could be here alone, for all the

     company I get.

 

   ROBERT:   You can play with me.

 

   HENRY:   I'd feel like I was walking into a second-hand store.

 

   ROBERT:   I just took a shower.

 

   HENRY:   Why do you treat me this way?

 

   ROBERT:   How am I treating you?

 

   HENRY:   Like a stranger.

 

   ROBERT:   You don't have to be a stranger.

 

   HENRY:   All you do is reject me.

 

   ROBERT:   She means nothing to me. My fascination isn't anything new, you know.

 

   HENRY:   It's one thing to look at those photographs you save and quite another to

     pick up a whore in the flesh. You've been giving all your attention to her.

 

   ROBERT:   I'm not giving her my attention now.

 

   HENRY:   What happens when she gets back?

 

   ROBERT:   She's nothing to me. I'm having fun with her. She's so sincere. So noble.


                                                                                                                                              I-27.

 

 

   HENRY:   Well, that's something I'm not, is noble, and this whole line of talk sounds

     mighty fishy to me, Robert, I'll tell you that.

 

(A pause.)

 

   ROBERT:   Well?

 

(A pause.)

 

   HENRY:   Oh Christ, why do I let myself give in to you all the time?

 

   ROBERT:   I don't know, Henry. Why?

 

   HENRY:   You cause me so much goddamn pain.

 

   ROBERT:   Want me to go?

 

   HENRY:   Go where?

 

   ROBERT:   Out. Anywhere. If you don't want me here ...

 

(He starts for the door.)

 

   HENRY:   Wait!

 

(A pause.)

 

   HENRY:   Please don't go.

 

(They slowly approach one another as LIGHTS FADE TO BLACKOUT.)

 

3/ AN HOUR LATER

 

(AT RISE: Robert and Henry are in bed after making love.)

 

   HENRY:   What are you thinking?

 

   ROBERT:   I was wondering, actually.

 

   HENRY:   Wondering what?

 

   ROBERT:   Wondering when you were going to ask me what I was thinking.

 

   HENRY:   You had a premonition?

 

   ROBERT:   Henry, you usually ask me what I'm thinking when we're done.

 

   HENRY:   If you'd tell me one time, I wouldn't have to ask.


                                                                                                                                              I-28.

 

 

   ROBERT:   I tell you the same thing every time -- it was sweet.

 

   HENRY:   Yes, it was.

 

(A pause.)

 

   HENRY:   Is it very different for you -- with a woman?

 

   ROBERT:   Different, yes. Not as sweet. More technical.

 

   HENRY:   Technical? I don't understand.

 

   ROBERT:   Like an experiment, engaging wonder and curiosity -- but no passion.

     There's no passion in it at all.

 

   HENRY:   For someone as passionate as you are--

 

   ROBERT:   Only with you, Henry.

 

   HENRY:   That's such a sweet thing to say. Especially if it's true.

 

   ROBERT:   Of course, it's true.

 

   HENRY:   I know. I just like to hear you repeat it.

 

   ROBERT:   It's true, it's true, it's true ...

 

(They embrace. There's a knock on the door.)

 

   HENRY:   Oh shit ...

 

   ROBERT:   I have to let her in.

 

   HENRY:   Why?

 

   ROBERT:   I don't want to hurt her feelings.

 

(Another knock.)

 

   ROBERT:   Just a minute!

 

   HENRY:   What about my feelings?

 

   ROBERT:   You're a mature, sensitive, intelligent genius -- which means you listen

     to reason. Sometimes.

 

(They get out of bed, quickly slipping on their robes, and Robert goes to the door.)


                                                                                                                                              I-29.

 

 

   HENRY:   Well, I'm here under protest, I want you to know that.

 

   ROBERT:   Duly noted.

 

(He opens the door. Leonora enters. Her dress is torn, she's disheveled.)

 

   ROBERT:   What happened?

 

   LEONORA:   Oskar doesn't like being stood up.

 

   ROBERT:   Are you all right?

 

   LEONORA:   I feel stupid not making him pay. Look at my dress.

 

   ROBERT:   Come on, you'd better lie down.

 

(He escorts her to the bed.)

 

   LEONORA:   I think he was jealous.

 

   ROBERT:   That makes it my fault.

 

   LEONORA:   No, I didn't mean it like that.

 

   ROBERT:   Wait'll I get ahold of him--

 

   LEONORA:   I don't want more trouble. Just promise me you won't let him in here.

 

   ROBERT:   Of course, I won't.

 

(With his back to the audience, Henry slings open his robe, exposing himself to Leonora.)

 

   HENRY:   Give me a professional opinion -- do you see many men better hung than

     I am?

 

   ROBERT:   And so modest.

 

   HENRY:   Keep out of this. I'm asking the lady for her professional opinion.

 

   LEONORA:   You're a horse.

 

(Henry closes his robe and moves away.)

 

   HENRY:   There are more poetic ways of putting it. Unless you two can't get along

     without me, I think I'll take a shower.

 

   ROBERT:   We're not going anywhere.


                                                                                                                                              I-30.