A Streetcar Named Desire Page #4

I ought to go there on a rocket...

...that never comes down.

Which way do we go now, Stella?

This way?

No, hon, this way.

The blind are leading the blind.

Red hots!

Are you going upstairs

and tell her to cut that out?

If I go up, I won't come down.

Let's just forget it.

Remember that night she poured boiling

water through them cracks in the floor?

I gotta go home pretty soon.

- Come on, what do you say?

- No, I'm out.

Every time you win a big pot,

you're out like stout.

I got a sick mother

and she don't go to sleep...

...until I get in.

- What do you say?

I'm gonna wash up.

- Stella?

- Yes, Eunice?

You tell them guys

the kettle's on the stove.

I'm gonna break up the game.

- What did she mean by that?

- She'll pour it straight through the cracks.

Stella, wait. Wait till I powder.

I feel so hot and frazzled.

- Do I look done in?

- You look as fresh as a daisy.

One that's been picked a few days.

Why don't someone go to the Chinaman's

and bring back a load of chop suey?

- I'm losing and you want to eat.

- Well, I see you boys are still at it.

- Where you been?

- Blanche and I took in a show.

Blanche, honey, this is Mr. Gonzalez

and Mr. Hubbell.

How do you do?

Please don't get up.

Nobody's getting up here,

so don't get worried.

- Poker is so fascinating. Could I kibitz?

- You could not.

Why don't you women

go on up to Eunice's?

How long's this game going to continue?

Till we get ready to quit.

You should call it quits

after one more hand.

- Go up to Eunice's.

- Hey, that's my coat.

That's not fun, Stanley.

It makes me so mad

when he does that in front of people.

- I think I'll go bathe.

- Again?

My nerves are in knots.

Is the bathroom occupied?

I don't know.

- Oh, good evening.

- Oh, hello.

Blanche, this is Harold Mitchell.

- This is my sister, Blanche DuBois.

- How do you do.

- How do you do, Miss DuBois.

- How's your mother now, Mitch?

Oh, she's about the same, thanks.

She appreciated your

sending over that custard.

Oh, excuse me, please.

Excuse me.

- That one seems superior to the others.

- Does he?

- I thought he had a sort of sensitive look.

- His mother's sick.

- Is he married?

- No.

- Is he a wolf?

- Why, Blanche.

- Well, no, I don't think he would be.

- What does he do?

He's on the Precision Bench

in the Spare Parts Department.

The plant that Stanley travels for.

- Is that something much?

- No.

Stanley's the only one in his crowd

likely to get any work.

Hey, Blanche,

you're standing in the light.

Am I? Gracious.

You ought to see their wives.

Oh, I can imagine.

Big, beefy things, I suppose.

- Do you know that one upstairs?

- Oh, yes.

Well, one night...

And the plaster...!

Hey, you hens!

- Cut out that cackling in there.

- You can't hear us.

Well, you can hear me,

and I told you to hush up.

Stella.

Look, this is my house

and I'll talk as much as I want to.

- Stella, don't start a row.

- Oh, he's half-drunk.

I'll be out in a minute.

What do you say, Mitch?

- Come on, Mitch, are you in?

- Huh?

No, I'm out.

Who turned that on in there?

- I did. Do you mind?

- Well, turn it off!

Come on, will you?

Let the girls have their music?

Stanley!

There you are.

I didn't hear you name it!

- Didn't I name it?

- I wasn't listening.

What were you doing?

Looking through the drapes.

- I wasn't.

- We're gonna play.

We're gonna deal this hand again,

play cards or quit.

Deal me out.

All right, this game's gonna be

Spit in the Ocean.

Yes?

Oh, hello.

Excuse me.

The little boy's room

is occupied right now.

Oh, excuse me.

- Have you got any cigs?

- Oh, sure.

Oh, what a... What a pretty case.

- Silver?

- Yes.

Yes, read the inscription.

Oh, there is an inscription.

Why, I can't make it out.

"And if God choose...

...I shall but love thee better

after death."

Why, that's from my

favorite sonnet by Mrs. Browning.

- Why, you know it.

- Certainly, I do.

Well, there's a story connected

with this inscription.

It sounds like a romance.

No, no, it's a pretty sad one.

The girl's dead now.

She knew she was dying when she give

me this. A very strange girl, very sweet.

- Very...

- She must have been very fond of you.

Sick people have such

deep, sincere attachments.

- That's right. They certainly do.

- Sorrow makes for sincerity, I think.

It sure brings it out in people.

The little there is belongs to people

who have known some sorrow.

- I believe you're right about that.

- Oh, I'm positive I am.

- Hey, Mitch!

- Deal me out. I'm talking to Miss...?

DuBois.

It's a French name.

It means "woods,"

and Blanche means "white"...

...so the two together mean

"white woods"...

...like an orchard in spring.

You can remember it by that...

...if you care to.

You are Stella's sister, are you not?

Yes. Stella is my precious little sister.

I call her little in spite of the fact

that she's somewhat older than I am.

Oh.

Oh, just slightly. Less than a year.

Will you do something for me?

Sure. Yes, what?

I bought this adorable little paper lantern

at a Chinese shop on Bourbon.

Put it over the light bulb.

Will you, please?

I'd be glad to.

I can't stand a naked light bulb

any more than I can a rude remark...

...or a vulgar action.

Well, I guess we strike you as being

a pretty rough bunch.

Oh, I'm very adaptable to circumstances.

Well, that's a good way to be.

- You're not...?

- Married?

Oh, no.

No, I'm an old maid schoolteacher.

You may be a schoolteacher,

but you're certainly not an old maid.

Why, thank you, sir.

I appreciate your gallantry.

So you're in the teaching profession.

Yes.

- Yes.

- Grade school or high school...?

- Hey, Mitch!

- Coming!

Gracious, what lung power.

I teach high school in Auriol.

Well, what do you teach?

What subject?

- You guess.

- Well, I bet you teach art or music.

- Ha, ha, ha.

- Well, of course, I could be wrong.

You might teach arithmetic.

Never arithmetic, sir.

Never arithmetic.

I don't know

my multiplication tables. Nope.

I have the misfortune

of being an English instructor.

I attempt to instill

a bunch of bobbysoxers...

...and drugstore Romeos

with a reverence for Hawthorne...

...and Whitman and Poe.

Well, I bet some of them

are more interested in other things.

How very right you are.

Their literary heritage is not

what they treasure above all else.

But they're sweet things...

...and in the spring it's touching to see

them making their first discovery of love...

...as if nobody had ever known it before.

Oh.

- Sorry. Oh, excuse me, excuse me.

- Have you finished?

- Oh, yes. Yes, I have.

- Wait, wait. I'll turn on the radio.

Turn on the light above now.

Oh, look.

We've made enchantment.

- Three bullets, mustache.

- Straight! I gotcha!

- Stanley! Stanley!

What are you doing with the radio?

Drunk! Drunk animal thing!

- Get out!

- Hey!

- Go on, get out!

- Hey!

Let go of her!

My sister is gonna have a baby!

You come on up to my place, honey.

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