Keep Your Pantheon (and School)
Keep Your Pantheon
(and School)
TWO UNRELATED PLAYS
OTHER BOOKS BY DAVID MAMET
PUBLISHED BY TCG
Race
Keep Your Pantheon
(and School)
TWO UNRELATED PLAYS
David Mamet
THEATRE COMMUNICATIONS GROUP
NEW YORK
2012
Keep Your Pantheon (and School): Two Unrelated Plays is copyright © 2012
by David Mamet
Keep Your Pantheon is copyright © 2012 by David Mamet
School is copyright © 2012 by David Mamet
Keep Your Pantheon (and School): Two Unrelated Plays is published by
Theatre Communications Group, Inc., 520 Eighth Avenue, 24th Floor,
New York, NY 10018-4156
All Rights Reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio or television reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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The publication of Keep Your Pantheon (and School): Two Unrelated Plays by David Mamet, through TCG’s Book Program, is made possible in part by the New York State Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew Cuomo and the New York State Legislature.
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Mamet, David.
Keep your pantheon (and School) : two unrelated plays / David Mamet.
—1st ed.
p. cm.
eISBN 978-1-55936-724-0
I. Mamet, David. School. II. Title. III. Title: School.
PS3563.A4345K444 2011
812’.54—dc23 2011040062
Book design and composition by Lisa Govan
Cover illustration by David Mamet
Cover design by Lisa Govan
First Edition, April 2012
Contents
KEEP YOUR PANTHEON
SCHOOL
Keep Your Pantheon
This play is dedicated to Jack Wallace
PRODUCTION HISTORY
Keep Your Pantheon premiered in May 2008 at the Center Theatre Group (Michael Ritchie, Artistic Director; Charles Dillingham, Managing Director) in Los Angeles. It was performed as a double bill with The Duck Variations. It was directed by Neil Pepe. Set design was by Takeshi Kata, costume design was by Ilona Somogyi, lighting design was by Christopher Akerlind and sound design was by Cricket S. Myers. The production stage manager was David S. Franklin and the stage manager was Elizabeth Atkinson. The cast was as follows:
HERALD Vincent Guastaferro
STRABO Ed O’Neill
PELARGON David Paymer
PHILIUS Michael Cassidy
RAMUS Jack Wallace
QUINTUS MAGNUS Steven Goldstein
TITUS J. J. Johnston
LUPUS ALBUS Dominic Hoffman
MESSENGER Rod McLachlan
ENSEMBLE Jeffrey Addiss, Rod McLachlan,
Jonathan Rossetti
Keep Your Pantheon was produced in September 2009 at Atlantic Theater Company (Neil Pepe, Artistic Director; Jeffory Lawson, Managing Director) in New York City. It was performed as a double bill with School. It was directed by Neil Pepe. Set design was by Takeshi Kata, costume design was by Ilona Somogyi and lighting design was by Christopher Akerlind. The production stage manager was Gregory T. Livoti. The cast was as follows:
HERALD Steven Hawley
STRABO Brian Murray
PELARGON John Pankow
PHILIUS Michael Cassidy
RAMUS Jack Wallace
QUINTUS MAGNUS Todd Weeks
TITUS J. J. Johnston
LUPUS ALBUS Jordan Lage
MESSENGER Rod McLachlan
ENSEMBLE Jeffrey Addiss, Rod McLachlan,
Jonathan Rossetti
CHARACTERS
HERALD
STRABO: An actor
PELARGON: An actor
PHILIUS: Strabo’s young apprentice
RAMUS: An old drunk
QUINTUS MAGNUS: The landlord
MESSENGER
MAN
AUDIENCE
TITUS: A jailor
LUPUS ALBUS: The White Wolf of Phrygia, a general
CENTURIONS
ARMORERS
GUARDS
PRIEST
SETTING
Ancient Rome.
The impatient crowd rushed at the dawn of day to secure their places, and there were many who passed a sleepless and anxious night in the adjacent porticos. From the morning to the evening, careless of the sun, or of the rain, the spectators, who sometimes amounted to the number of four hundred thousand, remained in eager attention.
—Edward Gibbon,
The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire
Scene One
An actors’ studio in ancient Rome. Two actors, Strabo and Pelargon, in ratty clothes, are batting their arms, trying to keep warm. Walking up and down.
Outside, in the rain, a Herald walks by the open windows.
HERALD:
O for the tongues of all the gods
To decry that fate, which ’gainst all odds
Has brought the Tenth African Legion low
Oh, Rome, rend your garments and ashes throw . . .
STRABO: Has anybody seen my codpiece? . . .
HERALD:
Has brought the Tenth African
Legion low . . .
PELARGON (To the Herald): Hey, what happened to the Tenth African Legion?
HERALD:
The Tenth African Legion has suffered its first defeat . . .
STRABO: Mee, me, mo mo moo moo . . . Has anybody seen my codpiece? . . .
HERALD:
They have suffered their first defeat
Loss is more bitter than victory’s sweet.
STRABO: Mmee mee hah mah . . . Would you, would you, give a working man a break.
HERALD: Buy Sosostris Sandals—the Egyptians wore them. They just don’t wear out!
STRABO: Has anybody—
PELARGON: You don’t need your codpiece to do your voice exercises.
STRABO: I don’t work without my codpiece.
PELARGON: The kid is not going to be impressed by your codpiece.
STRABO: Where is he?
PELARGON: He went out to get the mail.
STRABO: IN THE RAIN? YOU LET HIM GO OUT IN THE RAIN?
(The kid, Philius, enters sopping wet and sneezes.)
PHILIUS: Achoo.
STRABO: Young Philius, may I assist you out of those wet clothes? . . .
PELARGON (To self): . . . Oh, please.
(Philius sneezes.)
STRABO: And are you unwell?
PHILIUS (Quoting): “What is the health of this mineral body, compared to the health of R
ome?”
STRABO: That’s very good.
PELARGON: It’s “mortal body,” not “mineral body.”
STRABO: He said “mortal body.”
PELARGON: I can’t understand a thing he’s saying.
STRABO: He’s getting a cold, all right? And P.S. any dolt can say the words. He’s got the feeling.
(Philius sneezes.)
Give him a cup of wine.
PELARGON: It’s our last wine.
STRABO: And are we not to share it with our student? With that youth who has so esteemed us, as to leave his home, and apply to us for instruction? . . . Who has thrown his lot in with us. In pursuit of that Most Noble of Achievements: Service of Thalia, the Muse of Comedy. God bless you, youngster. How it delights these old bones to feel the warmth of your enthusiasms. May our years together . . .
(Philius shows a letter.)
PHILIUS: Strabo, I have a letter for you.
STRABO: Who is the letter from?
PHILIUS: My father.
STRABO: Ah. And did he send money?
PHILIUS: No. He says I have to come home.
(Pause.)
STRABO: Why?
PHILIUS: Because, you said you’d put me on the stage—and since I’ve arrived, you haven’t had a job.
(Pause.)
And you said you’d put me onstage.
STRABO: And I shall put you onstage. WHERE YOU BELONG. But. One must have patience.
PHILIUS: And we don’t have enough to eat.
STRABO: It’s the Spartan Method. We’ve explained the Spartan Method.
PHILIUS (As water falls on his head): And the roof is leaking.
STRABO: Philius, the service of our Muse is hard. But Fortune favors fortitude. How we will laugh, in times to come at what will, in that happy hour, be seen as less than inconveniences.
PHILIUS: Oh, and I have another letter.
STRABO (As Philius hands him the letter): What is it?
PELARGON (Reads): It’s an inquiry of our availability.
STRABO: An inquiry of our availability. You see! You see! We are available. The day is saved. Fortune has smiled on our steadfastness. Write your father. Tell him we are employed.
PHILIUS: I’m happy, Strabo.
STRABO: I know that you are. See how the merest brief emotions pursue each other o’er the bright plasticity of his manly face.
(It rains on them.)
PHILIUS: Should I go up and fix the leak?
PELARGON: How would you fix it?
PHILIUS: I could find out where it’s coming from.
PELARGON: I believe it’s coming from the roof.
PHILIUS: I believe so, too. “And I praise Mighty Zeus, for that bright happy wind which . . .”
PELARGON: “. . . steered me . . .”
STRABO: He knows it . . . he knows it . . .
PHILIUS: “. . . steered me to this refuge. O Athena, send your seed of wisdom to search through the rock of my innards.”
PELARGON: Amen, with all my heart.
(Philius exits.)
STRABO: The lad has something—don’t you think?
PELARGON: He’ll never go to bed with you.
STRABO: His reluctance, to date, I lay at the feet of poverty. (Taking the letter) With the belly full “love will bloom like the wild gorse on Mount Ida.” The Sicilian Cork Festival!!!
PELARGON (Taking back the letter): The Lesser Sicilian Cork Festival.
STRABO: Are not the Lesser Sicilians entitled to amusement? . . . When does our engagement begin?
PELARGON: It’s not an engagement. It’s an audition.
STRABO: An audition . . . ?
PELARGON: Yes.
STRABO: They want me to come to Sicily to audition?
PELARGON (Reads; showing the letter): “The proctors of the Lesser Sicilian Cork Festival are pleased to announce that you have been selected as one of the thirty troops invited to audition . . .”
STRABO: I? Strabo?
PELARGON: Yes.
STRABO: Strabo? Who played before Caesar . . . ?
PELARGON: . . . as a child . . .
STRABO: Who reduced the Neapolitan Senate to tears . . .
PELARGON (Simultaneously): . . . reduced the Neapolitan Senate to tears . . .
STRABO: To whom, this gifted lad, this comet, has applied for instruction? He could have gone to the Company of Paulus, may his name be accursed. No. But he did not go to the Company of Paulus. No—he came here . . . to work beneath me . . .
PELARGON: Dream on.
STRABO: And, these swine ask me: to “audition,” to “plead,” to be allowed to play the . . . what is it?
PELARGON: . . . the Lesser Sicilian.
STRABO: The Lesser Sicilian Cork Festival? While Paulus, that hack, in my rightful place, performs before Caesar.
PELARGON: Well, not now he doesn’t, ’cause he’s in Sardinia.
STRABO: May he remain there. Entertaining savages.
(The door opens. Ramus, an old drunk, enters.)
RAMUS: By the gods.
PELARGON: By the gods.
STRABO: Not today.
RAMUS: I seek no charity . . . I come with . . .
STRABO: Yes, I know. Charms and portents, potions and news. Not tod—
RAMUS: A love charm . . .
STRABO: I don’t require a love charm.
RAMUS: I saw the kid on the roof.
STRABO: I don’t require a love charm to succeed with the kid.
RAMUS: How long’s he been with you?
STRABO: He’s shy, all right, the lad’s shy . . .
(Ramus displays the various tchotchkes hung on his belt.)
RAMUS: A fetish, a token, which I will trade, for one cup of wine.
STRABO: Absolutely not.
RAMUS: I have a token to dispel bad luck.
STRABO: No.
RAMUS: One cup of wine . . .
STRABO: Go away.
RAMUS: This charm was given to me, by the Great Lupus Albus, White Wolf of Sardinia, when we served in the Tenth African Legion.
STRABO: You served in the Tenth African Legion?
RAMUS: I served beside him. In the snows.
PELARGON: What was the Tenth African Legion doing in the snows?
RAMUS: We were lost. (Pause) And I need a drink.
STRABO: That’s quite a shock.
RAMUS: Because I’m having a particularly hard day.
PELARGON: Why is that?
RAMUS: Because I have just heard they have suffered defeat.
STRABO: Who has suffered defeat?
RAMUS: The Tenth African Legion. My comrades . . . have suffered their first defeat . . .
STRABO: You were never in the Tenth African Legion.
PHILIUS (Reentering; drenched): Strabo . . .
STRABO (To Philius): You look lovely when you’re wet.
PHILIUS: Thank you, Strabo.
STRABO: What did you want to tell me?
PHILIUS: The landlord’s coming.
PELARGON: Oh, no.
PHILIUS (Exiting): I’m going to change my clothes.
STRABO (To Philius): Put on something revealing.
(The landlord, Quintus Magnus, enters.)
QUINTUS: By the gods.
PELARGON: By the gods.
STRABO (To Ramus): We are honored, sir. We are honored. That you chose us.
QUINTUS: Strabo.
STRABO: Quintus. You shouldn’t be out in this weather. One moment—(To Ramus) Chose us, sir, over . . . (To Quintus) He could have hired the Troop of Paulus.
QUINTUS: Strabo . . .
STRABO: He could have hired the Troop of Paulus, beloved of Caesar . . .
QUINTUS: Strabo.
STRABO: But this man of taste chose us.
QUINTUS: Your rent is four months overdue . . .
STRABO: We would have brought it to you, but for this accursed rain . . .
QUINTUS: I came out in the rain . . .
STRABO: You’re a bold man, and I applaud you f
or it.
PHILIUS (Returning; a towel over his head): Achoo.
QUINTUS: The child looks dreadful . . .
STRABO: I would have come, even given the rain—but for my understandable anxiety. My new lead, here, young Philius, has caught a cold. Which, Zeus forfend, might might prohibit him from performing in the upcoming festival for which we’ve been engaged.
QUINTUS: You’ve got a job?
STRABO: This, this man of discernment has come to engage us to open the Sicilian Cork Festival.
(Pause.)
QUINTUS: The Sicilian Cork Festival . . .
STRABO: The honorarium for which will, thank you for waiting, discharge our debts, and restore my troupe, in the eyes of the world, to that position it deserves.
QUINTUS: You’re going to sail to Sicily?
STRABO: In his private trireme.
QUINTUS: This fellow looks like a beggar.
STRABO: Which disguise, sir, has kept him safe, rich as he is, rich as Marcus Rufus Cronax, through travels, through his vast possessions, throughout the Known World. Thank you for waiting, Quintus.
PHILIUS: We’re going to Sicily, Strabo . . . ?
QUINTUS: Before you go, would you pay the rent?
STRABO: Upon the instant. Let me but collect an advance upon the swingeing fee this fine man has offered.
(They turn to Ramus, who is now asleep. Pause.)
Hush, thinking again. Do not wake him. For he has come, battered by the storm, from far-off Sicily. And the journey has fatigued him. Let our benefactor sleep. Sleep on, oh Patron of the Arts.
QUINTUS: Fifty sesterces. Tomorrow morning.
STRABO: When I shall come, sir, with this good man’s “stipend,” in my pocket placing it, gently, no, but not without a sense of triumph, in your sweating hands.
QUINTUS: Or, I’m going to sic the bailiffs on you.
STRABO: How we’ll laugh, tomorrow morning. Recalling those intemperate words . . .
QUINTUS: By the gods.
PELARGON: By the gods.