Free Broken Glass by Arthur Miller Page B

resentment mounting: But how could you say such a thing! It’s an outrage, Gellburg!
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Gellburg takes a step to leave and goes to his knees, clutching his chest, trying to breathe, his face reddening.
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CASE: What is it? Gellburg? He springs up and goes to the periphery. Call an ambulance! Hurry, for God’s sake! He rushes out, shouting: Quick, get a doctor! It’s Gellburg! Gellburg has collapsed!
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Gellburg remains on his hands and knees trying to keep from falling over, gasping.
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Blackout.

SCENE FOUR
    Sylvia in wheelchair, Margaret and Harriet seated on either side of her. Sylvia is sipping a cup of cocoa.
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HARRIET: He’s really amazing, after such an attack.
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MARGARET: The heart is a muscle; muscles can recover sometimes.
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HARRIET: I still can’t understand how they let him out of the hospital so soon.
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MARGARET: He has a will of iron. But it may be just as well for him here.
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SYLVIA: He wants to die here.
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MARGARET: No one can know, he can live a long time.
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SYLVIA, handing her the cup: Thanks. I haven’t drunk cocoa in years.
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MARGARET: I find it soothes the nerves.
    SYLVIA, with a slight ironical edge: He wants to be here so we can have a talk, that’s what it is. Shakes her head. How stupid it all is; you keep putting everything off like you’re going to live a thousand years. But we’re like those little flies-born in the morning, fly around for a day till it gets dark-and bye-bye.
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HARRIET: Well, it takes time to learn things.
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SYLVIA: There’s nothing I know now that I didn’t know twenty years ago. I just didn’t say it. Grasping the chair wheels. Help me! I want to go to him.
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MARGARET: Wait till Harry says it’s all right.
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HARRIET: Sylvia, please-let the doctor decide.
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MARGARET: I hope you’re not blaming yourself.
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HARRIET: It could happen to anybody— To Margaret. Our father, for instance-laid down for his nap one afternoon and never woke up. To Sylvia. Remember?
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SYLVIA, a wan smile, nods: He was the same way all his life —never wanted to trouble anybody.
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HARRIET: And just the day before he went and bought a new bathing suit. And an amber holder for his cigar. To Sylvia —She’s right, you mustn’t start blaming yourself.
    SYLVIA, a shrug: What’s the difference? Sighs tiredly-stares. Basically to Margaret. The trouble, you see-was that Phillip always thought he was supposed to be the Rock of Gibraltar. Like nothing could ever bother him. Supposedly. But I knew a couple of months after we got married that he ... he was making it all up. In fact, I thought I was stronger than him. But what can you do? You swallow it and make believe you’re weaker. And after a while you can’t find a true word to put in your mouth. And now I end up useless to him... starting to weep, just when he needs me!
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HARRIET, distressed, stands: I’m making a gorgeous pot roast, can I bring some over?
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SYLVIA: Thanks, Flora’s going to cook something.
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HARRIET: I’ll call you later, try to rest. Moves to leave, halts, unable to hold back. I refuse to believe that you’re blaming yourself for this. How can people start saying what they know?—there wouldn’t be two marriages left in Brooklyn! Nearly overcome. It’s ridiculous!—you’re the best wife he could have had!—better! She hurries out. Pause.
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MARGARET: I worked in the pediatric ward for a couple of years. And sometimes we’d have thirty or forty babies in there at the same time. A day or two old and they’ve already got a personality; this one lays there, stiff as a mummy ... mimes a mummy, hands closed in fists, a regular banker. The next one is throwing himself all over the place ... wildly flinging her arms, happy as a young horse. The next one is Miss Dreary, already worried about her hemline