Cutting

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The opening weekend went rather well. We seem to have sold a lot of tickets; I didn't get the final numbers, but the houses were reasonably full. The Opening Night audience was ready to laugh, and the Saturday audience was not, but they were paying attention. There were some moments that required quick thinking by one of us, but the thinking was done quickly, and the audience (mostly) never noticed a thing.

On Saturday, I cut about a third out of my big monologue. Steve had cut about half a line early in the scene, nothing big but just enough for me to rattle myself. When I went into my big monologue—here it is:

Dont say that, Governor. Dont look at it that way. What am I, Governors both? I ask you, what am I? I'm one of the undeserving poor: thats what I am. Think of what that means to a man. It means that hes up agen middle class morality all the time. If theres anything going, and I put in for a bit of it, it's always the same story: "Youre undeserving; so you cant have it." But my needs is as great as the most deserving widow's that ever got money out of six different charities in one week for the death of the same husband. I dont need less than a deserving man: I need more. I dont eat less hearty than him; and I drink a lot more. I want a bit of amusement, cause I'm a thinking man. I want cheerfulness and a song and a band when I feel low. Well, they charge me just the same for everything as they charge the deserving. What is middle class morality? Just an excuse for never giving me anything. Therefore, I ask you, as two gentlemen, not to play that game on me. I'm playing straight with you. I aint pretending to be deserving. I'm undeserving; and I mean to go on being undeserving. I like it; and thats the truth. Will you take advantage of a man's nature to do him out of the price of his own daughter what hes brought up and fed and clothed by the sweat of his brow until shes growed big enough to be interesting to you two gentlemen? Is five pounds unreasonable? I put it to you; and I leave it to you.

Here's what actually happened. I went along just fine until “I drink a lot more.” At that point, I turned to Higgins and said “Will you take advantage, er, of &#8230” Oh, crap, I've skipped ahead. How can I get back to where I left off? Where did I leave off? Ah, hell with it “… er, a man's own nature…”

Nobody noticed. Well, except Mrs. Pearce.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.

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