ACT TWO: SCENE I

About seven-thirty Friday evening.

Same bunkhouse interior as in last scene.

The evening light is seen coming in through the window, but it is quite dark in the interior of the bunkhouse.

From outside comes the sound of a horseshoe game. Thuds on the dirt and occasional clangs as a shoe hits the peg. Now and then voices are raised in approval or derision : “That’s a good one.” . . . “Goddamn right it’s a good one.” . . . “Here goes for a ringer. I need a ringer.” . . . “Goddamn near got it, too.”

SLIM and GEORGE come into the darkening bunkhouse together. SLIM reaches up and turns on the tin-shaded electric light. Sits down on a box at the table. GEORGE takes his place opposite.

SLIM: It wasn’t nothing. I would of had to drown most of them pups anyway. No need to thank me about that.

GEORGE: Wasn’t much to you, mebbe, but it was a hell of a lot to him. Jesus Christ, I don’t know how we’re gonna get him to sleep in here. He’ll want to stay right out in the barn. We gonna have trouble keepin’ him from gettin’ right in the box with them pups.

SLIM: Say, you sure was right about him. Maybe he ain’t bright—but I never seen such a worker. He damn near killed his partner buckin’ barley. He’d take his end of that sack—[a gesture]—pretty near kill his partner. God Almighty, I never seen such a strong guy.

GEORGE [proudly]: You just tell Lennie what to do and he’ll do it if it don’t take no figuring.

Outside the sound of the horseshoe game goes on: “Son of a bitch if I can win a goddamn game.” . . . “Me neither. You’d think them shoes was anvils.”

SLIM: Funny how you and him string along together.

GEORGE: What’s so funny about it?

SLIM: Oh, I don’t know. Hardly none of the guys ever travels around together. I hardly never seen two guys travel together. You know how the hands are. They come in and get their bunk and work a month and then they quit and go on alone. Never seem to give a damn about nobody. Jest seems kinda funny. A cuckoo like him and a smart guy like you traveling together.

GEORGE: I ain’t so bright neither or I wouldn’t be buckin’ barley for my fifty and found. If I was bright, if I was even a little bit smart, I’d have my own place and I’d be bringin’ in my own crops ’stead of doin’ all the work and not gettin’ what comes up out of the ground. [He falls silent for a moment.]

SLIM: A guy’d like to do that. Sometime I’d like to cuss a string of mules that was my own mules.

GEORGE: It ain’t so funny, him and me goin’ round together. Him and me was both born in Auburn. I knowed his aunt. She took him when he was a baby and raised him up. When his aunt died Lennie jus’ come along with me, out workin’. Got kinda used to each other after a little while.

SLIM: Uh huh.

GEORGE: First I used to have a hell of a lot of fun with him. Used to play jokes on him because he was too dumb to take care of himself. But, hell, he was too dumb even to know when he had a joke played on him. [Sarcastically.] Hell, yes, I had fun! Made me seem goddamn smart alongside of him.

SLIM: I seen it that way.

GEORGE: Why, he’d do any damn thing I tole him. If I tole him to walk over a cliff, over he’d go. You know that wasn’t so damn much fun after a while. He never got mad about it, neither. I’ve beat hell out of him and he could bust every bone in my body jest with his hands. But he never lifted a finger against me.

SLIM [braiding a bull whip]: Even if you socked him, wouldn’t he?

GEORGE: No, by God! I tell you what made me stop playing jokes. One day a bunch of guys was standin’ aroun’ up on the Sacramento River. I was feelin’ pretty smart. I turns to Lennie and I says, “Jump in.”

SLIM: What happened?

GEORGE: He jumps. Couldn’t swim a stroke. He damn near drowned. And he was so nice to me for pullin’ him out. Clean forgot I tole him to jump in. Well, I ain’t done nothin’ like that no more. Makes me kinda sick tellin’ about it.

SLIM: He’s a nice fella. A guy don’t need no sense to be a nice fella. Seems to be sometimes it’s jest the other way round. Take a real smart guy, he ain’t hardly ever a nice fella.

GEORGE [stacking the scattered cards and getting his solitaire game ready again]: I ain’t got no people. I seen guys that go round on the ranches alone. That ain’t no good. They don’t have no fun. After a while they get mean.

SLIM [quietly]: Yeah, I seen ’em get mean. I seen ’em get so they don’t want to talk to nobody. Some ways they got to. You take a bunch of guys all livin’ in one room an’ by God they got to mind their own business. ’Bout the only private thing a guy’s got is where he come from and where he’s goin’.

GEORGE: ’Course Lennie’s a goddamn nuisance most of the time. But you get used to goin’ round with a guy and you can’t get rid of him. I mean you get used to him an’ you can’t get rid of bein’ used to him. I’m sure drippin’ at the mouth. I ain’t told nobody all this before.

SLIM: Do you want to git rid of him?

GEORGE: Well, he gets in trouble all the time. Because he’s so goddamn dumb. Like what happened in Weed. [He stops, alarmed at what he has said.] You wouldn’t tell nobody?

SLIM [calmly]: What did he do in Weed?

GEORGE: You wouldn’t tell?—No, course you wouldn’t.

SLIM: What did he do?

GEORGE: Well, he seen this girl in a red dress. Dumb bastard like he is he wants to touch everything he likes. Jest wants to feel of it. So he reaches out to feel this red dress. Girl lets out a squawk and that gets Lennie all mixed up. He holds on ’cause that’s the only thing he can think to do. SLIM: The hell!

GEORGE: Well, this girl squawks her head off. I’m right close and I hear all the yellin’, so I comes a-running. By that time Lennie’s scared to death. You know, I had to sock him over the head with a fence picket to make him let go.

SLIM: So what happens then?

GEORGE [carefully building his solitaire hand ]: Well, she runs in and tells the law she’s been raped. The guys in Weed start out to lynch Lennie. So there we sit in an irrigation ditch, under water all the rest of that day. Got only our heads sticking out of water, up under the grass that grows out of the side of the ditch. That night we run outa there.

SLIM: Didn’t hurt the girl none, huh?

GEORGE: Hell no, he jes’ scared her.

SLIM: He’s a funny guy.

GEORGE: Funny! Why, one time, you know what that big baby done! He was walking along a road—[Enter LENNIE through the door. He wears his coat over his shoulder like a cape and walks hunched over.] Hi, Lennie. How do you like your pup?

LENNIE [breathlessly]: He’s brown and white jus’ like I wanted. [Goes directly to his bunk and lies down. Face to the wall and knees drawn up.]

GEORGE [puts down his cards deliberately]: Lennie!

LENNIE [over his shoulder]: Huh? What you want George?

GEORGE [sternly]: I tole ya, ya couldn’t bring that pup in here.

LENNIE: What pup, George? I ain’t got no pup.

GEORGE goes quickly over to him, grabs him by the shoulder and rolls him over. He picks up a tiny puppy from where LENNIE has been concealing it against his stomach.

LENNIE [quickly]: Give him to me, George.

GEORGE: You get right up and take this pup to the nest. He’s got to sleep with his mother. Ya want ta kill him? Jes’ born last night and ya take him out of the nest. Ya take him back or I’ll tell Slim not to let you have him.

LENNIE [pleadingly]: Give him to me, George. I’ll take him back. I didn’t mean no bad thing, George. Honest I didn’t. I jus’ want to pet him a little.

GEORGE [giving the pup to him]: All right, you get him back there quick. And don’t you take him out no more. [LENNIE scuttles out of the room.]

SLIM: Jesus, he’s just like a kid, ain’t he?

GEORGE: Sure he’s like a kid. There ain’t no more harm in him than a kid neither, except he’s so strong. I bet he won’t come in here to sleep tonight. He’ll sleep right alongside that box in the barn. Well, let him. He ain’t doin’ no harm out there. [The light has faded out outside and it appears quite dark outside. Enter CANDY leading his old dog by a string.]

CANDY: Hello, Slim. Hello, George. Didn’t neither of you play horseshoes?

SLIM: I don’t like to play every night.

CANDY [goes to his bunk and sits down, presses the old blind dog to the floor beside him]: Either you guys got a slug of whiskey? I got a gut ache.

SLIM: I ain’t. I’d drink it myself if I had. And I ain’t got no gut ache either.

CANDY: Goddamn cabbage give it to me. I knowed it was goin’ to before I ever et it. [Enter CARLSON and WHIT.]

CARLSON: Jesus, how that nigger can pitch shoes!

SLIM: He’s plenty good.

WHIT: Damn right he is.

CARLSON: Yeah. He don’t give nobody else a chance to win. [Stops and sniffs the air. Looks around until he sees CANDY’S dog.] God Almighty, that dog stinks. Get him outa here, Candy. I don’t know nothing that stinks as bad as ole dogs. You got to get him outa here.

CANDY [lying down on his bunk, reaches over and pats the ancient dog, speaks softly]: I been round him so much I never notice how he stinks.

CARLSON: Well, I can’t stand him in here. That stink hangs round even after he’s gone. [Walks over and stands looking down at the dog.] Got no teeth. All stiff with rheumatism. He ain’t no good to you, Candy. Why don’t you shoot him?

CANDY [uncomfortably]: Well, hell, I had him so long! Had him since he was a pup. I herded sheep with him. [Proudly.] You wouldn’t think it to look at him now. He was the best damn sheep dog I ever seen.

GEORGE: I knowed a guy in Weed that had an airedale that could herd sheep. Learned it from the other dogs.

CARLSON [sticking to his point]: Lookit, Candy. This ole dog jus’ suffers itself all the time. If you was to take him out and shoot him—right in the back of the head . . . [Leans over and points.] . . . right there, why he never’d know what hit him.

CANDY [unhappily]: No, I couldn’t do that. I had him too long.

CARLSON [insisting]: He don’t have no fun no more. He stinks like hell. Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll shoot him for you. Then it won’t be you that done it.

CANDY [sits up on the bunk, rubbing his whiskers nervously, speaks plaintively]: I had him from a pup.

WHIT: Let ’im alone, Carl. It ain’t a guy’s dog that matters. It’s the way the guy feels about the dog. Hell, I had a mutt once I wouldn’t a traded for a field trial pointer.

CARLSON [being persuasive]: Well, Candy ain’t being nice to him, keeping him alive. Lookit, Slim’s bitch got a litter right now. I bet you Slim would give ya one of them pups to raise up, wouldn’t ya, Slim?

SLIM [studying the dog]: Yeah. You can have a pup if you want to.

CANDY [helplessly]: Mebbe it would hurt. [After a moment’s pause, positively.] And I don’t mind taking care of him.

CARLSON: Aw, he’d be better off dead. The way I’d shoot him he wouldn’t feel nothin’. I’d put the gun right there. [Points with his toe.] Right back of the head.

WHIT: Aw, let ’im alone, Carl.

CARLSON: Why, hell, he wouldn’t even quiver.

WHIT: Let ’im alone. [He produces a magazine.] Say, did you see this? Did you see this in the book here?

CARLSON: See what?

WHIT: Right there. Read that.

CARLSON: I don’t want to read nothing. . . . It’d be all over in a minute, Candy. Come on.

WHIT: Did you see it, Slim? Go on, read it. Read it out loud.

SLIM: What is it?

WHIT: Read it.

SLIM [reads slowly]: “Dear Editor: I read your mag for six years and I think it is the best on the market. I like stories by Peter Rand. I think he is a whing-ding. Give us more like the Dark Rider. I don’t write many letters. Just thought I would tell you I think your mag is the best dime’s worth I ever spen’.” [Looks up questioningly.] What you want me to read that for?

WHIT: Go on, read the name at the bottom.

SLIM [reading]: “Yours for Success, William Tenner.” [Looks up at WHIT.] What ya want me to read that for?

CARLSON: Come on, Candy—what you say?

WHIT [taking the magazine and closing it impressively. Talks to cover CARLSON]: You don’t remember Bill Tenner? Worked here about three months ago?

SLIM [thinking]: Little guy? Drove a cultivator?

WHIT: That’s him. That’s the guy.

CARLSON [has refused to be drawn into this conversation]: Look, Candy. If you want me to, I’ll put the old devil outa his misery right now and get it over with. There ain’t nothin’ left for him. Can’t eat, can’t see, can’t hardly walk. Tomorrow you can pick one of Slim’s pups.

SLIM: Sure . . . I got a lot of ’em.

CANDY [hopefully]: You ain’t got no gun.

CARLSON: The hell, I ain’t. Got a Luger. It won’t hurt him none at all.

CANDY: Mebbe tomorrow. Let’s wait till tomorrow.

CARLSON: I don’t see no reason for it. [Goes to his bunk, pulls a bag from underneath, takes a Luger pistol out.] Let’s get it over with. We can’t sleep with him stinking around in here. [He snaps a shell into the chamber, sets the safety and puts the pistol into his hip pocket.]

SLIM [as Candy looks toward him for help]: Better let him go, Candy.

CANDY [looks at each person for some hope. WHIT makes a gesture of protest and then resigns himself. The others look away, to avoid responsibility. At last, very softly and hopelessly]: All right. Take him.

He doesn’t look down at the dog at all. Lies back on his bunk and crosses his arms behind his head and stares at the ceiling. CARLSON picks up the string, helps the dog to its feet.

CARLSON: Come, boy. Come on, boy. [To CANDY, apologetically. ] He won’t even feel it. [CANDY does not move nor answer him.] Come on, boy. That’s the stuff. Come on. [He leads the dog toward the door.]

SLIM: Carlson?

CARLSON: Yeah.

SLIM [curtly]: Take a shovel.

CARLSON: Oh, sure, I get you.

Exit CARLSON with the dog. GEORGE follows to the door, shuts it carefully and sets the latch. CANDY lies rigidly on his bunk. The next scene is one of silence and quick staccato speeches.

SLIM [loudly]: One of my lead mules got a bad hoof. Got to get some tar on it. [There is a silence.]

GEORGE [loudly]: Anybody like to play a little euchre?

WHIT: I’ll lay out a few with you.

They take places opposite each other at the table but GEORGE does not shuffle the cards. He ripples the edge of the deck. Everybody looks over at him. He stops. Silence again.

SLIM [compassionately]: Candy, you can have any of them pups you want. [There is no answer from CANDY. There is a little gnawing noise on the stage.]

GEORGE: Sounds like there was a rat under there. We ought to set a trap there. [Deep silence again.]

WHIT [exasperated]: What the hell is takin’ him so long? Lay out some cards, why don’t you? We ain’t gonna get no euchre played this way.

GEORGE studies the backs of the cards. And after a long silence there is a shot in the distance. All the men start a bit, look quickly at CANDY. For a moment he continues to stare at the ceiling and then rolls slowly over and faces the wall. GEORGE shuffles the cards noisily and deals them.

GEORGE: Well, let’s get to it.

WHIT [still to cover the moment]: Yeah . . . I guess you guys really come here to work, huh?

GEORGE: How do you mean?

WHIT [chuckles]: Well, you come on a Friday. You got two days to work till Sunday.

GEORGE: I don’t see how you figure.

WHIT: You do if you been round these big ranches much. A guy that wants to look over a ranch comes in Saturday afternoon. He gets Saturday night supper, three meals on Sunday and he can quit Monday morning after breakfast without turning a hand. But you come to work on Friday noon. You got ta put in a day and a half no matter how ya figure it.

GEORGE [quietly]: We’re goin’ stick around awhile. Me and Lennie’s gonna roll up a stake. [Door opens and the Negro stable buck puts in his head. A lean-faced Negro with pained eyes.]

CROOKS: Mr. Slim.

SLIM [who has been watching CANDY the whole time]: Huh? Oh, hello, Crooks, what’s the matter?

CROOKS: You tole me to warm up tar for that mule’s foot. I got it warm now.

SLIM: Oh, sure, Crooks. I’ll come right out and put it on.

CROOKS: I can do it for you if you want, Mr. Slim.

SLIM [standing up]: Naw, I’ll take care of my own team.

CROOKS: Mr. Slim.

SLIM: Yeah.

CROOKS: That big new guy is messing round your pups in the barn.

SLIM: Well, he ain’t doin’ no harm. I give him one of them pups.

CROOKS: Just thought I’d tell ya. He’s takin’ ’em out of the nest and handling ’em. That won’t do ’em no good.

SLIM: Oh, he won’t hurt ’em.

GEORGE [looks up from his cards]: If that crazy bastard is foolin’ round too much jus’ kick him out. [SLIM follows the stable buck out.]

WHIT [examining his cards]: Seen the new kid yet?

GEORGE: What kid?

WHIT: Why, Curley’s new wife.

GEORGE [cautiously]: Yeah, I seen her.

WHIT: Well, ain’t she a lulu?

GEORGE: I ain’t seen that much of her.

WHIT: Well, you stick around and keep your eyes open. You’ll see plenty of her. I never seen nobody like her. She’s just workin’ on everybody all the time. Seems like she’s even workin’ on the stable buck. I don’t know what the hell she wants.

GEORGE [casually]: Been any trouble since she got here? [Obviously neither man is interested in the card game. WHIT lays down his hand and GEORGE gathers the cards in and lays out a solitaire hand.]

WHIT: I see what you mean. No, they ain’t been no trouble yet. She’s only been here a couple of weeks. Curley’s got yellow jackets in his drawers, but that’s all so far. Every time the guys is around she shows up. She’s lookin’ for Curley. Or she thought she left somethin’ layin’ around and she’s lookin’ for that. Seems like she can’t keep away from guys. And Curley’s runnin’ round like a cat lookin’ for a dirt road. But they ain’t been no trouble. GEORGE: Ranch with a bunch of guys on it ain’t no place for a girl. Specially like her.

WHIT: If she’s give you any ideas you ought to come in town with us guys tomorrow night.

GEORGE: Why, what’s doin’?

WHIT: Just the usual thing. We go in to old Susy’s place. Hell of a nice place. Old Susy is a laugh. Always cracking jokes. Like she says when we come up on the front porch last Saturday night: Susy opens the door and she yells over her shoulder: “Get your coats on, girls, here comes the sheriff.” She never talks dirty neither. Got five girls there. GEORGE: What does it set you back?

WHIT: Two and a half. You can get a shot of whiskey for fifteen cents. Susy got nice chairs to set in too. If a guy don’t want to flop, why, he can just set in them chairs and have a couple or three shots and just pass the time of day. Susy don’t give a damn. She ain’t rushin’ guys through, or kicking them out if they don’t want to flop.

GEORGE: Might go in and look the joint over.

WHIT: Sure. Come along. It’s a hell of a lot of fun—her crackin’ jokes all the time. Like she says one time, she says: “I’ve knew people that if they got a rag rug on the floor and a kewpie doll lamp on the phonograph they think they’re runnin’ a parlor house.” That’s Gladys’s house she’s talkin’ about. And Susy says: “I know what you boys want,” she says: “My girls is clean,” she says. “And there ain’t no water in my whiskey,” she says. “If any you guys want to look at a kewpie doll lamp and take your chance of gettin’ burned, why, you know where to go.” She says: “They’s guys round here walkin’ bowlegged because they liked to look at a kewpie doll lamp.”

GEORGE: Gladys runs the other house, huh?

WHIT: Yeah. [Enter CARLSON. CANDY looks at him.]

CARLSON: God, it’s a dark night. [Goes to his bunk; starts cleaning his pistol.]

WHIT: We don’t never go to Gladys’s. Gladys gits three bucks, and two bits a shot and she don’t crack no jokes. But Susy’s place is clean and she got nice chairs. A guy can set in there like he lived there. Don’t let no Manila Goo-Goos in, neither.

GEORGE: Aw, I don’t know. Me and Lennie’s rollin’ up a stake. I might go in and set and have a shot, but I ain’t puttin’ out no two and a half.

WHIT: Well, a guy got to have some fun sometimes. [Enter LENNIE. LENNIE creeps to his bunk and sits down.]

GEORGE: Didn’t bring him back in, did you, Lennie?

LENNIE: No, George, honest I didn’t. See?

WHIT: Say, how about this euchre game?

GEORGE: Okay. I didn’t think you wanted to play. [Enter CURLEY excitedly.]

CURLEY: Any you guys seen my wife?

WHIT: She ain’t been here.

CURLEY [looks theateningly about the room]: Where the hell’s Slim?

GEORGE: Went out in the barn. He was goin’ put some tar on a split hoof.

CURLEY: How long ago did he go?

GEORGE: Oh, five, ten miutes. [CURLEY jumps out the door.]

WHIT [standing up]: I guess maybe I’d like to see this. Curley must be spoilin’ or he wouldn’t start for Slim. Curley’s handy, goddamn handy. But just the same he better leave Slim alone.

GEORGE: Thinks Slim’s with his wife, don’t he?

WHIT: Looks like it. ’Course Slim ain’t. Least I don’t think Slim is. But I like to see the fuss if it comes off. Come on, le’s go.

GEORGE: I don’t want to git mixed up in nothing. Me and Lennie got to make a stake.

CARLSON [finishes cleaning gun, puts it in his bag and stands up]: I’ll look her over. Ain’t seen a good fight in a hell of a while. [WHIT and CARLSON exeunt.]

GEORGE: You see Slim out in the barn?

LENNIE: Sure. He tole me I better not pet that pup no more, like I said.

GEORGE: Did you see that girl out there?

LENNIE: You mean Curley’s girl?

GEORGE: Yeah. Did she come in the barn?

LENNIE [cautiously]: No—anyways I never seen her.

GEORGE: You never seen Slim talkin’ to her?

LENNIE: Uh-uh. She ain’t been in the barn.

GEORGE: Okay. I guess them guys ain’t gonna see no fight. If they’s any fightin’, Lennie, ya get out of the way and stay out.

LENNIE: I don’t want no fight. [George lays out his solitaire hand. LENNIE picks up a face card and studies it. Turns it over and studies it again.] Both ends the same. George, why is it both ends the same?

GEORGE: I don’t know. That jus’ the way they make ’em. What was Slim doin’ in the barn when you seen him?

LENNIE: Slim?

GEORGE: Sure, you seen him in the barn. He tole you not to pet the pups so much.

LENNIE: Oh. Yeah. He had a can of tar and a paint brush. I don’t know what for.

GEORGE: You sure that girl didn’t come in like she come in here today?

LENNIE: No, she never come.

GEORGE [sighs]: You give me a good whorehouse every time. A guy can go in and get drunk and get it over all at once and no messes. And he knows how much it’s goin’ set him back. These tarts is jus’ buckshot to a guy. [LENNIE listens with admiration, moving his lips, and GEORGE continues.] You remember Andy Cushman, Lennie? Went to grammar school same time as us?

LENNIE: The one that his ole lady used to make hot cakes for the kids?

GEORGE: Yeah. That’s the one. You can remember if they’s somepin’ to eat in it. [Scores up some cards in his solitaire playing.] Well, Andy’s in San Quentin right now on account of a tart.

LENNIE: George?

GEORGE: Huh?

LENNIE: How long is it goin’ be till we git that little place to live on the fat of the land?

GEORGE: I don’t know. We gotta get a big stake together. I know a little place we can get cheap, but they ain’t givin’ it away. [CANDY turns slowly over and watches GEORGE.]

LENNIE: Tell about that place, George.

GEORGE: I jus’ tole you. Jus’ last night.

LENNIE: Go on, tell again.

GEORGE: Well, it’s ten acres. Got a little windmill. Got a little shack on it and a chicken run. Got a kitchen orchard. Cherries, apples, peaches, ’cots and nuts. Got a few berries. There’s a place for alfalfa and plenty water to flood it. There’s a pig pen. . . .

LENNIE [breaking in]: And rabbits, George?

GEORGE: I could easy build a few hutches. And you could feed alfalfa to them rabbits.

LENNIE: Damn right I could. [Excitedly.] You goddamn right I could.

GEORGE [his voice growing warmer.] And we could have a few pigs. I’d build a smokehouse. And when we kill a pig we could smoke the hams. When the salmon run up the river we can catch a hundred of ’em. Every Sunday we’d kill a chicken or rabbit. Mebbe we’ll have a cow or a goat. And the cream is so goddamn thick you got to cut it off the pan with a knife.

LENNIE [watching him with wide eyes, softly]: We can live off the fat of the land.

GEORGE: Sure. All kinds of vegetables in the garden and if we want a little whiskey we can sell some eggs or somethin’. And we wouldn’t sleep in no bunkhouse. Nobody could can us in the middle of a job.

LENNIE [begging]: Tell about the house, George.

GEORGE: Sure. We’d have a little house. And a room to ourselves. And it ain’t enough land so we’d have to work too hard. Mebbe six, seven hours a day only. We wouldn’t have to buck no barley eleven hours a day. And when we put in a crop, why we’d be there to take that crop up. We’d know what come of our planting.

LENNIE [eagerly]: And rabbits. And I’d take care of them. Tell how I’d do that, George.

GEORGE: Sure. You’d go out in the alfalfa patch and you’d have a sack. You’d fill up the sack and bring it in and put it in the rabbit cages.

LENNIE: They’d nibble and they’d nibble, the way they do. I seen ’em.

GEORGE: Every six weeks or so them does would throw a litter. So we’d have plenty rabbits to eat or sell. [Pauses for inspiration.] And we’d keep a few pigeons to go flying round and round the windmill, like they done when I was a kid. [Seems entranced .] And it’d be our own. And nobody could can us. If we don’t like a guy we can say: “Get to hell out,” and by God he’s got to do it. And if a friend come along, why, we’d have an extra bunk. Know what we’d say? We’d say, “Why don’t you spen’ the night?” And by God he would. We’d have a setter dog and a couple of striped cats. [Looks sharply at LENNIE.] But you gotta watch out them cats don’t get the little rabbits.

LENNIE [breathing hard]: You jus’ let ’em try. I’ll break their goddamn necks. I’ll smash them cats flat with a stick. I’d smash ’em flat with a stick. That’s what I’d do. [They sit silently for a moment.]

CANDY [at the sound of his voice, both LENNIE and GEORGE jump as though caught in some secret]: You know where’s a place like that?

GEORGE [solemnly]: S’pose I do, what’s that to you?

CANDY: You don’t need to tell me where it’s at. Might be any place.

GEORGE [relieved]: Sure. That’s right, you couldn’t find it in a hundred years.

CANDY [excitedly]: How much they want for a place like that?

GEORGE [grudgingly]: Well, I could get it for six hundred bucks. The ole people that owns it is flat bust. And the ole lady needs medicine. Say, what’s it to you? You got nothing to do with us!

CANDY [softly]: I ain’t much good with only one hand. I lost my hand right here on the ranch. That’s why they didn’t can me. They give me a job swampin’. And they give me two hundred and fifty dollars ’cause I lost my hand. An’ I got fifty more saved up right in the bank right now. That’s three hundred. And I got forty more comin’ the end of the month. Tell you what . . . [He leans forward eagerly.] S’pose I went in with you guys? That’s three hundred and forty bucks I’d put in. I ain’t much good, but I could cook and tend the chickens and hoe the garden some. How’d that be?

GEORGE [his eyes half closed, uncertainly]: I got to think about that. We was always goin’ to do it by ourselves. Me an’ Lennie. I never thought of nobody else.

CANDY: I’d make a will. Leave my share to you guys in case I kicked off. I ain’t got no relations nor nothing. You fellas got any money? Maybe we could go there right now.

GEORGE [disgustedly]: We got ten bucks between us. [He thinks.] Say, look. If me and Lennie work a month and don’t spend nothing at all, we’ll have a hundred bucks. That would be four forty. I bet we could swing her for that. Then you and Lennie could go get her started and I’d get a job and make up the rest. You could sell eggs and stuff like that. [They look at each other in amazement. Reverently.] Jesus Christ, I bet we could swing her. [His voice is full of wonder.] I bet we could swing ’er.

CANDY [scratches the stump of his wrist nervously]: I got hurt four years ago. They’ll can me pretty soon. Jest as soon as I can’t swamp out no bunkhouses they’ll put me on the county. Maybe if I give you guys my money, you’ll let me hoe in the garden, even when I ain’t no good at it. And I’ll wash dishes and little chicken stuff like that. But hell, I’ll be on our own place. I’ll be let to work on our own place. [Miserably.] You seen what they done to my dog. They says he wasn’t no good to himself nor nobody else. But when I’m that way nobody’ll shoot me. I wish somebody would. They won’t do nothing like that. I won’t have no place to go and I can’t get no more jobs.

GEORGE [stands up]: We’ll do ’er! God damn, we’ll fix up that little ole place and we’ll go live there. [Wonderingly.] S’pose they was a carnival, or a circus come to town or a ball game or any damn thing. [CANDY nods in appreciation. ] We’d just go to her. We wouldn’t ask nobody if we could. Just say we’ll go to her, by God, and we would. Just milk the cow and sling some grain to the chickens and go to her.

LENNIE: And put some grass to the rabbits. I wouldn’t forget to feed them. When we gonna to do it, George?

GEORGE [decisively]: In one month. Right squack in one month. Know what I’m gonna do? I’m goin’ write to them ole people that owns the place that we’ll take ’er. And Candy’ll send a hundred dollars to bind her.

CANDY [happily]: I sure will. They got a good stove there?

GEORGE: Sure, got a nice stove. Burns coal or wood.

LENNIE: I’m gonna take my pup. I bet by Christ he likes it there. [The window, center backstage, swings outward. CURLEY’S WIFE looks in. They do not see her.]

GEORGE [quickly]: Now don’t tell nobody about her. Jus’ us three and nobody else. They’ll liable to can us so we can’t make no stake. We’ll just go on like we was a bunch of punks. Like we was gonna buck barley the rest of our lives. And then all of a sudden, one day, bang! We get our pay and scram out of here.

CANDY: I can give you three hundred right now.

LENNIE: And not tell nobody. We won’t tell nobody, George.

GEORGE: You’re goddamn right we won’t. [There is a silence and then GEORGE speaks irritably.] You know, seems to me I can almost smell that carnation stuff that goddamn tart dumps on herself.

CURLEY’S WIFE [in the first part of the speech by GEORGE she starts to step out of sight but at the last words her face darkens with anger. At her first words everybody in the room looks around at her and remains rigid during her tirade]: Who you callin’ a tart! I come from a nice home. I was brung up by nice people. Nobody never got to me before I was married. I was straight. I tell you I was good. [A little plaintively.] I was. [Angrily again.] You know Curley. You know he wouldn’t stay with me if he wasn’t sure. I tell you Curley is sure. You got no right to call me a tart.

GEORGE [sullenly]: If you ain’t a tart, what you always hangin’ round guys for? You got a house an’ you got a man. We don’t want no trouble from you.

CURLEY’S WIFE [pleadingly]: Sure I got a man. He ain’t never home. I got nobody to talk to. I got nobody to be with. Think I can just sit home and do nothin’ but cook for Curley? I want to see somebody. Just see ’em an’ talk to ’em. There ain’t no women. I can’t walk to town. And Curley don’t take me to no dances now. I tell you I jus’ want to talk to somebody.

GEORGE [boldly]: If you’re just friendly what you givin’ out the eye for an’ floppin’ your can around?

CURLEY’S WIFE [sadly]: I just wanta be nice.

The sound of approaching voices. “You don’t have to get mad about it, do you?” . . . “I ain’t mad, but I just don’t want no more questions, that’s all. I just don’t want no more questions.”

GEORGE: Get goin’. We don’t want no trouble.

CURLEY’S WIFE looks from the window and closes it silently and disappears. Enter SLIM, followed by CURLEY , CARLSON and WHIT. SLIM’S hands are black with tar. CURLEY hangs close to his elbow.

CURLEY [explaining]: Well, I didn’t mean nothing, Slim. I jus’ ast you.

SLIM: Well, you been askin’ too often. I’m gettin’ goddamn sick of it. If you can’t look after your own wife, what you expect me to do about it? You lay off of me.

CURLEY: I’m jus’ tryin’ to tell you I didn’t mean nothing. I just thought you might of saw her.

CARLSON: Why don’t you tell her to stay the hell home where she belongs? You let her hang around the bunkhouses and pretty soon you’re goin’ have somethin’ on your hands.

CURLEY [whirls on CARLSON]: You keep out of this ’less you want ta step outside.

CARLSON [laughing]: Why you goddamn punk. You tried to throw a scare into Slim and you couldn’t make it stick. Slim throwed a scare into you. You’re yellow as a frog’s belly. I don’t care if you’re the best boxer in the country, you come for me and I’ll kick your goddamn head off.

WHIT [joining in the attack]: Glove full of vaseline!

CURLEY [glares at him, then suddenly sniffs the air, like a hound]: By God, she’s been in here: I can smell—By God, she’s been in here. [To GEORGE.] You was here. The other guys was outside. Now, God damn you—you talk.

GEORGE [looks worried. He seems to make up his mind to face an inevitable situation. Stands up. Slowly takes off his coat, and folds it almost daintily. Speaks in an unemotional monotone]: Somebody got to beat the hell outa you. I guess I’m elected. [LENNIE has been watching, fascinated. He gives his high, nervous chuckle.]

CURLEY [whirls on him]: What the hell you laughin’ at?

LENNIE [blankly]: Huh?

CURLEY [exploding with rage]: Come on, you big bastard. Get up on your feet. No big son-of-a-bitch is gonna laugh at me. I’ll show you who’s yellow.

LENNIE looks helplessly at GEORGE. Gets up and tries to retreat upstage. CURLEY follows slashing at him. The others mass themselves in front of the two contestants. “That ain’t no way, Curley—he ain’t done nothing to you.” . . . “Lay off him, will you, Curley. He ain’t no fighter.” . . . “Sock him back, big guy! Don’t be afraid of him!” . . . “Give him a chance, Curley. Give him a chance.”

LENNIE [crying with terror]: George, make him leave me alone, George.

GEORGE: Get him, Lennie. Get him! [There is a sharp cry. The gathering of men opens and CURLEY is flopping about, his hand lost in LENNIE’S hand.] Let go of him, Lennie. Let go! [“He’s got his hand!” . . . “Look at that, will you?” . . . “Jesus, what a guy!” LENNIE watches in terror the flopping man he holds. LENNIE’S face is covered with blood. GEORGE slaps LENNIE in the face again and again. CURLEY is weak and shrunken.] Let go his hand, Lennie. Slim, come help me, while this guy’s got any hand left. [Suddenly LENNIE lets go. He cowers away from GEORGE.]

LENNIE: You told me to, George. I heard you tell me to. [CURLEY has dropped to the floor. SLIM and CARLSON bend over him and look at his hand. SLIM looks over at LENNIE with horror.]

SLIM: We got to get him to a doctor. It looks to me like every bone in his hand is busted.

LENNIE [crying]: I didn’t wanta. I didn’t wanta hurt ’im.

SLIM: Carlson, you get the Candy wagon out. He’ll have to go into Soledad and get his hand fixed up. [Turns to the whimpering LENNIE.]It ain’t your fault. This punk had it comin’ to him. But Jesus—he ain’t hardly got no hand left.

GEORGE [moving near]: Slim, will we git canned now? Will Curley’s ole man can us now?

SLIM: I don’t know. [Kneels down beside CURLEY.] You got your sense enough to listen? [CURLEY nods.] Well, then you listen. I think you got your hand caught in a machine. If you don’t tell nobody what happened, we won’t. But you jest tell and try to get this guy canned and we’ll tell everybody. And then will you get the laugh! [Helps CURLEY to his feet.] Come on now. Carlson’s goin’ to take you in to a doctor. [Starts for the door, turns back to LENNIE.] Le’s see your hands. [LENNIE sticks out both hands.] Christ Almighty!

GEORGE: Lennie was just scairt. He didn’t know what to do. I tole you nobody ought never to fight him. No, I guess it was Candy I tole.

CANDY [solemnly]: That’s just what you done. Right this morning when Curley first lit into him. You says he better not fool with Lennie if he knows what’s good for him. [They all leave the stage except GEORGE and LENNIE and CANDY.]

GEORGE [to LENNIE, very gently]: It ain’t your fault. You don’t need to be scairt no more. You done jus’ what I tole you to. Maybe you better go in the washroom and clean up your face. You look like hell.

LENNIE: I didn’t want no trouble.

GEORGE: Come on—I’ll go with you.

LENNIE: George?

GEORGE: What you want?

LENNIE: Can I still tend the rabbits, George?

They exeunt together, side by side, through the door of the bunkhouse.

CURTAIN

ACT TWO: SCENE I

ACT TWO: SCENE II