Harry monologue (Act 1) — Plays

I'm coming to believe people would do anything! (TOM _is making another inquiry with the revolver_) No! not here. Don't shoot yourself. (_trying hard to get the word through_) _Shoot_ yourself. I mean--don't, (_petulantly to_ DICK) It's ridiculous that you can't make a man understand you when he looks right at you like that. (_turning back to_ TOM) Read my lips. Lips. I'm saying--Oh damn. Where is Claire? All right--I'll explain it with motions. We wanted the salt ... (_going over it to himself_) and Claire wouldn't let us go out for it on account of the temperature. Salt. Temperature. (_takes his egg-cup to the door, violent motion of shaking in salt_) But--no (_shakes his head_) No salt. (_he then takes the thermometer, a flower pot, holds them up to_ TOM) On account of the temperature. Tem-per-a--(TOM _is not getting it_) Oh--well, what can you do when a man don't _get_ a thing? (TOM _seems to be preparing the revolver for action_. HARRY _pounds on the inner door_) Claire! Do you want Tom to shoot himself?