ISHTAR, in her hospital room. Sitting on a chair. A heavy dressing on the left side of her chest, to which a long, thin, flexible tube is attached. Red liquid is draining through the into a bottle, hanging on a walking stand. She can move around freely, followed by the stand. Her suitcase is packed.
ISHTAR: I've called mother. I will stay with her over the next few days.
TONY: It's out of the question.
ISHTAR: Only three, four days. Until they remove the dressing and the stitches.
TONY: I don't want you to go to your mother. I want you with me.
ISHTAR: I will need some help. Dressing, bathing.
TONY: There's nothing she can do that I can't do. I can help you.
ISHTAR: Must you contradict me on this?
TONY: I want you home. Have your mother come stay with us.
ISHTAR: She lives closer to the hospital. I'll have to come here every day to change my bottle.
TONY: I can drive you.
ISHTAR (tenderly): I want to be mothered... By Mummy... This... at least this... of all things... now... this little thing of all things you'll let me have without making me feel bad, will you... Exactly as I say... just me... alone... with Mummy... at Mummy's...
TONY: You mean, you don't want me around at all?
ISHTAR: No, just me... and Mummy... Mummy... Mummy...
TONY: But why?
ISHTAR: Will you, darling?
TONY: But...
ISHTAR: Will you...?
TONY: What... shall I do with myself?
ISHTAR: I forgot to ask... How's the boat coming?
TONY: The boat...? I've forgotten about the boat... I guess, they'll deliver it to-morrow...
ISHTAR: Nice timing!
TONY: Why do you say that?
ISHTAR: Wasn't it supposed to be delivered three days ago?
TONY: I told them I couldn't make it...
ISHTAR: That's what I said, nice timing!
TONY: If you think that I have given one thought to that fucking boat... Why are we talking about that fucking boat? Will I be allowed to make visits, at least?
ISHTAR: Why "allowed?" There's no need to be hostile!
TONY: So, I'll just come without asking...
ISHTAR: How could you think of doing it any other way?
TONY: Then why don't move in at your mother's, as well? I mean... I wouldn't mind, if she doesn't mind... I need mothering, too...
ISHTAR: Don't be silly!
TONY: She wouldn't mind, would she...? I hope not!
ISHTAR: I would...
TONY: I know!
(Silence.)
TONY: Don't you need me?
ISHTAR: Not right now.
TONY: God, but...
ISHTAR: Sshhhh..!
TONY (to the audience): You should know her mother... There's nothing less motherly than her mother... She's complained about her ever since I met her... how selfish her mother was... how cold... how unfeeling... In her late twenties, she went to a therapist to complain about her mother. Then she found me... On the morning of our wedding, on the way to the Synagogue, she stopped off at the veterinarian to have her cat neutered, her mother did. Honest to God! You don't believe me. I swear. That's how much she liked me! I was in the car behind, with my parents. When they saw her stop, they thought we had arrived. I said, no, it's only the veterinarian clinic. After the ceremony, she made another stop, to pick up the cat... She is a wonder of efficiency, my mother-in-law... Oh... If I started telling you stories about my mother-in-law... and now she cries for her...
ISHTAR: Mummy... Mummy...Mummy...
TONY: Yes, she's calling for her... Sometimes, she calls for her in her sleep, softly, like this: "Mummy..."
She'll call for her on her deathbed, not for me...
And I will call for mine, godammit! I know I will...
She is now drifting back to her mother...
My beautiful wife...
back to her mother...
That was it, the gap that has opened between us, it was nothing new, it was only waiting to open again, in the end we are all drifting back towards our mothers... and that's when the thought finally occurred to me... of why women want so much to be mothers... so much, so much, to be mothers... to be mothers in their turn...
in order to get away from their mothers... to be saved from their mothers... to be pulled away in the other direction... They want us to make them mothers and pull them away... and save them... and how we cannot, ever, understand, we can't get it... I mean, I want to be a father, I wanted, to be a father... but, it was, you know, like my wanting to have a boat... and anyway, I don't want it anymore, now... I've stopped wanting it, I don't care anymore, it's of no importance... For me, it's of no importance... For me, that is...
(While he is speaking, THE MOTHER has appeared, ISHTAR embraces her very tightly. THE MOTHER takes the bottle from the stand, puts it in an elegant handbag, which she gives to ISHTAR to carry. TONY picks up the suitcase, follows them as they leave the stage, entwined.)