Death of Eagles / Scrutiny: Two Plays

By Harding Lemay

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 23, 2007
• ISBN: 9781465332196

Harding Lemay

HARDING LEMAY was born, the fifth of thirteen children, in Northern New York State. He ran away from home at seventeen to New York City where he has lived ever since. He was a delivery boy and elevator operator before serving in the U. S. Army during World War II, then an actor, librarian and book publishing executive before devoting himself full time to writing. He has written over twelve full length plays and two memoirs, Inside, Looking Out, (Harpers Magazine Press, nominated for the National Book Award) and Eight Years in Another World (Atheneum). He was the headwriter of NBC's daytime serial, Another World, for eight years and has been a scriptwriter and story consultant on other serials, including As the World Turns, The Doctors, Ryan's Hope, The Guiding Light and One Life to Live. In New York City, he has taught literature, drama and serial writing at New York University, Hunter College and the New School for Social Research. Other plays by Harding Lemay: Look at Any Man From a Dark Land Little Birds Fly Return Upriver Death of Eagles The Joslyn Circle The Off Season Escape Route Interior Landscape Scrutiny

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Contents

Death of Eagles

Scrutiny

HARDING LEMAY was born, the fifth of thirteen children, in Northern New York State. He ran away from home at seventeen to New York City where he has lived ever since. He was a delivery boy and elevator operator before serving in the U. S. Army during World War II, then an actor, a library clerk and a book publishing executive before devoting himself full time to writing. He has written over twelve full length plays and two memoirs, Inside, Looking Out (Harpers Magazine Press) and Eight Years in Another World (Atheneum). He was head writer of NBC’s daytime serial, Another World, scriptwriter and story consultant on other serials, including As the World Turns, The Doctors, The Guiding Light, Ryan’s Hope and One Life to Live. In New York City, he has taught literature, drama and daytime serial writing at Hunter College, New York University, and the New School for Social Research.

Other plays by Harding Lemay

Look at Any Man

From a Dark Land

Return Upriver

Little Birds Fly

The Joslyn Circle

The Off Season

Escape Route

Interior Landscape

A Far, Far Better World

In the Eye of Heaven

Death of Eagles

a comedy in three acts

Death of Eagles was first performed in an earlier version at The New Dramatists, New York City, on December 13, 1968 with the following cast:

General Bergin Kaurin

Polly Mary Fogarty

Wendy Ken Freeman

Winkie Arlen Dean Snyder

Harriet Valerie Paone

directed by Don Price

CAST OF CHARACTERS

(in order of speaking)

General Wendell Morrison, Retired

Polly Treegar Morrison, his wife

Wendell Morrison III (Wendy)

Colonel Wendell Morrison II (Winkie)

Harriet Morrison, his wife

The action of the play takes place during the current wars in the livingroom of General Morrison’s family hunting lodge on a mountain lake.

The room is sturdily built and comfortably furnished, but not luxurious. The walls are wood panelled with heavy beams, and are decorated with military trophies, flags, and several large, rather gaudy canvases of quite modern abstract paintings.

Upstage right, a doorway leads out onto a small balcony which overlooks a lake. Upstage left center, stairs lead to a rather extensive landing, rimmed by a railing, which looks out through French doors to another balcony overlooking the lake. The stairs continue up to the bedrooms on the second floor. Left of the stairs, upstage center, is a massive wood burning fireplace. On the mantel are honorary degrees to the General from universities, plaques awarded him during a lifetime of military service, and enlarged photographs of regimental officers’ units. Downstage right, a door leads to the kitchen.

Downstage right is a comfortable sofa, covered in a subdued patterned fabric, and below it a coffee table which also serves as a work desk for the General. A portable typewriter is upon the table, and stacks of manuscript pages are piled beside it. Downstage to the right end of the sofa is another small table, with a tape recording machine on it.

Downstage of the fireplace are two arm chairs, facing each other, with a small table between them. Next to the arm chair on stage left is an oversized cradle on rockers. It is decorated with a large American flag.

ACT ONE

ACT ONE

Domestic Life

Mid-morning, a summer day

As the curtain rises, GENERAL WENDELL MORRISON is seated on the sofa, downstage left.

The GENERAL is in his early eighties, sits erect, but is somewhat slow of movement. The best of the West Point product of the early twentieth century, he wears at all times a belted holster containing a pearl handled revolver.

Wearing his full uniform, complete with decorations, wrapped in a blanket, he pecks away at the portable typewriter on the coffee table. The keys jam together and he turns impatiently and picks up the microphone of the tape recorder from the small table on his right.

His wife POLLY is seated beside the cradle, which she rocks in steady rhythm. In her late sixties, she was once a beautiful woman, but has now gone somewhat to fat, which she doesn’t seem to mind. She wears a large multi pocketed apron over a blouse and skirt and dirty tennis shoes. The apron pockets contain various personal and domestic objects (eye glasses, calendars, pocket calculators, screwdrivers, pencils, needles, spools of thread, a baby’s pacifier, safety pins, a whiskey flask, etc). POLLY holds a formula bottle for an unseen infant in the cradle and sings in counterpoint to the GENERAL’s speech.

General Polly

(shaking the microphone (singing)

in irritation) Damn thing "Hush, little baby,

never works right. (speaks And don’t you cry,

into microphone) Yes? Though you know your

Hello, hello, there. Can Mamma’s born to die.

you read me? It’s General

Morrison here. (listens for All my trials, Lord,

a moment, groaning, to Soon be over.

his voice) Sounds like a

goddam ghost. (speaks If religion was a thing

into the microphone again) that money could buy,

Where the Hell was I? Born. Oh, the rich would live,

Yes, yes, born. Let’s see, And the poor would die.

born . . . Panama, no, no,

Pomona, 1918, according to Too late, my babe, too late,

all available records. but never mind.

Never saw a record that

wasn’t wrong somewhere, All my trials, Lord,

some how. My father, Andrew Soon be over.

Jackson Morrison, was

commander in chief of the Jordan’s waters are

American forces during the icy and cold,

First Great War, when I was they chill the body,

born, just previous to the but not the soul.

Armistice, enrolled already at

the Point. And my mother? All my trials, Lord,

Now, how in the Hell am I soon be over.

supposed to remember my

mother, after all these There is a tree

years? Died, I guess. in paradise,

They told me she died. the Christians

Never can tell about women. call the tree of life.

They run off with some randy

dancing teacher or foreign All my trials, Lord,

muff diver and somebody tells soon be over.

you she’s dead, carried off by

the influenza and all the time Too late, my babe, too late

she’s been carried off by but never mind.

some quick triggered cocksman.

Well, she’s dead by now, any All my trials, Lord,

way. They’re all dead by soon be over.

now. (He listens to the tape

for a moment, then snaps it off)

Who in the Hell would pay good

money to read that shit!

Polly

Watch your language in front of the baby, General!

General

Roger, over!

The GENERAL puts the microphone down and picks up pages of manuscript from the table. POLLY watches him for a moment, then rises, goes to the fireplace and takes down a whiskey bottle concealed behind a military trophy. She is about to pour whiskey from it into a flask she takes from an apron pocket when the GENERAL turns and sees her.

General

Caught you! Attention! (POLLY drops the bottle) Another demerit for you. No pass this weekend. Latrine duty for a week.

Polly

Why, General, you should be out fishing.

General

I haven’t gone fishing for five years now and you know it.

Polly

Awfully good for you, General, fishing, truly it is.

General

I never catch anything.

Polly

Pray to the Lord for guidance.

General

The slippery bastards just slide away, grinning at me.

Polly

Helps you think, fishing.

General

I can think right here.

Polly

Then don’t complain.

General

A statement of fact is not a complaint. And the fact is it’s goddam cold in here.

Polly

It’s warm and comfy in the kitchen. Come on out and say our morning prayers with me.

General

I’m working, woman. On my memoirs. Fingers freezing to the bone, but I work on, dredging up all that bilge, pecking away at that damn machine.

Polly

Just tell the truth, General, tell the truth. The Lord will guide your hand.

General

Wish he’d send a little heat to it instead.

Polly

(going to the fireplace and poking it) Would be warmer out on the lake, fishing, with the sun on your back.

General

My Daddy, the General, said fishing was the sport for soldiers. Gave you time to think out your campaigns.

Polly

(rising from the fireplace) There, that ought to warm you up in a minute. You sure you don’t want to come out and have a nice quiet chat with the Lord and me?

General

I’m trying to write it all down. I been sitting here, thinking about my Mama.

Polly

I never knew your Mama.

General

They said she was dead but I don’t believe it.

Polly

Someone at the Pentagon could trace her for you if you really got to know. Call whatshisname. Mr. Rumston.

General

Rumsfield, woman! Or Ramsfeld. I ain’t calling no civvie know it all. I just want to think about her.

Polly

She’s in God’s hands. Go back to your work, General. Work is the remedy for idle minds.

General

You call this work? I should be on the field where I belong instead of rummaging around in my memories.

Polly

They paid you two hundred thousand dollars to write that book.

General

I got nothing to tell anybody.

Polly

General, you’re the only one left. Washington, Jackson, Grant, Sherman, Custer, Pershing, Patton, MacArthur, Eisenhower, LeMay, Ridgeway, Westmoreland, Schwartzkopf. You’re the only one left.

General

They were military men, not goddam writers.

Polly

Ike wrote his memoirs. If he could do it, so can you.

General

Damn fool had no business going into politics. They offered to run my Daddy, the General, for President, too. He turned it down. Had other priorities.

Polly

It’s a man’s duty to serve his country when called.

General

They didn’t ask me to run. They asked me to write a goddam book. My life among the troops. General Fuck Up.

Polly

Watch your mouth, General. There’s a baby in the house.

General

That’s what my men used to call me behind my back.

Polly

How could you hear what they said behind your back?

General

My spies told me. Every officer in