you can THINK, you got to CONSIDER what you want to think about, right?
FINN (nods) The fog parts.
THE SALESMAN
After you consider what to think and think it, thinking’s no good, is it, if you don’t DO?
FINN
By God, you’re right. You might as well arrange a flower bouquet and throw it in the River Liffey as think and not do. But you’ve not explained the first—
THE SALESMAN
The first is most important! You must STOP whatever else you’re doing, scratching your ear and notching your belt or whatever, mustn’t you, in order to CONSIDER THINKING and DOING?
FINN
That’s it, bull’s-eye on! I’ll take the lot!
FINN gestures frantically, for he is still “customer” outside the bar, while behind the bar is THE SALESMAN.
Ring up No Sale and take out ten shillings before I regain my sanity!
THE SALESMAN is to the register like a shot. Bang! A bell rings, the red NO SALE sign jumps up.
THE SALESMAN How about another?
FINN Don’t mind if I do!
THE SALESMAN pours for both. They hoist them.
THE SALESMAN To the Brave New World of this afternoon!
FINN So soon?
THE SALESMAN
You’ll note the difference within hours. To thought-provocation, to the pub called Heeber Finn’s, to the Oracle at Delphi in a way, to this cavern of philosophers—
FINN Tavern of philosophers—that has a ring to it.
THE SALESMAN Cavern.
FINN (nettled)
Cavern’s what I said! A cavern brimming over with philosophers, eh?
THE WIFE (walking through) Philosophers? Is that the same as hoboes?
She is gone.
THE SALESMAN Who was that?
FINN (eyes shut) 1 dread to tell you.
THE SALESMAN (nods understanding^) (Recovers briskly) To Finn’s then, where people stop! consider! think! and do!
FINN I’ll drink to those damn things, any day.
They drink.
THE SALESMAN (walking) Well, I’ll be off!
FINN (worried) You won’t sell any more of these in the village, now?
THE SALESMAN
Nor in the next. I like to drop one stone in the pond and watch the lovely ripples—spread! (He illustrates)
FINN (awed) Your father was a poet.
THE SALESMAN (eyebrows up) Uncanny! You guessed it! Good day!
FINN
And a fine one to you, Hoolihan! HOOLIHAN exits.
THE SALESMAN (singing) “In life, in strife, With maid, or wife It’s the thinking, Not the drinking, Makes it . . . Go!”
He is gone.
Now FINN, alone, exhales with pleasure. He mops off each of the little ceramic signs, exhales on them, shines them again— then, like a painter, looks about at the empty bar, looking left, left center, center, right center, right.
FINN (to himself) Now where is best for each . . . ? Well . . .
He snatches one and places it jar over at stage right. The sign reads STOP!
When they come in the door they should see this right off!
What’s next? Well, when their little eyes move on over along, the next thing they should see is CONSIDER, right? Right!
He places CONSIDER right center. New let’s think where to put THINK.
He picks THINK up, deliberates, puts it back down on top the Guinness tap-barrel.
Right where he had it is best! And last of all, DO should go over by the door on the other side, so people, on the way out, will do things. Right? I think it is!
He locates DO where he has said he’d put it and stands back again to survey his tasks finished.
At which point his WIFE happens through. He flinches as if he had expected her to throw scalding water on him and makes elaborately casual attempts to look calm, collected, and not guilty of putting out hard money for strange devices.
He saunters toward the bar, turning in a circle past his WIFE, who also turns in a circle, suspicious of the smell of him.
THE WIFE Well?
He reaches the bar, polishes the first sign, STOP!
FINN
Well, indeed!
He moves over to polish the second, CONSIDER. She turns away and huffs out. He flings down the rag.
Damn, she didn’t see! Or did she see and disapprove? All right, steady, Finn, a calm mind in a calm body, eh? (Pours) Here’s calmness. (Drinks) Ah.
At which point the doors fling wide, and a man enters, somewhat in his cups. He freezes and stares.
FINN looks at the man, follows his gaze to see what he is looking at and finds it is the sign: STOP!
The man sways there a moment, blinking, debating, then wheels about.
I-
The man charges back out, gone.
Now, what the—? Well, where was I? Oiling the stormy seas. Another drop of oil, eh?
He gives himself a drop. He rearranges one of the signs, smiles at it, pats it.
The same half-drunk man enters again, is again transfixed at what he sees, wheels, and goes out.
I’ll be … Now that’s most peculiar. That was Tom Noonan, wasn’t it? (Shrugs) Ah, he’ll be back.
We can see NOONAN, outside, warming up for another try. He steels himself, takes a deep breath, and bursts through the doors again. He is half across the barroom floor, at full steam, when his eyes fix to the dire sign and he cries in loud dismay, almost a wail:
NOONAN Stop!
and circles around to flail out and is gone again, this time for good.
FINN (going after him)
Tom Noonan, oh, Tom! (stops, bewildered) Gone. Did he say “Stop”? Yes. Must have misunderstood. That one sign wasn’t meant for him.
He goes over and peers at the sign. (Muses) Stop . . .
He is wracked with indecision. He picks up the sign, puts it down, picks it up again.
Well, it might be best, for the first few hours, anyway, to turn this one around so no one can see it, right off. Later, I’ll turn it back. It’s not really the most important sign, anyway, is it? No!
He turns the sign around so we can’t read it.
There! Now we still have (Points) CONSIDER! THINK! DO! (Rubs hands) All right, world, I’m ready for you! I’d best tell the boys to come in and—
FATHER LEARY enters, or rather, almost backs in through the door.
There you are, Father Leary!
FATHER (bemused)
Am I? So I am. On my way to Mrs. Kelly’s I just saw Tom Noonan on the street.
FINN (suddenly uneasy) Noonan? Tom?
FATHER
Run up to me and insisted right there on the curb I take his confession!
FINN (attempting cheer) Did he? That’s nice.
FATHER
Nice, but not like Tom. He wouldn’t take no. Held onto my elbow, he did. So I shut my eyes and pretended not to know and heard him out!
FINN Fast thinking, Father!
FATHER The Archbishop would jump straight up if he heard.
FINN
I won’t tell him.
FATHER (looking sharp) Do you know him?
FINN (pulling his horns in) Now that you mention it, no . . .
FATHER (baffled)
It was over in a trice and Noonan gone. Said he’d stop this and stop that and stop two of those and three of the next-worst. I can’t tell you what he said he’d stop, of course, but stop it was, all up and down the line.
FINN has backed over to the counter to hide the sign with his back. He is edgy.
FINN Think of that.
FATHER I am thinking of it, Finn.
FINN has the “machine,” the sign, in his hands behind his back now.
What’s that behind your back, Finn?
FINN
Why, Father, it’s—
Crash! The damn thing has fallen to the floor, FINN turns to look at the shards. He bends to pick them up.
Why, it’s kind of a—jigsaw puzzle, Father.
FATHER I like puzzles.
FINN Ah, you couldn’t work this one—
FATHER Let me try.
FINN reluctantly puts the pieces on the bar. That don’t look so difficult, now, Finn.
FTNN (to himself) More’s the pity.
FATHER Eh?
FINN Will you have a drink while you work it, Father?
FATHER (working)
This piece would seem to go here . . . Eh? Yes, Finn, bless you, man . . . and this piece here. . . .
FINN pours. FATHER LEARY tinkers.
… as I was saying. Noonan now . . . right on the street! Nothing wrong really, I suppose, confessing him in the open, God’s everywhere . . . but still … it shook me … why should old Tom? Stop this I will! he said, and stop that! and stop the others! (He tinkers with the bits) Put this piece over here . . . and move this about . . . There … it seems to be a word, Finn.
FINN (mock surprise) Fancy that.
LEARY shoves some more bits about.
FATHER S would seem to be the first letter of the puzzle.
FINN Are you sure?
FATHER 5 … T—that’s a T, ain’t it? (He moves a last shard in place)
0 . . . P.
FINN (brightly) “Stop!”
FATHER (disquieted)
I can read, Finn.
FINN
I’ve always spoke well of your education, sir.
FATHER (musing)
“Stop,” Finn. Stop. Have you heard that word before in the last three minutes?
FINN You may have used it, sir.
FATHER Tom Noonan, didn’t he use it, too?
FINN
We mustn’t talk of it, Father. The vows of the confessional—
FATHER Finn!
FINN (quietly) Yes, sir?
FATHER Was Tom Noonan in here lately?
FINN
Of recent date, Father?
FATHER Date, hell, man. The last hour?
FINN
Well, in and out, Father.
FATHER Which is it, in or out?
FINN It became a trifle circuitous, Father, to coin a word.
FATHER Circuitous? Do you infer he weaved in circles, then?
FINN
I only infer, Father, he made one arc coming and another going. Six arcs in all, Father.
FATHER Broken down, you say he arrived three times—
FINN
And left just as many—
FATHER In how long a time?
FINN
It was remarkable for its shortness, Father. He came and went, arrived and departed, came through the entrance and looked for the exit.
FATHER (toying with the reconstructed sign) How do you account for his behavior, Finn?
FINN His wife had been nagging him, sir.
FATHER And?
FINN
And he had been drinking hard at it, down the road, I suppose, at Rooney’s pub.
FATHER Goon.
FINN
And they heaved him out, no doubt, and he came up this way seeking more of the Same or the Usual, begging