FADE IN:

INT. DINING HALL - SARAH SIDDONS SOCIETY - NIGHT

It is not a large room and jammed with tables, mostly for
four but some for six and eight. A long table of honor, for
about thirty people, has been placed upon a dais. 

Diner is over. Demi-tasses, cigars and brandy. The overall
effect is one of worn elegance and dogged gentility. It is
June.

The CAMERA, as it has been throughout the CREDIT TITLES, is
on the SARAH SIDDONS AWARD. It is a gold statuette, about a
foot high, of Sarah Siddons as The Tragic Muse. Exquisitely
framed in a nest of flowers, it rests on a miniature altar in
the center of the table of honor. 

Over this we hear the crisp, cultured, precise VOICE of
ADDISON deWITT:

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 The Sarah Siddons Award for
	 Distinguished Achievement is
	 perhaps unknown to you. It has been
	 spared the sensational and
	 commercial publicity that attends
	 such questionable "honors" as the
	 Pulitzer Prize and those awards
	 presented annually by the film
	 society...

The CAMERA has EASED BACK to include some of the table of
honor and a distinguished gentleman with snow-white hair who
is speaking. We do not hear what he says. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 The distinguished looking gentleman
	 is an extremely old actor. Being an
	 actor - he will go on speaking for
	 some time. It is not important what
	 you hear what he says. 

The CAMERA EASES BACK some more, and CONTINUES until it
discloses a fairly COMPREHENSIVE SHOT of the room

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 However it is important that you
	 know where you are, and why you are
	 here. This is the dining room of
	 the Sarah Siddons Society.
	 The occasion is its annual banquet
	 and presentation of the highest
	 honor our Theater knows - the Sarah
	 Siddons Award for Distinguished
	 Achievement. 

A GROUP OF WAITERS are clustered near the screen masking the
entrances of the kitchen. The screens are papered with old
theatrical programs. The waiters are all aged and venerable.
They look respectfully toward the speaker. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 These hollowed walls, indeed many
	 of these faces, have looked upon
	 Modjeska, Ada Rehan and Minnie
	 Fiske; Mansfield’s voice filled the
	 room, Booth breathed this air. It
	 is unlikely that the windows have
	 been opened since his death. 

CLOSE - THE AWARD on its altar, it shines proudly above five
or six smaller altars which surround it and which are now
empty. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 The minor awards, as you can see,
	 have already been presented. Minor
	 awards are for such as the writer
	 and director - since their function
	 is merely to construct a tower so
	 that the world can applaud a light
	 which flashes on top of it and no
	 brighter light has ever dazzled the
	 eye than Eve Harrington. Eve... but
	 more of Eve, later. All about Eve,
	 in fact.  

THE CAMERA MOVES TO: CLOSE - ADDISON deWITT, not young, not
unattractive, a fastidious dresser, sharp of eye and
merciless of tongue. An omnipresent cigarette holder projects
from his mouth like the sward of D’Artagnan. 

He sits back in his chair, musingly, his fingers making
little cannonballs out of bread crumbs. His narration covers
the MOVE of the CAMERA to him:

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 To those of you who do not read,
	 attend the Theater, listen to
	 uncensored radio programs or know
	 anything of the world in which we
	 live - it is perhaps necessary to
	 introduce myself. My name is
	 Addison deWitt.
	 My native habitat is the Theater -
	 in it I toil not, neither do I
	 spin. I am a critic and
	 commentator. I am essential to the
	 Theater - as ants are to a picnic,
	 as the ball weevil to a cotton
	 field... 

He looks to his left. KAREN RICHARDS is lovely and thirtyish
in an unprofessional way. She is scraping bread crumbs,
spilled sugar, etc., into a pile with a spoon. Addison takes
one of her bread crumbs. She smiles absently. Addison rolls
the bread crumb into a cannonball. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 This is Karen Richards. She is the
	 wife of a playwright, therefore of
	 the Theater by marriage. Nothing in
	 her background or breeding should
	 have brought her any closer the
	 stage than row E, center...

Karen continues her doodling. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 ... however, during her senior year
	 in Radcliffe, Lloyd Richards
	 lectured on drama. The following
	 year Karen became Mrs. Lloyd
	 Richards. Lloyd is the author of
	 ’Footsteps on the Ceiling’ - the
	 play which has won for Eve
	 Harrington the Sarah Siddons
	 Award...

Karen absently pats the top of her little pile of refuse. A
hand reaches in to take the spoon away. Karen looks as the
CAMERA PANS with IT to MAX FABIAN. He sits at her left. He’s
a sad-faced man with glasses and a look of constant
apprehension. He smiles apologetically and indicated a white
powder with he unwraps. He pantomimes that his ulcer is
snapping.   

Karen smiles back, returns to her doodling. Addison mashes a
cigarette stub, pops it out of his holder. He eyes Max. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 There are two types of theatrical
	 producers. One has a great many
	 wealthy friends who will risk a tax
	 deductible loss. This type is
	 interested in Art. 

Max drops the powder into some water, stirs it, drinks, burps
delicately and close his eyes. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 The other is one to whom each
	 production mean potential ruin or
	 fortune. This type is out to make a
	 buck. Meet Max Fabian. He is the
	 producer of the play which has won
	 Eve Harrington the Sarah Siddons
	 Award...

Max rests fitfully. He twitches. A hand reaches into the
SCENE, removes a bottle of Scotch from before him. The CAMERA
follows the bottle to MARGO CHANNING. She sits at Max’s left,
at deWitt’s right. An attractive, strong face. She is
childish, adult, reasonable, unreasonable - usually one when
she should be the other, but always positive. She pours a
stiff drink.   

Addison hold out the soda bottle to her. She looks at it, and
at him, as if it were a tarantula and he had gone mad. He
smiles and pours a glass of soda for himself. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 Margo Channing is the Star of the
	 Theater. She made her first stage
	 appearance, at the age of four, in
	 ’Midsummer Night’s Dream’. She
	 played a fairy and entered - quite
	 unexpectedly - stark naked. She has
	 been a Star ever since. 

Margo sloshes her drink around moodily, pulls at it.

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 Margo is a great Star. A true Star.
	 She never was or will be anything
	 less or anything less... 
		(slight pause)
	 ... the part for which Eve
	 Harrington is receiving the Sarah
	 Siddons Award was intended
	 originally for Margo Channing...

Addison, having sipped his soda water, puts a new cigarette
in his holder, leans back, lights it, looks and exhales in
the general direction of the table of honor. As he speaks the
CAMERA MOVES in the direction of his glance...

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 Having covered in tedious detail
	 not only the history of the Sarah
	 Siddons Society, but also the
	 history of acting since Thespis
	 first stepped out of the chorus
	 line - our distinguished chairman
	 has finally arrived at our reason
	 for being here...  

At this point Addison’s voice FADES OUT and the voice of the
aged actor FADES IN. CAMERA is in MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT of him
and the podium. 

			AGED ACTOR
	 I have been proud and privileged to
	 have spent my life in the Theater -
	 "a poor player ... that struts and
	 frets his hour upon the stage" -
	 and I have been honored to be, for
	 forty years, Chief Promoter of the
	 Sarah Siddons Society...
		(he lifts the Sarah
		 Siddons Award from its
		 altar)
	 Thirty-nine times have I placed in
	 deserving hands this highest honor
	 the Theater knows...
		(he grows a bit arch, he
		 uses his eyebrows)
	 Surely no actor is older than I - I
	 have earned my place out of the
	 sun...
		(indulgent laughter)
	 ... and never before has this Award
	 gone to anyone younger than its
	 recipient tonight. How fitting that
	 it should pass from my hands to
	 hers...

EVE HANDS: Lovely, beautifully groomed. In serene repose,
they rest between a demi-tasse cup and an exquisite small
evening cup.  

			AGED ACTOR
	 Such young hands. Such a young
	 lady. Young in years, but whose
	 heart is as old as the Theater...

Addison’s eyes narrow quizzically as he listens. Then,
slowly, he turns to look at Karen...

			AGED ACTOR
	 Some of us a privileged to know
	 her. We have seen beyond the beauty
	 and artistry- 

Karen never ceases her thoughtful pat-a-cake with the crumbs. 

			AGED ACTOR
	 -that have made her name resound
	 through the nation. We know her
	 humility. Her devotion, her loyalty
	 to her art. 

Addison’s glance moves from Karen to Margo. 

			AGED ACTOR
	 Her love, her deep and abiding love
	 for us-

Margo’s face is a mask. She looks down at the drink which she
cradles with both hands. 

			AGED ACTOR
	 -for what we are and what we do.
	 The Theater. She has had one wish,
	 one prayer, one dream. To belong to
	 us. 
		(he’s nearing his curtain
		 line)
	 Tonight her dream has come true.
	 And henceforth we shall dream the
	 same of her. 
		(a slight pause)
	 Honored members, ladies and
	 gentlemen - for distinguished
	 achievement in the Theater - the
	 Sarah Siddons Award to Miss Eve
	 Harrington. 

The entire room is galvanized into sudden and tumultuous
applause. Some enthusiastic gentlemen rise to her feet...
Flash bulbs start popping about halfway down the table of the
Aged Actor’s left... 

Eve rises - beautiful, radiant, poised, exquisitely gowned.
She stands in simple and dignified response to the ovation. 

A dozen photographers skip, squat, and dart about like water
bugs. Flash bulbs pop and pop and pop...

THE WAITERS applaud enthusiastically...

AGED ACTOR, Award in hand, he beams at her...

EVE smiles sweetly to her left, then to her right...

MAX has come to. He applauds lustily.

ADDISON’s applauding too, more discreetly. 

MARGO, not applauding. But you sense no deliberate slight,
merely an impression that as she looks at Eve her mind is on
something else...

KAREN, nor is she applauding. But her gaze is similarly fixed
on Eve in a strange, faraway fashion. 

ADDISON, still applauding, his eyes flash first at Margo and
then at Karen. Then he directs them back to Eve. He smiles
ever so slightly.  

The applause has continued unabated. EVE turns now, and moves
gracefully toward the Aged Actor. She moves through
applauding ladies and gentlemen; from below the flash bulbs
keep popping... 

As she nears her goal, the Ages Actor turns to her. He holds
out the award. Her hand reaches out for it. At that precise
moment - with the award just beyond her fingertips - THE
PICTURE HOLDS, THE ACTION STOPS. The SOUND STOPS. 

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 Eve. Eve, the Golden Girl. The
	 cover girl, the girl next door, the
	 girl on the moon... Time has been
	 good to Eve, Life goes where she
	 goes - she’s been profiled,
	 covered, revealed, reported, what
	 she eats and when and where, whom
	 she knows and where she was and
	 when and where she’s going...   

ADDISON has stopped applauding, he’s sitting forward, staring
intently at Eve... his narration continues unbroken.

			ADDISON’S VOICE
	 ... Eve. You all know all about
	 Eve... what can there be to know
	 that you don’t know...?

As he leans back, the APPLAUSE FADES IN as tumultuous as
before. Addison’s look moves slowly from Eve to Karen.  

KAREN, she leans forward now, her eyes intently on Eve. Her
lovely face FILLS THE SCREEN as the APPLAUSE FADES ONCE MORE -
as she thinks back:

			KAREN’S VOICE
	 When was it? How long? It seems a
	 lifetime ago. Lloyd always said
	 that in the Theater a lifetime was
	 a season, and a season a lifetime.
	 It’s June now. That was - early
	 October... only last October. It
	 was a drizzly night, I remember I
	 asked the taxi to wait...

							DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. NEW YORK THEATER STREET - NIGHT

Traffic is not heavy, the shows have broken some half-hour
before. The rain is just a drizzle. 

There are other theaters on the street; display lights are
being extinguished. Going out just as Karen’s taxi pulls up
is: MARGO CHANNING in ’AGED IN WOOD’. The marquis display
below includes "Max Fabian Presents" and "By Lloyd Richards."

The taxi comes to a stop at the alley. Karen can be seen
through the closed windows telling the driver to wait. Then
she gets out. She takes a step, hesitates, then looks about
curiously:

			KAREN’S VOICE
	 Where was she? Strange... I had
	 become so accustomed to seeing her
	 there night after night - I found
	 myself looking for a girl I’d never
	 spoken to, wondering where she
	 was...

She smiles a little at her own romanticism, puts her head
down and makes her way into the alley. 

EXT. ALLEY - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

Karen moves toward the stage door. She passes a recess in the
wall - perhaps an exit - about halfway. 

			EVE’S VOICE
		(softly)
	 Mrs. Richards...

Karen hesitates, looks. Eve is barely distinguishable in the
shadow of the recess. Karen smiles, waits. Eve comes out. A
gooseneck light above them reveals her... 

She wears a cheap trench coat, low-heeled shoes, a rain hat
stuck on the back of her head... Her large, luminous eyes
seem to glow up at Karen in the strange half-light. 

			KAREN
	 So there you are. It seemed odd,
	 suddenly, your not being there...

			EVE
	 Why should you think I wouldn’t be?

			KAREN
	 Why should you be? After all, six
	 nights a week - for weeks - of
	 watching even Margo Channing enter
	 and leave a theater-

			EVE
	 I hope you don’t mind my speaking
	 to you...

			KAREN
	 Not at all. 

			EVE
	 I’ve seen you so often - it took
	 every bit of courage I could raise-

			KAREN
		(smiles)
	 To speak to just a playwright’s
	 wife? I’m the lowest form of
	 celebrity...

			EVE
	 You’re Margo Channing’s best
	 friend. You and your husband are
	 always with her - and Mr.
	 Sampson... what’s he like?

			KAREN
		(grins)
	 Bill Sampson? He’s - he’s a
	 director.

			EVE
	 He’s the best. 

			KAREN
	 He’ll agree with you. Tell me, what
	 do you between the time Margo goes
	 in and comes out? Just huddle in
	 that doorway and wait? 

			EVE
	 Oh, no. I see the play. 

			KAREN
		(incredulous)
	 You see the play? You’ve seen the
	 play every performance?
		(Eve nods)
	 But, don’t you find it - I mean
	 apart from everything else - don’t
	 you find it expensive? 

			EVE
	 Standing room doesn’t cost much. I
	 manage. 

Karen contemplates Eve. Then she takes her arm. 

			KAREN
	 I’m going to take you to Margo...

			EVE
		(hanging back)
	 Oh, no...

			KAREN
	 She’s got to meet you-

			EVE
	 No, I’d be imposing on her, I’d be
	 just another tongue-tied gushing
	 fan...

Karen practically propels her toward the stage door. 

			KAREN
		(insisting)
	 There isn’t another like you, there
	 couldn’t be- 

			EVE
	 But if I’d known... maybe some
	 other time... I mean, looking like
	 this. 

			KAREN
	 You look just fine...
		(they’re at the stage
		 door)
	 ... by the way. What’s your name?

			EVE
	 Eve. Eve Harrington. 

Karen opens the door. They go in. 

INT. BACKSTAGE - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

Everything, including the doorman, looks fireproof. 

Eve enters like a novitiate’s first visit to the Vatican.
Karen, with a "Good evening, Gus -" to the doorman, leads the
way toward Margo’s stage dressing room. Eve, drinking in the
wonderment of all the surveys, lags behind. Karen waits for
her to catch up... 

			EVE
	 You can breathe it - can’t you?
	 Like some magic perfume...

Karen smiles, takes Eve’s arm. They proceed to Margo’s
dressing room. 

EXT. MARGO’S DRESSING ROOM - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

No star on the closed door; the paint is peeling. A type
written chit, thumbtacked, says MISS CHANNING.

As Karen and Eve approach it, an uninhibited guffaw from
Margo makes them pause. 

			KAREN
		(whispers)
	 You wait a minute...
		(smiles)
	 ... now don’t run away-

Eve smiles shakily. At the same moment:

			MARGO’S VOICE
		(loudly; through the door)
	 "Honey chile," I said, "if the
	 South had won the war, you could
	 write the same plays about the
	 North!"

Karen enters during the line. 

INT. MARGO’S DRESSING ROOM - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

It is a medium-sized box, lined with hot water pipes and
cracked plaster. It is furnished in beat-up wicker. A door
leads to an old-fashioned bathroom. 

Margo is at the dressing table. She wears an old wrapper, her
hair drawn back tightly to fit under the wig which lies
before her like a dead poodle. Also before her is an almost
finished drink. 

LLOYD RICHARDS is stretched out on the wicker chaise. He’s in
his late thirties, sensitive, literate. 

Between them, by the dressing table, is BIRDIE - Margo’s
maid. Her age is unimportant. She was conceived during a
split week in Walla Walla and born in a carnival riot. She is
fiercely loyal to Margo. 

Karen enters during the line Margo started while she was
outside. Lloyd chuckles, Birdie cackles. 

			KAREN
	 Hi.
		(she goes to kiss Lloyd)
	 Hello, darling-

			MARGO 
	 Hi. 
		(she goes right on - in a
		 think "Suth’n" accent)
	 "Well, now Mis’ Channin’, ah don’t
	 think you can rightly say we lost
	 the wah, we was mo’ stahved out,
	 you might say - an’ that’s what ah
	 don’ unnerstand about all these
	 plays about love-stahved Suth’n
	 women - love is one thing we was
	 nevah stahved for the South!"

			LLOYD
	 How was the concert?

			KAREN
	 Loud.

			BIRDIE
	 Lemme fix you a drink. 

			KAREN
	 No thanks, Birdie. 

Karen laughs with them. 

			LLOYD
	 Margo’s interview with a lady
	 reporter from the South-

			BIRDIE
	 The minute it gets printed they’re
	 gonna fire on Gettysburg all over
	 again...

			MARGO
	 It was Fort Sumter they fired on-

			BIRDIE
	 I never played Fort Sumter.

She takes the wig into the bathroom. Margo starts creaming
the make-up off her face. 

			MARGO
	 Honey chili had a point. You know,
	 I can remember plays about women -
	 even from the South - where it
	 never even occurred to them whether
	 they wanted to marry their fathers
	 more than their brothers...

			LLOYD
	 That was way back...

			MARGO
	 Within your time, buster. Lloyd,
	 honey, be a playwright with guts.
	 Write me one about a nice, normal
	 woman who shoots her husband. 

Birdie comes out of the bathroom without the wig. 

			BIRDIE
	 You need new girdles. 

			MARGO
	 Buy some. 

			BIRDIE
	 The same size? 

			MARGO
	 Of course!

			BIRDIE
	 Well. I guess a real tight girdle
	 help when you’re playin’ a lunatic.  

She picks up Lloud empty glass, asks "more"? He shakes his
head. She pours herself a quick one. 

			KAREN
		(firmly)
	 Margo does not play a lunatic,
	 Birdie. 

			BIRDIE
	 I know. She just keeps hearin’ her
	 dead father play the banjo. 

			MARGO
	 It’s the tight girdle that does it. 

			KAREN
	 I find these wisecracks
	 increasingly less funny! ’Aged in
	 Wood’ happens to be a fine and
	 distinguished play-

			LLOYD
	 - ’at’s my loyal little woman. 

			KAREN
	 The critics thought so, the
	 audiences certainly think so -
	 packed houses, tickets for months
	 in advance - I can’t see that
	 either of Lloyd’s last two plays
	 have hurt you any!

			LLOYD
	 Easy, now...

			MARGO
		(grins)
	 Relax, kid. It’s only me and my big
	 mouth...

			KAREN
		(mollified)
	 It’s just that you get me so mad
	 sometimes... of all the women in
	 the world with nothing to complain
	 about-

			MARGO
		(dryly)
	 Ain’t it the truth?

			KAREN
	 Yes, it is! You’re talented,
	 famous, wealthy - people waiting
	 around night after night just to
	 see you, even in the wind and
	 rain...

			MARGO
	 Autograph fiends! They’re not
	 people - those little beast who run
	 in packs like coyotes-

			KAREN
	 They’re your fans, your audience-

			MARGO
	 They’re nobody’s fans! They’re
	 juvenile delinquents, mental
	 detectives, they’re nobody’s
	 audience, they never see a play or
	 a movie, even - they’re never
	 indoors long enough!

There is a pause. Lloyd applauds lightly. 

			KAREN
	 Well... there’s one indoors now.
	 I’ve brought her back to see you. 

			MARGO
	 You’ve what? 

			KAREN
		(in a whisper)
	 She’s just outside the door. 

			MARGO
		(to Birdie; also a
		 whisper)
	 The heave-ho. 

Birdie starts. Karen stops her. It’s all in whisper, now,
until Eve comes in. 

			KAREN
	 You can’t put her out, I
	 promised... Margo, you’ve got to
	 see her, she worships you, it’s
	 like something out of a book-

			LLOYD
	 That book is out of print, Karen,
	 those days are gone.
	 Fans no longer pull the carriage
	 through the streets - they tear off
	 clothes and steal wrist watches...

			KAREN
	 If you’d only see her, you’re her
	 whole life - you must have spotted
	 her by now, she’s always there...

			MARGO
	 Kind of mousy trench coat and funny
	 hat?
		(Karen nods)
	 How could I miss her? Every night
	 and matinee - well...

She looks to Birdie. 

			BIRDIE
	 Once George Jessel played my
	 hometown. For a girl, gettin’ in to
	 see him was easy. Gettin’ out was
	 the problem...

They all laugh. Karen goes to the door, opens it. Eve comes
in. Karen closes the door behind her. A moment. 

			EVE
		(simply)
	 I thought you’d forgotten about me. 

			KAREN
	 Not at all. 
		(her arm through Eve’s)
	 Margo, this is Eve Harrington. 

Margo changes swiftly into a first-lady-of-the-theater
manner. 

			MARGO
		(musically)
	 How do you do, my dear. 

			BIRDIE
		(mutters)
	 Oh, brother. 

			EVE
	 Hello, Miss Channing. 

			KAREN
	 My husband...

			LLOYD
		(nicely)
	 Hello, Miss Harrington. 

			EVE
	 How do you do, Mr. Richards. 

			MARGO
		(graciously)
	 And this is my good friend and
	 companion, Miss Birdie Coonan.

			BIRDIE
	 Oh, brother. 

			MARGO
	 Miss Coonan...

			LLOYD
		(to Birdie)
	 Oh brother what? 

			BIRDIE
	 When she gets like this... all of a
	 sudden she’s playin’ Hamlet’s
	 mother...

			MARGO
		(quiet menace)
	 I’m sure you must have things to do
	 in the bathroom, Birdie dear. 

			BIRDIE
	 If I haven’t, I’ll find something
	 till you’re normal.

She goes into the bathroom. 

			MARGO
	 Dear Birdie. Won’t you sit down,
	 Miss Worthington? 

			KAREN
	 Harrington. 

			MARGO
	 I’m so sorry... Harrington. Won’t
	 you sit down? 

			EVE
	 Thank you. 

She sits. A short lull.

			MARGO
	 Would you like a drink? It’s right
	 beside you... 

			KAREN
	 I was telling Margo and Lloyd about
	 how often you’d seen the play...

They start together, and stop in deference to each other.
They’re a little flustered. But not Eve. 

			EVE
		(to Margo)
	 No, thank you.
		(to Lloyd)
	 Yes. I’ve seen every performance. 

			LLOYD
		(delighted)
	 Every performance? Then - am I safe
	 in assuming you like it? 

			EVE
	 I’d like anything Miss Channing
	 played...

			MARGO
		(beams)
	 Would you, really? How sweet-

			LLOYD
		(flatly)
	 I doubt very much that you’d like
	 her in ’The Hairy Ape’.

			EVE
	 Please, don’t misunderstand me, Mr.
	 Richards. I think that part of Miss
	 Channing’s greatness lies in her
	 ability to choose the best plays...
	 your new play is for Miss Channing,
	 isn’t it, Mr. Richards?

			MARGO
	 Of course it is.

			LLOYD
	 How’d hear about it?

			EVE
	 There was an item in the Times. i
	 like the title. ’Footsteps on the
	 Ceiling’.

			LLOYD
	 Let’s get back to this one. Have
	 you really seen every performance? 
		(Eve nods)
	 Why? I’m curious...

Eve looks at Margo, then drops her eyes. 

			EVE
	 Well. If I didn’t come to see the
	 play, I wouldn’t have anywhere else
	 to go. 

			MARGO
	 There are other plays...

			EVE
	 Not with you in them. Not by Mr.
	 Richards...

			LLOYD
	 But you must have friends, a
	 family, a home-

Eve pauses. Then shakes her head. 

			KAREN
	 Tell us about it - Eve...

Eve looks at her - grateful because Karen called her "Eve."
Then away, again...

			EVE
	 If I only knew how...

			KAREN
	 Try...

			EVE
	 Well...

Birdie comes out of the bathroom. Everybody looks at her
sharply. She realizes she’s in on something important. She
closes the door quietly, leans against it.

			EVE
	 Well... it started with the play
	 before this one...

			LLOYD
	 ’Remembrance’.

			MARGO
	 Did you see it here in New York?

			EVE
	 San Francisco. It was the last
	 week. I went one night... the most
	 important night in my life - until
	 this one. Anyway... I found myself
	 going the next night - and the next
	 and the next. Every performance.
	 Then, when the show went East - I
	 went East. 

			BIRDIE
	 I’ll never forget that blizzard the
	 night we played Cheyenne. A cold
	 night. First time I ever saw a
	 brassiere break like a piece of
	 matzos... 

Eve looks at her unsmilingly, then back to her hands. 

			KAREN
	 Eve... why don’t you start at the
	 beginning? 

			EVE
	 It couldn’t possibly interest you. 

			MARGO
	 Please...

Eve speaks simply and without self-pity. 

			EVE
	 I guess it started back home.
	 Wisconsin, that is. There was just
	 mum, and dad - and me. I was the
	 only child, and I made believe a
	 lot when I was a kid - I acted out
	 all sorts of things... what they
	 were isn’t important. But somehow
	 acting and make-believe began to
	 fill up my life more and more, it
	 got so that I couldn’t tell the
	 real from the unreal except that
	 the unreal seemed more real to
	 me... I’m talking a lot of
	 gibberish, aren’t I? 

			LLOYD
	 Not at all...

			EVE
	 Farmers were poor in those days,
	 that’s what dad was - a farmer. I
	 had to help out. So I quit school
	 and I went to Milwaukee. I became a
	 secretary. In a brewery.
		(she smiles)
	 When you’re a secretary in a
	 brewery - it’s pretty hard to make
	 believe you’re anything else.
	 Everything is beer. It wasn’t much
	 fun, but it helped at home -  and
	 there was a Little Theater Group...
	 like a drop of rain in the desert.
	 That’s where I met Eddie. He was a
	 radio technician. We played
	 ’Liliom’ for three performances, I
	 was awful - then the war came, and
	 we got married. Eddie was in the
	 air force - and they sent him to
	 the South Pacific. You were with
	 the O.W.I., weren’t you Mr.
	 Richards?
		(Lloyd nods)
	 That’s what ’Who’s Who’ says...
	 well, with Eddie gone, my life went
	 back to beer. Except for a letter a
	 week. One week Eddie wrote he had a
	 leave coming up. I’d saved my money
	 and vacation time. I went to San
	 Francisco to meet him. 
		(a slight pause)
	 Eddie wasn’t there. They forwarded
	 the telegram from Milwaukee - the
	 one that came from Washington to
	 say that Eddie wasn’t coming at
	 all. That Eddie was dead...
		(Karen puts her hand on
		 Lloyd’s)
	 ... so I figured I’d stay in San
	 Francisco. i was alone, but
	 couldn’t go back without Eddie. I
	 found a job. And his insurance
	 helped... and there were theaters
	 in San Francisco. And one night
	 Margo Channing came to play in
	 ’Remembrance’... and I went to see
	 it. And - well - here I am...

She finishes dry-eyes and self-composed. Margo squeezes the
bridge of her nose, dabs at her eyes. 

			BIRDIE
		(finally)
	 What a story. Everything but the
	 bloodhounds snappin’ at her rear
	 end...

That breaks the spell. Margo turns to her-

			MARGO
	 There are some human experiences,
	 Birdie, that do not take place in a
	 vaudeville house - and that even a
	 fifth-rate vaudevillian should
	 understand and respect!
		(to Eve)
	 I want to apologize for Birdie’s-

			BIRDIE
		(snaps in)
	 You don’t have to apologize for me!
		(to Eve)
	 I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.
	 It’s just my way of talkin’...

			EVE
		(nicely)
	 You didn’t hurt my feelings, Miss
	 Coonan...

			BIRDIE
	 Call me Birdie. 
		(to Margo)
	 As for bein’ fifth-rate - i closed
	 the first half for eleven years an’
	 you know it!

She slams into the bathroom again. At that precise instant
BILL SAMPSON flings open the door to the dressing room. He’s
youngish, vital, undisciplined. He lugs a beat-up suitcase
which he drops as he crosses to Margo-

			BILL
	 Forty-five minutes from now my
	 plane takes off and how do I find
	 you? Not ready yet, looking like a
	 junk yard-

			MARGO
	 Thank you so much. 

			BILL
	 Is it sabotage, does my career mean
	 nothing to you? Have you no human
	 consideration? 

			MARGO
	 Show me a human and I might have!

			KAREN
		(conscious of Eve)
	 Bill...

			BILL
	 The air lines have clocks, even if
	 you haven’t! I start shooting a
	 week from Monday - Zanuck is
	 impatient, he wants me, he needs
	 me!

			KAREN
		(louder)
	 Bill-

			MARGO
	 Zanuck, Zanuck, Zanuck! What are
	 you two - lovers? 

Bill grins suddenly, drops to one knee beside her.

			BILL
		(smiling)
	 Only in some ways. You’re
	 prettier...

			MARGO
	 I’m a junk yard. 

			KAREN
		(yells)
	 Bill!

			BILL
		(vaguely; to Karen)
	 Huh?

			KAREN
	 This is Eve Harrington.

Bill flashes a fleeting look at Eve. 

			BILL
	 Hi.
		(to Margo)
	 My wonderful junk yard. The mystery
	 and dreams you find in a junk yard-

			MARGO
		(kisses him)
	 Heaven help me, I love a psychotic. 

Bill grins, rises, sees Eve as if for the first time. 

			BILL
	 Hello, what’s your name? 

			EVE
	 Eve. Eve Harrington. 

			KAREN
	 You’ve already met. 

			BILL
	 Where? 

			KAREN
	 Right here. A minute ago. 

			BILL
	 That’s nice. 

			MARGO
	 She, too, is a great admirer of
	 yours. 

			BIRDIE
	 Imagine. All this admiration in
	 just one room. 

			BILL
	 Take your mistress into the
	 bathroom and dress her.
		(Birdie opens her mouth)
	 Without comment. 

Birdie shuts it and goes into the bathroom. In a moment we
hear a shower start to run. Eve gets up. 

			KAREN
	 You’re not going, are you?

			EVE
	 I think I’d better. It’s been -
	 well, I can hardly find the words
	 to say how it’s been...

			MARGO
		(rises)
	 No, don’t go...

			EVE
	 The four of you must have so much
	 to say to each other - with Mr.
	 Sampson leaving...

Margo, impulsively crosses to Eve. 

			MARGO
	 Stick around. Please. Tell you what
	 - we’ll put Stanislavsky on his
	 plane, you and I, then go somewhere
	 and talk. 

			EVE
	 Well - if I’m not in the way...

			MARGO
	 I won’t be a minute. 

She darts into the bathroom. Eve sits down again. 

			KAREN
	 Lloyd, we’ve got to go-

Lloyd gets up. Karen crosses to pound on the bathroom door.
She yells - the shower is going...

			KAREN
	 Margo, good night! I’ll call you
	 tomorrow!

Margo’s answer is lost in the shower noise. Karen crosses to
kiss Bill. She’s joined by Lloyd. 

			KAREN
	 Good luck, genius...

			BILL
	 Geniuses don’t need good luck.
		(he grins)
	 I do. 

			LLOYD
	 I’m not worried about you. 

			BILL
	 Keep the thought. 

They shake hands warmly. Karen and Lloyd move to Eve. 

			KAREN
	 Good night, Eve. I hope I see you
	 again soon-

			EVE
	 I’ll be at the old stand, tomorrow
	 matinee-

			KAREN
	 Not just that way. As a friend...

			EVE
	 I’d like that. 

			LLOYD
	 It’s been a real pleasure, Eve. 

			EVE
	 I hope so, Mr. Richards. Good
	 night...

Lloyd shakes her hand, crosses to join Karen who waits at the
open dressing room door. 

			EVE
	 Mrs. Richards.
		(Karen and Lloyd look
		 back)
	 ... I’ll never forget this night as
	 long as I live. And I’ll never
	 forget you for making it possible. 

Karen smiles warmly. She closes the door. They leave. 

			KAREN’S VOICE
	 - and I’ll never forget you, Eve.
	 Where were we going that night,
	 Lloyd and I? Funny the things you
	 remember - and the things you
	 don’t...

INT. MARGO’S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

Eve sits on the same chair. Bill keeps moving around. Eve
never takes her eyes off him. He offers her a cigarette. She
shakes her head. He looks at his watch. 

			EVE
	 You said forty-seven minutes.
	 You’ll never make it. 

			BILL
		(grins)
	 I told you a lie. We’ll make it
	 easily. Margo’s got no more
	 conception of time than a halibut. 

He goes to the dressing table, picks up Margo’s pocketbook,
opens it. He finds a letter. He glances at it, puts it back.

			BILL
	 She’s been carrying that letter
	 around for weeks. I’ve read it
	 three times...

There’s a sudden sharp yelp from the bathroom. 

			MARGO’S VOICE
	 You’re supposed to zip the zipper -
	 not me. 

			BIRDIE’S VOICE
	 Like tryin’ to zip a pretzel -
	 stand still!

Bill grins. 

			BILL
	 What a documentary those two would
	 make... like the mongoose and the
	 cobra-

He sprawls on the chaise, closes his eyes. A pause.

			EVE
		(finally)
	 So you’re going to Hollywood.

Bill grunts in the affirmative. Silence. 

			BILL
	 Why?

			EVE
	 I just wondered.

			BILL
	 Just wondered what?

			EVE
	 Why.

			BILL
	 Why what?

			EVE
	 Why you have to go out there.

			BILL
	 I don’t have to. I want to.

			EVE
	 Is it the money?

			BILL
	 Eighty percent of it will go for
	 taxes. 

			EVE
	 Then why? Why, if you’re the best
	 and most successful young director
	 in the Theater-

			BILL
	 The Theatuh, the Theatuh-
		(he sits up)
	 - what book of rules says the
	 Theater exists only within some
	 ugly buildings crowded into one
	 square mile of New York City? Or
	 London, Paris or Vienna?
		(he gets up)
	 Listen, junior. And learn. Want to
	 know what the Theater is? A flea
	 circus. Also opera. Also rodeos,
	 carnivals, ballets, Indian tribal
	 dances, Punch and Judy, a one-man
	 band - all Theater. Wherever
	 there’s magic and make-believe and
	 an audience - there’s Theater.
	 Donald Duck, Ibsen, and The Lone
	 Ranger, Sarah Bernhardt, Poodles
	 Hanneford, Lunt and Fontanne, Betty
	 Grable, Rex and Wild, and Eleanora
	 Duse. You don’t understand them
	 all, you don’t like them all, why
	 should you? The Theater’s for
	 everybody - you included, but not
	 exclusively - so don’t approve or
	 disapprove. It may not be your
	 Theater, but it’s Theater of
	 somebody, somewhere. 

			EVE
	 I just asked a simple question. 

			BILL
		(grins)
	 And I shot my mouth off. Nothing
	 personal, junior, no offense...
		(he sits back down)
	 ... it’s just that there’s so much
	 bushwah in this Ivory Green Room
	 they call the Theatuh - sometimes
	 it gets up around my chin...

He lies down again. 

			EVE
	 But Hollywood. You mustn’t stay
	 there. 

			BILL
		(he closes his eyes)
	 It’s only one picture deal. 

			EVE
	 So few come back...

			BILL
	 Yeah. They keep you under drugs out
	 there with armed guards...

A pause.

			EVE
	 I read George Jean Nathan every
	 week.

			BILL
	 Also Addison deWitt. 

			EVE
	 Every day. 

			BILL
	 You didn’t have to tell me. 

Margo, putting on an earring, buzzes out of the bathroom
followed by Birdie. Bill sits up. 

			MARGO
		(en route)
	 I understand it’s the latest thing -
	 just one earring. If it isn’t, it’s
	 going to be - I can’t find the
	 other...

She grabs her pocketbook, starts rummaging. Out comes the
letter...

			BILL
	 Throw that dreary thing away, it
	 bores me-

Margo drops it in the wastebasket, keeps rummaging. 

			EVE
		(concerned)
	 Where do you suppose it could be?

			BIRDIE
	 It’ll show up.

			MARGO
		(gives up)
	 Oh well...
		(to Birdie)
	 ... look through the wigs, maybe it
	 got caught-

			BILL
	 Real diamonds in a wig. The world
	 we live in...

			MARGO
		(she’s been looking)
	 Where’s my coat?

			BIRDIE
	 Right where you left it...

She goes behind the chaise. She comes up with a magnificent
mink. 

			BILL
		(to Margo)
	 The seams. 

Margo starts to straighten them. 

			MARGO
		(to Eve)
	 Can’t keep his eyes off my legs. 

			BILL
	 Like a nylon lemon peel-

			MARGO
		(straightens up)
	 Byron couldn’t have said it more
	 graciously... here we go-

By now she’s in the coat and has Eve’s arm, heading for the
door. Bill puts his arms around Birdie. 

			BILL
	 Got any messages? What do you want
	 me to tell Tyrone Power?

			BIRDIE
	 Just give him my phone number, I’ll
	 tell him myself. 

Bill kisses her cheek. She kisses Bill. 

			BIRDIE
	 Kill the people. 
		(to Margo)
	 Got your key?

			MARGO
		(nods)
	 See you home...

Margo and Eve precede Bill out of the door...

EXT. LAGUARDIA FIELD - NIGHT

American Airlines baggage counter. The rain has stopped, but
it’s wet. 

Margo, Eve, and Bill are stymied behind two or three couples
waiting to be checked in. Margo’s arm is through Bill’s. They
become increasingly aware of their imminent separation. Eve
senses her superfluity. 

A lull. Bill cranes at the passenger heading the line, in
earnest conversation with the dispatcher. He sighs. 

			MARGO
	 They have to time it so everybody
	 gets on at the last minute. So they
	 can close the doors and let you
	 sit. 

The man up ahead moves on.

			BILL
	 Ah...

			EVE
	 I have a suggestion.
		(they look at her)
	 There’s really not much time left -
	 I mean, you haven’t had a minute
	 alone yet, and - well, I could take
	 care of everything here and meet
	 you at the gate with the ticket...
	 if you’d like. 

			BILL
	 I think we’d like very much. Sure
	 you won’t mind?

			EVE
	 Of course not. 

Bill hands Eve the ticket. Margo smiles gratefully at her.
Eve smiles back. 

EXT. PASSAGE AND GATE - LAGUARDIA - NIGHT

It’s covered, with glass windows. Margo’s arm is in Bill’s. 

			BILL
	 She’s quite a girl, that what’s-her
	 name...

			MARGO
	 Eve. I’d forgotten they grew that
	 way...

			BILL
	 The lack of pretense, that sort of
	 strange directness and
	 understanding-

			MARGO
	 Did she tell you about the Theater
	 and what it meant? 

			BILL
		(grins)
	 I told her. I sounded off. 

			MARGO
	 All the religions in the world
	 rolled into one, and we’re Gods and
	 Goddesses... isn’t it silly,
	 suddenly I’ve developed a big
	 protective feeling for her - a lamb
	 loose in our big stone jungle...

Bill pauses and pulls her to one side. Some passengers go by.
A pause. 

			MARGO
	 Take care of yourself out there...

			BILL
	 I understand they’ve got the
	 Indians pretty well in hand...

			MARGO
	 Bill...

			BILL
	 Huh?

			MARGO
	 Don’t get stuck on some glamour
	 puss-

			BILL
	 I’ll try.

			MARGO
	 You’re not such a bargain, you
	 know, conceited and thoughtless and
	 messy-

			BILL
	 Everybody can’t be Gregory Peck.

			MARGO
	 - you’re a setup for some gorgeous
	 wide-eyed young babe.

			BILL
	 How childish are you going to get
	 before you quit it? 

			MARGO
	 I don’t want to be childish, I’d
	 settle for just a few years-

			BILL
		(firmly)
	 And cut that out right now. 

			MARGO
	 Am I going to lose you, Bill? Am I?

			BILL
	 As of this moment you’re six years
	 old...

He starts to kiss her, stops when he becomes aware of Eve
standing near them. She has his ticket in her hand. 

			EVE
	 All ready.

She hands Bill his ticket, they start toward the gate. 

INT. BOARDING GATE - LAGUARDIA - NIGHT

The D.C. 6 in the b.g. A few visitors. Bill hands his ticket
to the guard, turns to Eve. 

			BILL
	 Thanks for your help... good luck. 

			EVE
	 Goodbye, Mr. Sampson.

Bill puts his arms around Margo. 

			BILL
	 Knit me a muffler. 

			MARGO
	 Call me when you get in...

They kiss. Margo’s arms tighten desperately. Bill pulls away,
kisses her again lightly, starts for the plane. Margo turns
away. Eve puts her arms through Margo’s. 

Bill pauses en route to the plane. 

			BILL
	 Hey - junior...

Margo turns to look at him with Eve. 

			BILL
	 Keep your eyes on her. Don’t let
	 her get lonely. She’s a loose lamb
	 in a jungle...

Eve looks at Margo. Margo smiles. 

			EVE
	 Don’t worry...

Bill waves, climbs aboard. The door is closed behind him, the
departure routine starts...

Margo and eve turn to go. They walk down the passage. As they
walk, Eve gently disengages her arm from Margo’s and puts it
comfortingly about her...

			MARGO’S VOICE
	 That same night we sent for Eve’s
	 things, her few pitiful
	 possessions... she moved into the
	 little guest room on the top
	 floor...

INT. DINING HALL - NIGHT

MARGO slides her fingers reflectively up and down the sides
of the almost empty highball glass. 

			MARGO’S VOICE
	 ... she cried when she saw it - it
	 was so like her little room back
	 home in Wisconsin.

ADDISON eyeing her quizzically. He offers her the whiskey. 

MARGO shakes her head, absently. She looks down at her glass
again. Then, she raises her eyes to look at Eve. 

			MARGO’S VOICE
	 ... the next three weeks were out
	 of a fairy tale - and I was
	 Cinderella in the last act. Eve
	 became my sister, lawyer, mother,
	 friend, psychiatrist and cop - the
	 honeymoon was on...

INT. MARGO’S LIVING ROOM - DAY

It’s one floor above street level. A long narrow room,
smartly furnished - including a Sarah Siddons Award. 

MARGO’S NARRATIVE overlaps into the scene which is a SILENT
ONE. 

Eve sits at a smart desk. She is just arranging a stack of
letters which she carries to Margo with a pen. Margo sits
comfortably by the fire with a play script. She hands the
scrips up to Eve, shakes her head and holds her nose. Eve
smiles, takes the script, hands Margo the letters to sign.

Birdie comes in with a tea tray which she sets on a low table
before the fire. 

The phone rings.

Birdie and Eve both go for it. Eve gets there first. By her
polite but negative attitude, we know she is giving someone a
skillful brush-off.

Birdie glares first at her, then at Margo. 

Margo leans her head back, closes her eyes blissfully...

Birdie slams the double door to the landing on her way out...

INT. BACKSTAGE - CURRAN THEATER - DAY

From the wings. The audience is never visible. Eve in the
f.g. Margo and company taking a curtain call. Tumultuous
applause... the curtain falls. The cast, except for Margo and
two male leads, walk off. The curtain rises again...

EVE, watching and listening to the storm of applause. Her
eyes shine, she clasps and unclasps her hands...

THE STAGE, Eve again in the f.g., but closer. Again the
curtain falls. This time the two men go off. Curtain rises on
Margo alone. If anything, the applause builds...

EVE, that same hypnotic look... there are tears in her eyes.
The curtain falls offscene, then rises again - 

MARGO, the curtain falls again between her and CAMERA...

BACKSTAGE, the curtain just settling on the floor. Margo
starts off. 

			STAGE MANAGER
	 One more?

			MARGO
		(shakes her head)
	 From now on it’s not applause -
	 just something to do till the
	 aisles get less crowded...

She walks as she talks and winds up at Eve - still in the
wings. Eve’s eyes are wet, she dabs at her nose. 

			MARGO
	 What - again?

			EVE
	 I could watch you play that last
	 scene a thousand times and cry
	 every time-

			MARGO
		(grins)
	 Performance number one thousand of
	 this one - if I play it that long -
	 will take place in a well-padded
	 booby hatch...

She takes Eve’s arm, they stroll toward her dressing room. 

			EVE
	 I must say you can certainly tell
	 Mr. Sampson’s been gone a month. 

			MARGO
	 You certainly can. Especially if
	 you’re me between now and tomorrow
	 morning...

			EVE
	 I mean the performance. Except for
	 you, you’d think he’d never even
	 directed it - it’s disgraceful the
	 way they change everything
	 around...

			MARGO
		(smiles)
	 Well, teacher’s away and actors
	 will be actors...

			EVE
	 During your second act scene with
	 your father, Roger Ferraday’s
	 supposed to stay way upstage at the
	 arch. He’s been coming closer down
	 every night...

			MARGO
	 When he gets too close, I’ll spit
	 in his eye.

They’re at her dressing room by now. Margo’s been unhooking
her gown, with Eve’s help. They go in. 

INT. MARGO’S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

It’s undergone quite a change. A new carpet, chintz covers
for the furniture, new lampshades, dainty curtains across the
filthy barred window. 

Birdie waits within. She’s listening to a fight; she shuts it
off as they enter.

			MARGO
		(entering)
	 You bought the new girdles a size
	 smaller. I can feel it. 

			BIRDIE
	 Something maybe grew a size bigger.

			MARGO
	 When we get home you’re going to
	 get into one of those girdles and
	 act for two and half hours. 

			BIRDIE
	 I couldn’t get into the girdle in
	 two an’ a half hours...

Margo’s out of her wig and dress by now. She gets into her
robe, sits at the dressing table. Eve’s on the chaise, by the
discarded costume.

			EVE
	 You haven’t noticed my latest bit
	 of interior decorating...

			MARGO
		(turns, looks)
	 Well, you’ve done so much... what’s
	 new? 

			EVE
	 The curtains. I made them myself. 

			MARGO
	 They are lovely. Aren’t they
	 lovely, Birdie? 

			BIRDIE
	 Adorable. We now got everything a
	 dressing room needs except a
	 basketball hoop. 

			MARGO
	 Just because you can’t even work a
	 zipper. It was very thoughtful,
	 Eve, and I appreciate it- 

A pause. Eve rises, picking up Margo’s costume.

			EVE
	 While you’re cleaning up, I’ll take
	 this to the wardrobe mistress-

			MARGO
	 Don’t bother. Mrs. Brown’ll be
	 along for it in a minute. 

			EVE
	 No trouble at all. 

And she goes out with the costume. Birdie opens her mouth,
shuts it, then opens it again. 

			BIRDIE
	 If I may so bold as to say
	 something - did you ever hear the
	 word "union"?

			MARGO
	 Behind in your dues? How much?

			BIRDIE
	 I haven’t got a union. I’m slave
	 labor. 

			MARGO
	 Well?

			BIRDIE
	 But the wardrobe women have got
	 one. And next to a tenor, a
	 wardrobe woman is the touchiest
	 thing in show business-

			MARGO
		(catching on)
	 Oh-oh.

			BIRDIE
	 She’s got two things to do - carry
	 clothes an’ press ’em wrong - an’
	 just let anybody else muscle in...

As she talks, Margo hurries to the door and out after Eve. 

INT. BACKSTAGE - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

Margo pops out, looks for Eve, then stares in amazement. 

EVE, near the wings. She stands before a couple of cheval
mirrors set up for cast members. She has Margo’s dress held
up against her body. She turns this way and that, bows as if
to applause - mimicking Margo exactly...

MARGO watches her curiously. Then she smiles. 

			MARGO
		(calling)
	 Eve-

EVE, startled, whips the gown away, turns to Margo. 

MARGO smiles understandingly. 

			MARGO
		(quietly)
	 I think we’d better let Mrs. Brown
	 pick up the wardrobe...

Wordlessly, Eve brings it toward her...

INT. MARGO’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Margo’s asleep. A bedside clock with a luminous dial reads 3
A.M. exactly. The phone rings. Her head comes up out of the
pillow, she shakes it. She fumbles, switches on a lamp, then
picks up the phone. 

			MARGO
	 Hello..

			OPERATOR’S VOICE
	 We are ready with your call to
	 Beverly Hills...

			MARGO
	 Call, what call?

			OPERATOR’S VOICE
	 It this Templeton 89970? Miss Margo
	 Channing? 

			MARGO
	 That’s right, but I don’t
	 understand-

			OPERATOR’S VOICE
	 We are ready with the call you
	 placed for 12 midnight, California
	 time, to Mr. William Sampson in
	 Beverly Hills...

			MARGO
	 I placed...?

			OPERATOR’S VOICE
	 Go ahead, please...

			BILL’S VOICE
		(a loud, happy squawk)
	 Margo! What a wonderful surprise!

Margo jumps at his vehemence. As she does so, the SCREEN
WIPES DOWN DIAGONALLY LEFT TO RIGHT, so that Margo remains in
the lower right-hand diagonal of the screen and Bill is
disclosed in the upper left. He, too, is in bed, reading. His
clock says midnight. 

			BILL
		(continuing)
	 What a thoughtful, ever-lovin’
	 thing to do-

			MARGO
		(dazed)
	 Bill? Have I gone crazy, Bill?

			BILL
	 You’re my girl, aren’t you?

			MARGO
	 That I am...

			BILL
	 Then you’re crazy. 

			MARGO
		(nods in agreement)
	 When - when are you coming back? 

			BILL 
	 I leave in a week - the picture’s
	 all wrapped up, we previewed last
	 night... those previews. Like
	 opening out of town, but
	 terrifying. There’s nothing you can
	 do, you’re trapped, you’re in a tin
	 can-

			MARGO
	 - in a tin can, cellophane or
	 wrapped in a Navajo blanket, I want
	 you home...

			BILL 
	 You in a hurry?

			MARGO
	 A big hurry, be quick about it - so
	 good night, darling, and sleep
	 tight...

			BILL 
	 Wait a minute! You can’t hang up,
	 you haven’t even said it-

			MARGO
	 Bill, you know how much I do - but
	 over the phone, now really, that’s
	 kid stuff...

			BILL
	 Kid stuff or not, it doesn’t happen
	 every day, I want to heat it - and
	 if you won’t say it, you can sing
	 it...

			MARGO
		(convinced she’s gone mad)
	 Sing it?

			BILL 
	 Sure! Like the Western Union boys
	 used to do...

Margo’s eyes pop. Her jaw and the phone sag. 

			MARGO
	 Bill... Bill, it’s your birthday. 

			BILL 
	 And who remembered it? Who was
	 there on the dot, at twelve
	 midnight...?

Margo knows damn well it wasn’t she. 

			MARGO
		(miserably)
	 Happy birthday, darling...

			BILL 
	 The reading could have been better,
	 but you said it - now "many happy
	 returns of the day..."

			MARGO
		(the same)
	 Many happy returns of the day...

			BILL 
	 I get a party, don’t I?

			MARGO
	 Of course, birthday and welcome
	 home... who’ll I ask?

			BILL 
		(laughs)
	 It’s no secret, I know all about
	 the party - Eve wrote me...

			MARGO
	 She did...?

			 BILL 
	 She hasn’t missed a week since I
	 left - but you know all that, you
	 probably tell her what to write...
	 anyway, I sent her a list of people
	 to ask - check with her. 

			MARGO
	 Yeah... I will.

			BILL 
	 How is Eve? Okay?

			MARGO
	 Okay. 

			BILL 
	 I love you...

			MARGO
		(mutters)
	 I’ll check with Eve...

			BILL
	 What? 

			MARGO
	 I love you too. Good night, darling-

			BILL 
	 See you...

Margo hangs up. Bill hangs up. He replaces the phone, picks
up his book... SLOW WIPE until ONLY MARGO is on screen. She
puts her phone away. She gets a cigarette. She lights it. She
rolls over on her back...

INT. MARGO’S BEDROOM - DAY

Margo is propped up in bed, still reflective. Birdie comes in
with her breakfast tray and a "hi" which gets a "hi" from
Margo. She starts on some petty chores. Margo takes a sip of
orange juice...

			MARGO
	 Birdie-

			BIRDIE
	 Hmm?

			MARGO
	 You don’t like Eve, do you?

			BIRDIE
	 Do you want an argument or an
	 answer?

			MARGO
	 An answer. 

			BIRDIE
	 No. 

			MARGO
	 Why not?

			BIRDIE
	 Now you want an argument. 

			MARGO
	 She works hard. 

			BIRDIE
	 Night an’ day. 

			MARGO
	 She’s loyal and efficient-

			BIRDIE
	 Like an agent with one client.

			MARGO
	 She thinks only for me...
		(no answer from Birdie)
	 ... doesn’t she? 

			BIRDIE
		(finally)
	 Well... let’s say she thinks only
	 about you, anyway...

			MARGO
	 How do you mean that?

Birdie stops whatever it is she’s doing.

			BIRDIE
	 I’ll tell you how. Like - let’s see
	 - like she was studyin’ you, like
	 you were a play or a book or a set
	 of blueprints. How you walk, talk,
	 think, eat, sleep-

			MARGO
		(breaks in; sharply)
	 I’m sure that’s very flattering,
	 Birdie, and I’m sure there’s
	 nothing wrong with that!

There is a sharp, brisk knock. Eve comes in. She’s dressed in
a smart suit. She carries a leather portfolio.

			EVE
	 Good morning!

Margo says "good morning," Birdie says nothing. Eve shows off
the suit, proudly. 

			EVE
	 Well - what do you think of my
	 elegant new suit? 

			MARGO
	 Very becoming. It looks better on
	 you than it did on me. 

			EVE
		(scoffs)
	 I can imagine... you know, all it
	 needed was some taking in here and
	 letting out there - are you sure
	 you won’t want it yourself? 

			MARGO
	 Quite sure. I find it just a bit
	 too - too "Seventeenish" for me...

			EVE 
		(laughs)
	 Oh, come now, as though you were an
	 old lady... I’m on my way. Is there
	 anything more you’ve thought of-?

			MARGO
	 There’s the script to go back to
	 the Guild-

			EVE
	 I’ve got it. 

			MARGO
	 - and those checks or whatever it
	 is for the income tax man. 

			EVE
	 Right here. 

			MARGO
	 It seems I can’t think of a thing
	 you haven’t thought of...

			EVE
		(smile)
	 That’s my job.
		(she turns to go)
	 See you at tea time...

			MARGO
	 Eve...
		(Eve turns at the door)
	 ... by any chance, did you place a
	 call from me to Bill for midnight
	 California time? 

			EVE
		(gasps)
	 Oh, golly. And I forgot to tell you-

			MARGO
	 Yes, dear. You forgot all about it. 

			EVE
	 Well, I was sure you’d want to, of
	 course, being his birthday, and
	 you’ve been so busy these past few
	 days, and last night I meant to
	 tell you before you went out with
	 the Richards - and I guess I was
	 asleep when you got home...

			MARGO
	 Yes, I guess you were. It - it was
	 very thoughtful of you, Eve. 

			EVE
	 Mr. Sampson’s birthday. I certainly
	 wouldn’t forget that. You’d never
	 forgive me. 
		(she smiles shyly)
	 As a matter of fact, I sent him a
	 telegram myself...

And she’s gone. Margo stares at the closed door. Then at
Birdie. Birdie, without comment, goes out. Margo, alone,
looks down at her orange juice. Absently, she twirls it in
its bed of shaved ice...

INT. DINING HALL - SARAH SIDDONS SOCIETY - NIGHT

MARGO, reflectively twirling her highball glass. The applause
continues. She lifts her glass to drink. Her glance meets
Karen’s. She raises the glass in a silent toast.   

KAREN smiles wanly at Margo’s toast. Then the smile fades as
she looks reflectively back to Eve...

			KAREN’S VOICE
	 I saw Eve quite often after our
	 first meeting, but we never really
	 talked again - until the party
	 Margo gave for Bill when he
	 returned from Hollywood...

INT. MARGO’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

It’s January. The bed is littered with fur coats. Through the
open door, from the floor below, the murmur of a party at a
late hour. No hilarity. 

			KAREN’S VOICE
	 It’s always convenient at a party
	 to know the hostess well enough to
	 use her bedroom rather than go
	 where all the others have to go...

Karen is making repairs at Margo’s dressing table. Eve
enters, carrying a magnificent sable coat which she drops on
the bed. 

			KAREN
	 Now who’s show up at this hour?
	 It’s time people went home - hold
	 that coat up...
		(Eve holds it up; Karen
		 whistles)
	 ... whose is it? 

			EVE
	 Some Hollywood movie star, her
	 plane got in late. 

			KAREN
	 Discouraging, isn’t it? Women with
	 furs like that where it never gets
	 cold...

			EVE
	 Hollywood. 

			KAREN
	 Tell me, Eve - how are things with
	 you? Happy? 

Eve melts into warmth. She beams, sits on the bed. Karen has
spun around on the dressing table stool. 

			EVE
	 There should be a new word for
	 happiness. Being here with Miss
	 Channing has been - I just can’t
	 say, she’s been so wonderful, done
	 so much for me-

			KAREN
		(smiles)
	 Lloyd says Margo compensates for
	 underplaying on the stage by
	 overplaying reality...
		(she gets up, gets her
		 coat)
	 ... next to that sable, my new mink
	 seems like an old bedjacket... 
		(throws it over her
		 shoulder)
	 ... you’ve done your share, Eve.
	 You’ve worked wonders with Margo...

She starts out. 

			EVE
		(hesitantly)
	 Mrs. Richards. 

			KAREN
		(pauses, smiles)
	 Karen.

			EVE
	 Karen...
		(she picks at the
		 coverlet)
	 ... isn’t it awful, I’m about to
	 ask you for another favor - after
	 all you’ve already done. 

			KAREN
		(crosses to her)
	 Nobody’s done so much, Eve, you’ve
	 got to stop thinking of yourself as
	 one of the Hundred Neediest
	 Cases... what is it? 

			EVE
	 Well... Miss Channing’s affairs are
	 in such good shape... there isn’t
	 enough to keep me as busy as I
	 should be, really - not that I’ve
	 ever considered anything that would
	 take me away from her... but the
	 other day - when I heard Mr. Fabian
	 tell Miss Channing that her
	 understudy was going to have a
	 baby, and they’d have to replace
	 her... 

She looks down at the coverlet once more. 

			KAREN
	 ... you want to be Margo’s new
	 understudy. 

			EVE
	 I don’t let myself think about it,
	 even- 
		(she looks up, rises as
		 she speaks)
	 - but I do know the part so well,
	 and every bit of the staging,
	 there’d be no need to break in a
	 new girl-
		(suddenly afraid, she
		 sits)
	 - but suppose I had to go on one
	 night? To an audience that came to
	 see Margo Channing. No, I couldn’t
	 possibly...

			KAREN
		(laughs)
	 Don’t worry too much about that.
	 Margo just doesn’t miss
	 performances. If she can walk,
	 crawl or roll - she plays. 

			EVE
		(nods proudly)
	 The show must go on. 

			KAREN
	 No, dear. Margo must go on. 
		(she sits beside Eve)
	 As a matter of fact, I see no
	 reason why you shouldn’t be Margo’s
	 understudy...

			EVE
	 Do you think Miss Channing would
	 approve?

			KAREN
	 I think she would cheer. 

			EVE
	 But Mr. Richards and Mr. Sampson-

			KAREN
	 They’ll do as they’re told.

Eve smiles a little. A pause. 

			EVE
	 Then - would you talk to Mr. Fabian
	 about it? 

			KAREN
	 Of course. 

			EVE
	 You won’t forget it?

			KAREN
	 I won’t forget. 

			EVE
	 I seem to be forever thanking you
	 for something, don’t I?

She hugs Karen, leaves. She nearly collides with Birdie on
her way in. 

			BIRDIE
	 The bed looks like a dead animal
	 act. Which one is sables?

			KAREN
		(pointing)
	 But she just got here...

			BIRDIE
	 She’s on her way. With half the men
	 in the joint. 
		(she hold up the coat)
	 It’s only a fur coat...

			KAREN
	 What did you expect - live sables?

			BIRDIE
	 A diamond collar, gold sleeves -
	 you know, picture people...

They start out. 

			KAREN
	 Bill says actors out there eat just
	 as infrequently as here-

			BIRDIE
	 They can always grab oranges off
	 trees. This you can’t do in Times
	 Square...

Through the open door, we see them go down the stairs and out
of sight. 

INT. SECOND FLOOR LANDING AND STAIRS - NIGHT

Karen and Birdie come down the stairs to Bill, Max, Addison,
a blonde young lady named MISS CASWELL (Addison’s protegee-of
the-moment) - and, at the feet of Bill and Addison... Eve.
They are all seated on the steps.

Birdie goes through and down the stairs to the first floor.
Karen remains with the others. 

Addison is holding forth:

			ADDISON 
	 Every now and then, some elder
	 statesman of the Theater or cinema
	 assures the public that actors and
	 actresses are just plain folk.
	 Ignoring the fact that their
	 greatest attraction to the public
	 is their complete lack of
	 resemblance to normal human beings.

			MISS CASWELL
		(as Birdie and the sables
		 pass)
	 Now there’s something a girl could
	 make sacrifices for. 

			BILL’S VOICE
	 And probably has. 

			MISS CASWELL
	 Sable. 

			MAX
		(to Miss Caswell)
	 Did you say sable - or Gable?

			MISS CASWELL
	 Either one. 

			ADDISON
	 It is senseless to insist that
	 theatrical folk in New York,
	 Hollywood and London are no
	 different from the good people of
	 Des Moines, Chillicothe and
	 Liverpool. By and large, we are
	 concentrated gatherings of
	 neurotics, egomaniacs, emotional
	 misfits, and precocious children-

			MAX
		(to Bill)
	 Gable. Why a feller like that don’t
	 come East to do a play...

			BILL 
		(nods)
	 He must be miserable, the life he
	 lives out there-

			ADDISON
	 These so-called abnormalities -
	 they’re our stock in trade, they
	 make us actors, writers, directors,
	 et cetera in the first place-

			MAX
	 Answer me this. What makes a man
	 become a producer?

			ADDISON 
	 What makes a man walk into a lion
	 cage with nothing but a chair?

			MAX
	 This answer satisfies me a hundred
	 percent. 

			ADDISON 
	 We all have abnormality in common.
	 We are a breed apart from the rest
	 of the humanity, we Theater folk.
	 We are the original displaced
	 personalities...

			BILL 
		(laughs; to Eve)
	 You don’t have to read his column
	 tomorrow - you just heard it. I
	 don’t agree, Addison...

			ADDISON
	 That happens to be your particular
	 abnormality. 

			BILL 
	 Oh, I admit there’s a screwball
	 element in the Theater. It sticks
	 out, it’s got spotlights on it and
	 a brass band. But it isn’t basic,
	 it isn’t standard - if it were, the
	 Theater couldn’t survive...

			MISS CASWELL
		(to a passing butler)
	 Oh, waiter...

The butler goes right by.

			ADDISON
	 That isn’t a waiter, my dear.
	 That’s a butler. 

			MISS CASWELL
	 Well, I can’t yell "Oh, butler,"
	 can I? Maybe somebody’s name is
	 Butler...

			ADDISON 
	 You have a point. An idiotic one,
	 but a point. 

			MISS CASWELL
	 I don’t want to make trouble. All I
	 want is a drink. 

			MAX
		(getting up)
	 Leave me get you one...

			MISS CASWELL
		(pitching)
	 Oh, thank you, Mr. Fabian.

Max leaves with her empty glass. 

			ADDISON
	 Well done. I see your career rising
	 in the East like the sun...
		(to Bill)
	 ... you were saying?

			BILL 
	 I was saying that the Theater is
	 nine-tenths hard work. Work done
	 the hard way - by sweat,
	 application and craftsmanship. I’ll
	 agree to this - that to be a good
	 actor, actress, or anything else in
	 the Theater, means wanting to be
	 that more than anything else in the
	 world...

			EVE
		(abruptly)
	 Yes. Yes, it does. 

			BILL
		(goes on)
	 It means concentration of ambition,
	 desire, and sacrifice such as no
	 other profession demands... And
	 I’ll agree that the man or woman
	 who accepts those terms can’t be
	 ordinary, can’t be - just someone.
	 To give so much for almost always
	 so little...

Eve speaks almost unaware of what she says. She looks at no
one in particular, just off...

			EVE
	 So little. So little, did you say?
	 Why, if there’s nothing else -
	 there’s applause. It’s like - like
	 waves of love coming over the
	 footlights and wrapping you up.
	 Imagine...
	 To know, every night, that
	 different hundreds of people love
	 you... they smile, their eyes shine
	 - you’ve pleased them, they want
	 you, you belong. Just that alone is
	 worth anything...

She becomes aware of Addison’s strange smile, of Bill’s looks
of warm interest. She’s embarrassed, she turns away - then
scrambles to her feet as Margo approaches with Lloyd from the
direction of the pantry. 

Margo’s had too much to drink. Her fake smile fades as Eve
gets up. She’s unpleasant and depressed. 

			MARGO
	 Don’t get up. And please stop
	 acting as if I were the queen
	 mother. 

			EVE
		(hurt)
	 I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-

			BILL
		(sharply)
	 Outside of a beehive, Margo, your
	 behavior would hardly be considered
	 either queenly or motherly!

			MARGO
	 You’re in a beehive, pal, didn’t
	 you know? We’re all busy little
	 bees, full of stings, making honey
	 day and night-
		(to Eve)
	 - aren’t we, honey?

			KAREN
	 Margo, really...

			MARGO
	 Please don’t play governess, Karen,
	 I haven’t your unyielding good
	 taste, I wish I’d gone to Radcliffe
	 too but father wouldn’t hear of it -
	 he needed help at the notions
	 counter...
		(to Addison)
	 I’m being rude now, aren’t I? OR
	 should I say "ain’t I"?

			ADDISON
	 You’re maudlin and full of self
	 pity. You’re magnificent. 

Max has come up with Miss Caswell’s drink. 

			LLOYD
	 How about calling it a night?

			MARGO
	 And you pose as a playwright. A
	 situation pregnant with
	 possibilities - and all you can
	 think of is everybody to go to
	 sleep...

			BILL
	 It’s a good thought. 

			MARGO
	 It won’t play. 

			KAREN
	 As a nonprofessional, I think it’s
	 an excellent idea. Undramatic, but
	 practical...

As she speaks, she makes her way to Lloyd’s side. 

			MARGO
	 Happy little housewife...

			BILL
	 Cut it out.

			MARGO
	 This is my house, not a theater! In
	 my house you’re a guest, not a
	 director-!

			KAREN
	 Then stop being a star - start
	 treating your guests as your
	 supporting cast!

			ADDISON
	 Hear, hear...

			LLOYD
	 Now let’s not get into a big hassle-

			KAREN 
	 It’s about time we did! It’s about
	 time Margo realized that what’s
	 attractive on stage need not
	 necessarily be attractive off.

			MARGO
		(suddenly)
	 All right! I’m going to bed.
		(to Bill)
	 You be the host. It’s your party.
	 Happy Birthday, welcome home, and
	 we-who-are-about-to-die-salute-you.

She starts upstairs.

			BILL
	 Need any help?

			MARGO
		(pauses, smiles)
	 To put me to bed? Take my clothes
	 off, hold my head, tuck me in, turn
	 off the lights, tiptoe out...? eve
	 would. Wouldn’t you, Eve?

			EVE
	 If you’d like. 

			MARGO
	 I wouldn’t like. 

She goes up, exits out of sight. A pause. Miss Caswell
reaches up to take the drink out of Max’s hand. 

			MAX
	 I forgot I had it. 

			MISS CASWELL
	 I didn’t. 

Bill gets up and goes after Margo...

			ADDISON
	 Too bad! We’ll miss the third act.
	 They’re going to play it off stage. 

Eve turns away abruptly, in sudden tears. 

			LLOYD
	 Coming?

			KAREN 
	 In a minute...

She crosses to Eve, puts an arm around her. 

			KAREN 
	 You mustn’t mind Margo too much,
	 even if I do...

			EVE
	 But there must be some reason,
	 something I’ve done without
	 knowing...

			KAREN 
	 The reason is Margo and don’t try
	 to figure it out. Einstein
	 couldn’t. 

			EVE
	 If I thought I’d offended her, of
	 all people-

			KAREN 
	 Eve. I’m fond of Margo too. But I
	 know Margo. And every now and then
	 there is nothing I want to do so
	 much as to kick her right square in
	 the pants.

			EVE
		(smiles)
	 Well - if she’s got to pick on
	 someone, I’d just as soon it was
	 me.

Karen smiles back. She joins Lloyd and Max. 

			LLOYD
	 Max is going to drop us...

			ADDISON 
	 I’ve often wondered, Max, why you
	 bother with a chauffeur and
	 limousine in New York City.

			MAX
	 In my case it’s necessary. Too many
	 taxi drivers write plays. 

			ADDISON 
	 And too many of them are produced. 

			MISS CASWELL
	 Let’s go sit by the piano. 

			ADDISON
	 You have me confused with Dan
	 Dailey. You go sit by the piano.
		(to Eve)
	 And you come sit by me.
		(to the others)
	 Good night. 

They laugh, say "good night," and start downstairs. As Eve
crosses to Addison:

			EVE
	 Karen...
		(Karen pauses)
	 ... you won’t forget, will you?
	 What we talked about before?

			KAREN
		(smiles)
	 No, Eve, I won’t forget...

She follows the men downstairs. CLOSE UP of an old engraving
of Mrs. Siddons as ’The Tragic Muse’ which hangs among other
theatrical mementos on the stair wall...

INT. DINING HALL - SARAH SIDDONS SOCIETY - NIGHT

The applause continues. Margo sits back in her chair now,
picking at a bit of fingernail polish...

			MARGO’S VOICE
	 Bill’s welcoming-home-birthday
	 party... a night to go down in
	 history. Like the Chicago Fire - or
	 the Massacre of the Huguenots. Even
	 before the party started, I could
	 smell disaster in the air...

INT. MARGO’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The same night as the previous sequence, but before the party
has started. Margo is all dressed except for jewelry. She
stands before her dressing table putting it on. She sips at
an enormous Martini...

			MARGO’S VOICE
	 I knew it, I sensed it even as I
	 finished dressing for that blasted
	 party...

Birdie comes in. 

			BIRDIE
	 You all put together? 

			MARGO
	 My back’s open.
		(Birdie goes to work on
		 it)
	 Did the extra help get here?

			BIRDIE
	 There’s some loose characters
	 dressed like maids and butlers.
	 Who’d you call - the William Morris
	 Agency?

			MARGO
	 You’re not being funny, I could get
	 actors for less. What about the
	 food? 

			BIRDIE
	 The caterer had to back for hors
	 d’oeuvres-
		(she zips Margo)
	 Voila. 

			MARGO
		(laughs)
	 That French ventriloquist taught
	 you a lot, didn’t he?

			BIRDIE
	 There was nothing he didn’t know.
		(she starts tidying the
		 room)
	 There’s a message from the
	 bartender. Does Miss Channing know
	 we ordered domestic gin by mistake?

			MARGO
	 The only thing I ordered by mistake
	 is the guests.
		(Birdie cackles)
	 They’re domestic, too, and they
	 don’t care what they drink as long
	 as it burns... where’s Bill? He’s
	 late. 

			BIRDIE
	 Late for what?

			MARGO
	 Don’t be dense. The party. 

			BIRDIE
	 I ain’t dense. And he’s been here
	 twenty minutes. 

			MARGO
	 Well, I certainly think it’s odd he
	 hasn’t even come up...

Her glance meets Birdie’s. She turns and strolls out. 

INT. THIRD FLOOR LANDING - NIGHT

Margo speeds up going down the stairs. 

INT. SECOND FLOOR LANDING - NIGHT

Margo shows up again deliberately as she reaches the landing.
Sound of Bill and Eve laughing together from the living room.
Margo strolls toward it casually. 

We see Eve seated, looking up fascinated at Bill as he talks -
out of the laughter...

			BILL 
	 "Don’t let it worry you," said the
	 cameraman, "Even DeMille couldn’t
	 see anything looking through the
	 wrong end-"
		(Eve chuckles)
	 So that was the first and last time-

Eve sees Margo approach. She gets up. Bill turns. 

INT. MARGO’S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

As Margo strolls up, very off-hand.

			MARGO
	 Don’t let me kill the point. Or
	 isn’t it a story for grownups?

			BILL 
	 You’ve heard it. About when I
	 looked through the wrong end of a
	 camera finder. 

			MARGO
		(to Eve)
	 Remind me to tell you about when I
	 looked into the heart of an
	 artichoke. 

			EVE
	 I’d like to hear it. 

			MARGO
	 Some snowy night in front of the
	 fire... in the meantime, while
	 we’re on the subject, will you
	 check about the hors d’oeuvres? The
	 caterer forgot them, the varnish
	 wasn’t dry or something...

			EVE
	 Of course.

She leaves. A short lull. Margo looks into cigarette boxes.
Bill eyes her curiosity, crosses to the fire. 

			BILL 
	 Looks like I’m going to have a very
	 fancy party...

			MARGO
	 I thought you were going to be late-

			BILL 
	 When I’m guest of honor?

			MARGO 
	 I had no idea you were even here. 

			BILL 
	 I ran into Eve on my way upstairs;
	 she told me you were dressing. 

			MARGO
	 That never stopped you before. 

			BILL 
	 Well, we started talking, she
	 wanted to know all about Hollywood,
	 she seemed so interested...

			MARGO
	 She’s a girl of so many interests. 

			BILL 
	 It’s a pretty rare quality these
	 days. 

			MARGO
	 She’s a girl of so many rare
	 qualities. 

			BILL 
	 So she seems. 

			MARGO
		(the steel begins to
		 flash)
	 So you’ve pointed out, so often. So
	 many qualities, so often. Her
	 loyalty, efficiency, devotion,
	 warmth, affection - and so young.
	 So young and so fair...

Bill catches the drift. Incredulously. 

			BILL 
	 I can’t believe you’re making this
	 up - it sounds like something out
	 of an old Clyde Fitch play...

			MARGO
	 Clyde Fitch, thought you may not
	 think so, was well before my time!

			BILL 
		(laughs)
	 I’ve always denied the legend that
	 you were in ’Our American Cousin’
	 the night Lincoln was shot...

			MARGO
	 I don’t think that’s funny!

			BILL 
	 Of course it’s funny - this is all
	 too laughable to be anything else.
	 You know what I think about this -
	 this age obsession of yours - and
	 now this ridiculous attempt to whip
	 yourself up into a jealous froth
	 because I spent ten minutes with a
	 stage-struck kid-

			MARGO
	 Twenty minutes!

			BILL 
	 Thirty minutes, forty minutes! What
	 of it?

			MARGO
	 Stage-struck kid... she’s a young
	 lady - of qualities. And I’ll have
	 you know I’m fed up with both the
	 young lady and her qualities!
	 Studying me as if - as if I were a
	 play or a set of blueprints! How I
	 walk, talk, think, eat, sleep!

			BILL 
	 Now how can you take offense at a
	 kid trying in every way to be as
	 much like her ideal as possible! 

			MARGO
	 Stop calling her a kid! It so
	 happens there are particular
	 aspects of my life to which I would
	 like to maintain sole and exclusive
	 rights and privileges!

			BILL 
	 For instance what?

			MARGO
	 For instance - you!

			BILL 
	 This is my cue to take you in my
	 arms and reassure you - but I’m not
	 going to. I’m too mad-

			MARGO
	 - guilty.

			BILL 
	 Mad! Darling, there are certain
	 characteristics for which you are
	 famous - on stage and off. I love
	 you for some of them - and in spite
	 of others. I haven’t let those
	 become too important to me. They’re
	 part of your equipment for getting
	 along in what is laughably called
	 out environment - you’ve got to
	 keep your teeth sharp. All right.
	 But you will not sharpen them on me
	 - or on Eve...

			MARGO
	 What about her teeth? What about
	 her fangs? 

			BILL 
	 She hasn’t cut them yet, and you
	 know it! So when you start judging
	 an idealistic dreamy-eyed kid by
	 the barroom, Benzedrine standards
	 of this megalomaniac society - I
	 won’t have it! Eve Harrington has
	 never by word, look, thought or
	 suggestion indicated anything to me
	 but her adoration for you and her
	 happiness at our being in love! And
	 to intimate anything else doesn’t
	 spell jealousy to me - it spells a
	 paranoic insecurity that you should
	 be ashamed of!

			MARGO
	 Cut! Print it! What happens in the
	 next reel? Do I get dragged off
	 screaming to the snake pit? 

			EVE’S VOICE
		(quietly)
	 Miss Channing?

Bill and Margo look off. Eve is in the room. They have no way
of knowing how long she’s been there. 

			EVE
	 The hors d’oeuvres are here. Is
	 there anything else I can do? 

			MARGO
	 Thank you, Eve. I’d like a Martini -
	 very dry. 

			BILL 
	 I’ll get it.
		(he crosses to Eve)
	 What’ll you have? 

Eve, involuntarily, looks to Margo.

			MARGO
	 A milkshake?

Eve smiles, turns to Bill. 

			EVE
	 A Martini. Very dry, please...

Bill smiles back and starts across the landing toward the
pantry. As he crosses the stairs, Karen, Lloyd and Max come
up from the street level below. General greetings. Bill
continues up to pantry. Eve and then Margo come up to add
their welcome...

			EVE
		(to Karen)
	 May I have your coat?

			KAREN
	 Don’t bother, I can take it up
	 myself...

			EVE
	 Please...

Karen yields with a "thank you, Eve-." Eve goes up with the
coat. Lloyd looks after her approvingly.

			LLOYD
	 I like that girl. That quality of
	 quiet graciousness...

			MARGO
	 ... Among so many quiet qualities.

They start for the living room.

			KAREN 
	 Margo, nothing you’ve ever done has
	 made me as happy as your taking Eve
	 in...

			MARGO
	 I’m so happy you’re happy. 

			MAX
	 Look, you haven’t been running a
	 settlement house exactly - the
	 kid’s earned her way. You had a
	 pretty mixed-up inventory when she
	 took over - merchandise laying all
	 over the shop...

			LLOYD
	 You’ve got Margo mixed up with a
	 five-and-ten-cent store...

			MARGO
	 Make it Bergdorf Goodman... and now
	 everything is on its proper shelf,
	 eh, Max? Done up in little ribbons.
	 I could die right now and nobody’d
	 be confused. How about you, Max?

			MAX
	 How about me what? 

They’ve come to a halt near the fireplace. 

			MARGO
	 Supposed you dropped dead. What
	 about your inventory?

			MAX
	 I ain’t gonna die. Not with a hit. 

			KAREN 
	 This is the most ghoulish
	 conversation...

Bill brings two Martinis. He hands one to Margo. 

			MARGO
		(it drips ice)
	 Thank you. 

			BILL 
	 Nothing, really...

			MARGO
	 The kid - junior, that is - will be
	 right down. Unless you’d like to
	 take her drink up to her...

			BILL 
		(smiles)
	 I can always get a fresh one. Karen
	 - you’re a Gibson girl...

He hands Eve’s drink to Karen. Max has wandered off. Other
guests are arriving. Margo gulps her drink, hands Bill the
empty glass. He puts it on a passing tray. Margo takes a
fresh one at the same time. 

			LLOYD
	 The general atmosphere is very
	 Macbethish. What has or is about to
	 happen? 

			MARGO
		(to Bill)
	 What is he talking about? 

			BILL 
	 Macbeth. 

			KAREN 
		(to Margo)
	 We know you, we’ve seen you before
	 like this. Is it over - or just
	 beginning? 

Margo surveys them all. 

			MARGO
	 Fasten your seat belts. It’s going
	 to be a bumpy night. 

She downs the drink, hands the empty glass to Bill, and
leaves them. She passes two women, gabbing by the piano. As
they see her:

			WOMAN #1
	 Margo, darling!

			WOMAN #2
	 Darling!

			MARGO
		(passing)
	 Darlings...

She arrives at the landing just as Addison comes up with Miss
Caswell. Margo takes a drink from a passing tray. 

			MARGO
		(to Addison)
	 I distinctly remember striking your
	 name from the guest list. What are
	 you doing here?

			ADDISON
	 Dear Margo. You were an
	 unforgettable Peter Pan - you must
	 play it again, soon. You remember
	 Miss Caswell?

			MARGO
	 I do not. How do you do?

			MISS CASWELL
	 We never met. That’s why. 

			ADDISON
	 Miss Caswell is an actress. A
	 graduate of Copacabana School of
	 Dramatic Arts. 
		(his glance is attracted
		 by Eve coming downstairs)
	 Ah... Eve.

			EVE
		(deferentially)
	 Good evening, Mr. deWitt.

			MARGO
	 I had no idea you knew each other.

			ADDISON 
	 This must be, at long last, our
	 formal introduction. Until now we
	 have met only in passing...

			MISS CASWELL
	 That’s how you met me. In passing. 

			MARGO
		(smiles)
	 Eve, this is an old friend of Mr.
	 deWitt’s mother - Miss Caswell,
	 Miss Harrington...
		(the two girls say hello)
	 Addison, I’ve been wanting you to
	 meet Eve for the longest time-

			ADDISON
		(murmurs)
	 It could only have been your
	 natural timidity that kept you from
	 mentioning it...

			MARGO
	 You’ve heard of her great interest
	 in the Theater-

			ADDISON
	 We have that in common. 

			MARGO
	 Then you two must have a long talk-

			EVE
	 I’m afraid Mr. deWitt would find me
	 boring before too long. 

			MISS CASWELL
	 You won’t bore him, honey. You
	 won’t even get to talk. 

			ADDISON
		(icily)
	 Claudia dear, come closer.
		(she does, and he points)
	 This is Max Fabian. He is a
	 producer. Go do yourself some good. 

			MISS CASWELL
		(sighs)
	 Why do they always look like
	 unhappy rabbits? 

			ADDISON
	 Because that is what they are. Go
	 make him happy. 

Miss Caswell drapes her coat over the rail, heads for Max.
Addison puts Eve’s arm in his. 

			ADDISON
		(to Margo)
	 You mustn’t worry about your little
	 charge. She is in safe hands. 

			MARGO
	 Amen.

Eve smiles uncertainly at Margo as he leads her away. Margo
looks after them. She downs her drink...

INT. MARGO’S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

It’s many Martinis later. Most of the guests have gone. The
party has reached that static state - everyone’s assumed more
or less permanent places. 

Birdie passes, carrying a cup of coffee. CAMERA FOLLOWS her
to the piano where Margo sits on the bench beside the
pianist. He is just finishing "Liebestraum" and she stares
moodily into a Martini. Birdie halts beside her with the
coffee. Margo looks up. Birdie holds out the coffee. Margo
takes the onion out of the Martini, drops it into the coffee
and waves Birdie away. Birdie goes. "Liebestraum" comes to an
end. The pianist tries to ease into a more sophisticated
rhythm. Margo stops him. 

			MARGO
		(quietly)
	 "Liebestraum."

			PIANIST
	 I just played it. 

			MARGO
	 Play it again. 

			PIANIST
	 But that was the fourth straight
	 time. 

			MARGO
	 Then this will be five. I suppose
	 you think I’m too drunk to count. 

			PIANIST
	 No. You’re just crazy about
	 "Liebestraum."

			MARGO
	 "Liebestraum."

			PIANIST
	 Look, Miss Channing... it’s kind of
	 depressing. If you don’t mind my
	 saying so, everybody’s kind of
	 dying on the vine...

			MARGO
	 My dear Horowitz. In the first
	 place, I’m paying you union scale.
	 Second, it’s my piano. Third, if
	 everybody doesn’t like kind of
	 dying on the vine, they can get off
	 the vine and go home.
	 "Liebestraum."

Unhappily, he plays "Liebestraum." Margo sips her Martini,
stares down into it again. Bill tiptoes up. 

			BILL
		(whispers)
	 Many of your guests have been
	 wondering when they may be
	 permitted to view the body. Where
	 has it been laid out? 

			MARGO
		(somberly)
	 It hasn’t been laid out, we haven’t
	 finished with the embalming. As a
	 matter of fact, you’re looking at
	 it. The remains of Margo Channing.
	 Sitting up. It is my last wish to
	 be buried sitting up. 

			BILL 
		(trying to kid her out of
		 it)
	 Wouldn’t you feel more natural
	 taking a bow?

			MARGO
	 You know nothing about feelings,
	 natural or unnatural. 

			BILL 
	 Then without feeling, your guests
	 were also wondering whether the
	 music couldn’t be a shade more on
	 the - shall we say, happier side?

			MARGO
	 If my guests do not like it here, I
	 suggest they accompany you to the
	 nursery where I’m sure you will all
	 feel more at home. 

Bill is about to get mad - when Max bustles up. 

			MAX
	 Margo. You by any chance got
	 bicarbonate of soda in the house?

			MARGO
		(sympathetic)
	 Poor Max. Heartburn?
		(Max nods)
	 It’s that Miss Caswell. I don’t
	 know why she doesn’t give Addison
	 heartburn. 

			BILL 
	 No heart to burn. 

			MARGO
	 Everybody has a heart - except some
	 people.
		(she finishes her drink,
		 stands up)
	 Of course I’ve got bicarb. There’s
	 a box in the pantry. We’ll put your
	 name on it. Max Fabian. It’ll say
	 there. Always. Just for you. 

			MAX
		(touched)
	 Let the rest of the world beat
	 their brains out for a buck. It’s
	 friends that count. And I got
	 friends. 

			MARGO
	 I love you, Max. I really mean it.
	 I love you. Come to the pantry. 

She takes off. Max waits to set Bill straight. 

			MAX
	 She loves me like a father. Also,
	 she’s loaded. 

He starts off after Margo. As the CAMERA PANS with Bill we
see Margo going into the pantry with Max following her. Bill
joins Addison and Miss Caswell on the stairs. 

INT. PANTRY - NIGHT

It’s a good sized one. In the b.g., the caterers are packing
dishes, glassware, etc. Margo crosses to a cupboard. She
finds the bicarb. 

			MARGO
	 Here you are, Maxie dear. One good
	 burp and you’ll be rid of that Miss
	 Caswell...

			MAX
	 The situation I’m in ain’t the kind
	 you can belch your way out. I made
	 a promise...

			MARGO
	 Miss Caswell?
		(Max nods)
	 What?

			MAX
	 An audition for the part we’re
	 replacing. What’s-her-name, your
	 sister...

He adds water to the bicarb. 

			MARGO
	 Well, if she can act, she might not
	 be bad. She looks like she might
	 burn down a plantation...

			MAX
		(mixing)
	 I feel right now like there’s one
	 burning in me. 

			MARGO
	 When’s the audition?

			MAX
	 A couple of weeks. 

			MARGO
	 I tell you what. Why don’t I read
	 with her? 

			MAX
	 Would you?

			MARGO
	 Anything to help you out, Max. 

			MAX
	 This is real cooperation. I
	 appreciate it. 

			MARGO
	 Not at all. And you could do me a
	 big favor, if you would-

			MAX
	 All you got to do is name it. 

			MARGO
	 Give Eve Harrington job in you
	 office.

Max burps. 

			MARGO
	 You get quick action, don’t you?

			MAX
	 Margo, I wouldn’t think of taking
	 that girl away from you...

			MARGO
	 You said yourself my inventory was
	 in good shape - all of my
	 merchandise put away. To keep her
	 here with nothing to do - I’d be
	 standing in her way... and you need
	 her, Max. 

			MAX
	 But what could she do?

			MARGO
	 She’d be a great help - read
	 scripts, interview people you have
	 to see, get rid of the ones you
	 don’t have to... you’d be a man of
	 leisure-

			MAX
	 Well...

			MARGO 
	 Think of your health, Max - more
	 time to relax out in the fresh air
	 at a race track...

			MAX
	 I don’t know if this would be a
	 wise move...

			MARGO
	 Promise. 

			MAX
	 I promise. 

			MARGO
		(happily)
	 That’s my Max. 

Lloyd enters, looking for her. 

			LLOYD
	 There you are, both of you. Max,
	 Karen has decided it’s time to go.

			MARGO
	 Where is she?

			LLOYD
	 Up in the room. 

			MAX
	 If you’ll excuse me-
		(to Margo)
	 I’ll tell Miss Caswell...

He goes out. A pause. 

			MARGO
	 Who’s left out there?

			LLOYD
	 Too many. And you’ve got a new
	 guest. A movie star from Hollywood. 

			MARGO
	 Shucks. And my autograph book is at
	 the cleaners.

Another pause. 

			MARGO
	 You disapprove of me when I’m like
	 this, don’t you?

			LLOYD
	 Not exactly. Sometimes, though, I
	 wish I understood you better.

			MARGO
	 When you do, let me in on it. 

			LLOYD
	 I will. 

Another pause. 

			MARGO
	 How’s the new one coming?

			LLOYD
	 The play? All right, I guess...

			MARGO
	 "Cora." She’s - still a girl of
	 twenty?

			LLOYD
	 Twentyish. It isn’t important. 

			MARGO
	 Don’t you think it’s about time it
	 became important?

			LLOYD
	 How do you mean? 

			MARGO
	 Don’t be evasive. 

			LLOYD
	 Margo, you haven’t got any age. 

			MARGO
	 Miss Channing is ageless. Spoken
	 like a press agent.

			LLOYD
	 I know what I’m talking about,
	 after all they’re my plays...

			MARGO
	 Spoken like an author.
		(abruptly)
	 Lloyd, I’m not twentyish. I am not
	 thirtyish. Three months ago, I was
	 forty years old. Forty. Four oh.
		(smiles)
	 That slipped out, I hadn’t quite
	 made up my mind to admit it. Now I
	 feel as if I’d suddenly taken all
	 my clothes off...

			LLOYD
	 Week after week, to thousands of
	 people, you’re as young as you
	 want...

			MARGO
	 ... as young as they want, you
	 mean. And I’m not interested in
	 whether thousands of people think
	 I’m six or six hundred-

			LLOYD
	 Just one person. Isn’t that so?
		(Margo doesn’t answer)
	 You know what this is all about,
	 don’t you? It has very little to do
	 with whether you should play "Cora"
	 - it has everything to do with the
	 fact that you’ve had another fight
	 with Bill. 

A pause. Margo closes the box of bicarb. 

			MARGO
	 Bill’s thirty-two. He looks thirty
	 two. He looked it five years ago,
	 he’ll look it twenty years from
	 now. I hate men. 
		(she puts the box down)
	 Don’t worry, Lloyd. I’ll play your
	 play. I’ll wear rompers and come in
	 rolling a hoop if you like... let’s
	 go say good night. 

They exit into the dining room. As they open the swinging
door, the CAMERA REMAINS in the doorway. Margo and Lloyd walk
toward the stairs. In the b.g., Eve is talking to the group.
How much she says is dependent on how long it takes Margo and
Lloyd to reach her. 

			EVE
		(in the b.g.)
	 Imagine... to know, every night,
	 that different hundreds of people
	 love you... They smile, their eyes
	 shine - you’ve pleased them, they
	 want you, you belong. Anything’s
	 worth that. 

Just as before, she becomes aware of Margo’s approach with
Lloyd. She scrambles to her feet...

			MARGO
	 Don’t get up. And please stop
	 acting as if I were the queen
	 mother. 

And as Margo speaks - or before - we 

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

EXT. N.Y. THEATER STREET - DAY

Margo gets out of a cab in front of the theater and goes in.
It’s Friday afternoon - no performance. 

			MARGO’S VOICE
	 What was it the wise man said -
	 "This, too, will pass away"? Two
	 weeks later - the day of the
	 audition - all was well with Bill
	 and me, the world and me-

INT. LOBBY AND FOYER - CURRAN THEATER - DAY

Margo comes from the street through the lobby ( a few people
buying tickets) and into the deserted foyer. She spots
Addison sprawled on one of the sofas. 

			MARGO
	 Why so remote, Addison? I should
	 think you’d be at the side of your
	 protegee, lending her moral
	 support...

			ADDISON
	 Miss Caswell, at the moment, is
	 where I can lend no support - moral
	 or otherwise.

			MARGO
	 The ladies’ - shall we say -
	 lounge?

			ADDISON
	 Being violently ill to her tummy. 

			MARGO
	 It’s good luck before an audition.
	 She’ll be all right once it starts.

She heads for the auditorium.

			ADDISON
	 Miss Caswell got lucky too late.
	 The audition is over. 

			MARGO
		(stops)
	 Over? It can’t be. I’ve come to
	 read with her. I promised Max. 

			ADDISON
	 The audition was called for 2:30.
	 It is now nearly four. 

			MARGO
		(lightly)
	 Is it really? I must start wearing
	 a watch, I never do, you know...
	 who read with Miss Caswell? Bill?
		(he shakes his head)
	 Lloyd?
		(he shakes his head)
	 Well, it couldn’t have been Max!
	 Who?

			ADDISON
	 Naturally enough, your understudy. 

			MARGO
	 I consider it highly unnatural to
	 allow a girl in an advanced state
	 of pregnancy-

			ADDISON
	 I refer to your new and unpregnant
	 understudy. Eve Harrington. 

			MARGO
	 Eve! My understudy...

			ADDISON
		(keenly)
	 Didn’t you know?

			MARGO
		(quickly)
	 Of course I knew. 

			ADDISON
	 It just slipped your mind. 

A moment of silence. 

			MARGO
	 How... how was Miss Caswell?

			ADDISON
	 Frankly, I don’t remember.

			MARGO
	 Just slipped your mind. 

			ADDISON
	 Completely. Nor, I am sure, could
	 anyone else present tell you how
	 Miss Caswell read or whether Miss
	 Caswell read or rode a pogo stick.

			MARGO
	 Was she that bad?

As Addison speaks, he rises with excitement.

			ADDISON
	 Margo, as you know, i have lived in
	 the Theater as a Trappist monk
	 lives in his faith. I have no other
	 world, no other life - and once in
	 a great while I experience that
	 moment of Revelation for which all
	 true believers wait and pray. You
	 were one. Jeanne Eagels another...
	 Paula Wessely... Hayes - there are
	 others, three or four. Eve
	 Harrington will be among them...

			MARGO
		(flatly)
	 I take it she read well.

			ADDISON
	 It wasn’t reading, it was a
	 performance. Brilliant, vivid,
	 something made of music and fire...

			MARGO
	 How nice. 

			ADDISON
	 In time she’ll be what you are. 

			MARGO
	 A mass of music and fire. That’s
	 me. An old kazoo and some sparkles.
	 Tell me - was Bill swept away, too,
	 or were you too full of Revelation
	 to notice?

			ADDISON
	 Bill didn’t say - but Lloyd was
	 beside himself. He listened to his
	 play as if someone else had written
	 it, he said, it sounded so fresh,
	 so new, so full of meaning...

			MARGO
	 How nice for Lloyd. And how nice
	 for Eve. How nice for everybody.

Addison, of course, knows exactly what she’s doing. He senses
the approaching typhoon, he whips it up...

			ADDISON
	 Eve was incredibly modest. She
	 insisted that no credit was due
	 her, that Lloyd felt as he did only
	 because she read lines exactly as
	 he had written them. 

			MARGO
	 The implication being that I have
	 not been reading them as written.

			ADDISON
	 To the best of my recollection,
	 neither your name nor your
	 performance entered the
	 conversation. 

Miss Caswell appears, uncertain, in the b.g.

			ADDISON 
	 Feeling better, my dear?

			MISS CASWELL
	 Like I just swam the English
	 Channel. Now what?

			ADDISON
	 You next move, it seems to me,
	 should be toward television. 

Margo, abruptly, starts for the auditorium. Addison smiles.
He takes Miss Caswell’s arm. 

			MISS CASWELL
	 Tell me this. Do they have
	 auditions for television?

			ADDISON
	 That’s all television is, my dear.
	 Nothing but auditions. 

He takes her toward the street. 

INT. THEATER - CURRAN THEATER - DAY

The curtain is up; the set, covered, is a bedroom in a
deteriorating Southern mansion. 

There is no one in the theater but Max, seated on the aisle
about two-thirds down, and Eve with Lloyd and Bill on the
stage. She is seated; they stand between her and auditorium.
There is some ad lib talk among the three which we cannot
make out. Margo marches down the aisle with a steady pace. 

She passes Max smiles a sickly, hopeful smile. She ignores
him as if he were a used paper cup. She disappears through
the door which leads backstage. 

Max whistles. Lloyd turns. Max indicated the door and puts
his hands to his head in despair. 

Margo walks out of the wings on stage. Bill and Lloyd turn to
her. Eve rises. 

			MARGO
		(cheerily)
	 Terribly sorry I’m late, lunch was
	 long and I couldn’t find a cab -
	 where’s Miss Caswell, shall we
	 start? Oh, hello, Eve...

			EVE
	 Hello, Miss Channing. 

			MARGO
	 How are you making out in Mr.
	 Fabian’s office?
		(over the footlights to
		 Max)
	 I don’t want you working the child
	 too hard, Max - just because you
	 promised. As you see, I kept my
	 promise, too...

Max slumps in his seat. By the time Margo turns back to them,
the others have exchanged swift looks. 

			BILL 
	 It’s all over. 

			MARGO
	 What’s all over?

			BILL 
	 The audition. 

			MARGO
		(pleased astonishment)
	 Eve?
		(she turns to her)
	 How enchanting...
		(to Lloyd and Bill)
	 Wherever did you get the idea of
	 having Eve read with Miss Caswell?

			LLOYD
	 She’s your understudy.

			MARGO
	 Eve? Eve, my understudy? But I had
	 no idea...

			LLOYD
	 I thought you knew... She was put
	 on over a week ago-

			MARGO
	 It seems almost inconceivable that
	 I haven’t seen her backstage, but
	 with so many people loitering
	 around... well, well. So Eve is not
	 working for Max after all-
		(out to Max again)
	 - Max you sly puss.

Max submerges further in his seat. 

			EVE
	 Miss Channing, I can’t tell you how
	 glad I am that you arrived so late.

			MARGO
	 Really, Eve? Why?

			EVE
	 Well, if you’d been here to begin
	 with, I wouldn’t have dared to read
	 at all...

			MARGO
	 Why not?

			EVE
	 ... and if you’d come in the
	 middle, I’d have stopped, I
	 couldn’t have gone on-

			MARGO
		(murmurs)
	 What a pity, all that fire and
	 music being turned off...

			BILL 
	 What fire and music?

			MARGO
	 You wouldn’t understand. 
		(to Lloyd)
	 How was Miss Caswell?

			LLOYD
	 Back to Copacabana. But Eve. Margo,
	 let me tell you about Eve-

			EVE
		(breaking in)
	 I was dreadful, Miss Channing,
	 believe me - I have no right to be
	 anyone’s understudy, much less
	 yours...

			MARGO
	 I’m sure you underestimate
	 yourself, Eve. You always do.
		(to Lloyd)
	 You were about to tell me about
	 Eve...

			LLOYD
	 You’d have been proud of her.

			MARGO
	 I’m sure. 

			LLOYD
	 She was a revelation...

			MARGO
	 To you, too?

			LLOYD
	 What do you mean?

			MARGO
		(the ice begins to form)
	 I mean, among other things, that it
	 must have been a revelation to have
	 your twenty-four-year-old character
	 played by twenty-four-year-old
	 actress...

			LLOYD
	 That’s beside the point. 

			MARGO
	 It’s right to the point. Also that
	 it must have sounded so new and
	 fresh to you - so exciting to have
	 the lines read as you wrote them!

			BILL 
	 Addison-!

			MARGO
	 So full of meaning, fire and music!

			LLOYD
	 You’ve been talking to that
	 venomous fishwife, Addison deWitt-

			MARGO
	 - in this case, apparently, as
	 trustworthy as the World Almanac!

			LLOYD
	 You knew when you came in that the
	 audition was over, that Eve was
	 your understudy! Playing that
	 childish game of cat and mouse...

			MARGO
	 Not mouse, never mouse! If anything
	 - rat!

			LLOYD
	 You have a genius for making
	 barroom brawl out of a perfectly
	 innocent misunderstanding at most! 

			MARGO
	 Perfectly innocent! Man have been
	 hanged for less! I’m lied to,
	 attacked behind my back, accused of
	 reading your silly dialogue
	 inaccurately - as if it were Holy
	 Gospel!

			LLOYD
	 I never said it was!

			MARGO
	 Then you listened as if someone
	 else had written you play - whom
	 did you have in mind? Sherwood?
	 Arthur Miller? Beaumont and
	 Fletcher? 

Max has edged his way to the stage. 

			MAX
		(from below)
	 May I say a word?

			LLOYD
	 No!
		(to Margo)
	 What makes you think that either
	 Miller or Sherwood would stand for
	 the nonsense I take from you -
	 you’d better stick to Beaumont and
	 Fletcher! They’ve been dead for
	 three hundred years! 

He stalks into the wings. Bill’s reaction to the fight is
typical. He lights a cigarette, stretches out on the covered
bed. Eve stands frozen with fear. Margo yells after Lloyd
into the wings. 

			MARGO
	 And they’re getting better
	 performances today than they ever
	 got! All playwrights should be dead
	 for thr