GARCIN (enters, accompanied by the VALET, and glances around him): So here we
are?
VALET: Yes, Mr. GARCIN.
GARCIN: And this is what it looks like?
VALET: Yes.
GARCIN: Second Empire furniture, I observe... Well, well, I dare say one gets used to it
in time. I'd also get used to seeing you. (checks out VALET, his eyes scan up and down the VALET's body. VALET notices, but doesn't seem to mind.)
VALET: (smiling) Some do, some don't.
GARCIN: Are all the rooms like this one? Or do we have to share you?
VALET: How could they be? We cater for all sorts: kinky and virgin, for instance.
What use would they have for a Second Empire chair? What use would virgins have for me?
GARCIN: And what use do you suppose I have for one? Or you? Do you know who I was?. ..Oh,
well, it's no great matter. And, to tell the truth, I had quite a habit of living among
furniture that I didn't relish, and in false positions with people I didn't relish. I'd even come to like them. Even virgins have their uses of interesting company, however unlikely. Bogus in bogus, so to speak.
VALET: And you'll find that living in a Second Empire drawing-room has its points.
GARCIN: Really?. ..Yes, yes, I dare say. ..Still I certainly didn't expect— this! You know
what they tell us down there?
VALET: What about?
GARCIN: About.. .this- residence.
VALET: Really, sir, how could you believe such cock-and-bull stories? Told by people
who'd never set foot here. For, of course, if they had—
GARCIN: Quite so. But I say, where are the instruments of torture?
VALET: The what?
GARCIN: The racks and red-hot pincers and all the other paraphernalia? Whips and vibrators and nipple clamps?
VALET: Ah, you must have your little joke, sir. Of course, if you would like...
GARCIN: My little joke? Oh, I see. No, I wasn't joking.
VALET: That's good! So you haven't yet got over your— what-do-you-call-it?— sense of
human dignity? Excuse my smiling.
GARCIN: I'll ask you to be more polite. I quite realize the position I'm in, but I won't
tolerate...
VALET: Sorry, sir. No offense meant. But all our guests ask me the same questions.
Silly questions, if you'll pardon my saying so. Where's the torture-chamber? That's the
first thing they ask, all of them. But after a bit, when they've got their nerve back, they
start in about their dildos and what-not. Good heavens, Mr. GARCIN, can't you use
your brains? What, I ask you, would be the point of using a dildo?
GARCIN: Yes, of course you're right. And why should one want to see oneself in a
looking- glass? But that bronze contraption on the mantelpiece, that's another story. I
suppose there will be times when I stare my eyes out at it, that ball gag. Stare my eyes out— see what I mean?... All right, let's put our cards on the table. I assure you I'm quite conscious of my
position. Shall I tell you what it feels like? A man's drowning, choking, sinking by
inches, till only his eyes are just above water. And what does he see? A rubber atrocity, a collector's piece. Don't forget, my man, I've a good notion of what's coming to me, so
don't you boast you've caught me off my guard. I'm facing the situation, facing it. So
that's that; no dildo. And no bed, either. One never sleeps, I take it?
VALET: That's so. (the VALET winks at GARCIN and rubs his hand on his thigh absentmindedly.)
GARCIN: Just as I expected. HOW could one sleep?
VALET: Romantic, that's what you are.
GARCIN: I won't make a scene, I shan't be sorry for myself, I'll face the situation, as I said just now. Face it fairly and squarely. I won't have it springing at me from behind, before I've time to size it up. I want to be ready for whatever… happens here. And you call that being "romantic!" So it comes to this; one doesn't need rest. Why bother about sleep if one is enjoying themselves so completely? That stands to reason, doesn't it? Wait a minute, there's a snag somewhere;
something disagreeable. Why, now, should it be disagreeable? ...Ah, I see; it's life without a break. Constantly pleasing someone. You, if you'd like.
VALET: (flirtatiously) What are you talking about?
GARCIN: Your eyelids. We move ours up and down. Blinking, we call it. It's like a small
black shutter that clicks down and makes a break. Everything goes black; one's eyes are
moistened. You can't imagine how restful, refreshing, it is. To be moist. Four thousand little rests per hour. Four thousand little respites— just think!. ..So that's the idea. I'm to live without that moist, dark haven. Don't act the fool, you know what I mean. No eyelids, refreshing moisture; it follows, doesn't it? I shall never rest again. But then— how shall I endure my own company? Try
to understand. You see, I'm fond of teasing, it's a second nature with me— and I'm used to
teasing myself. Plaguing myself, if you prefer; I don't tease nicely (he winks). But I can't go on doing that without a break. Down there I had my nights. I slept. I always had good nights. By
way of compensation, I suppose. And happy little dreams. Dreams with night time virgins and those of… stranger tastes. I used to live for it.. .Is it daytime now?
VALET: Can't you see? The lights are on.
GARCIN: Ah, yes, I've got it. It's your daytime. And outside?
VALET: Outside?
GARCIN: Damn it, you know what I mean. Beyond that wall.
VALET: There's a passage.
GARCIN: And at the end of the passage?
VALET: There's more rooms, more passages, more people, and stairs.
GARCIN: And what lies beyond them?
VALET: That's all.
GARCIN: But surely you have a day off sometimes. Where do you go?
VALET: To my uncle's place. He's the head valet here. He has a room on the third floor. I share it with him… often.
GARCIN: I should have guessed as much. Where's the light-switch?
VALET: There isn't any.
GARCIN: What? Can't one turn off the light?
VALET: Oh, the management can cut off the current if they want to. But I can't
remember their having done so on this floor. We have all the electricity we want. I like to use it on naughty little boys like you.
GARCIN: So one has to live under this light all the time?
VALET: To live, did you say?
GARCIN: Don't let's quibble over words. To live here, judged by this light. Forever. Always broad
daylight in my eyes— and in my head. And suppose I took that contraption on the
mantelpiece and dropped it on the lamp— wouldn't it go out?
VALET: You can't move it. It's too heavy.
GARCIN: You're right. It's too heavy.
VALET: Very well, sir, if you don't need me any more, I'll be off.
GARCIN: What? You're going? Wait. That's a bell, isn't it? And if I ring, you're bound to
come? To get me off, perhaps?
VALET: Well, yes, that's so— in a way. But you can never be sure about that bell. There's
something wrong with the wiring, and it doesn't always work. I suppose that's true for all us miscreants down here. Well, I really must go now. Yes, sir?
GARCIN: Very well. You can go.
(GARCIN is by himself. He goes to the bronze ornament and strokes it reflectively. He sits down; then gets up, goes to the bell-push, and presses the button. He wanted the VALET to come back, to give him something to do. The bell remains silent. How frustrating! He tries two or three times, without success. Then he tries to open the door, also without success. He calls the VALET several times, but gets no result. He beats the door with his fists, still calling. All he wants is to be with a man! This place may be purgatory, but that doesn't mean GARCIN can't have some sexy fun, right? Suddenly he grows calm and sits down again. Why not have a good time by himself? GARCIN undoes his belt and reaches into his pants. His fingers were cold, and his sensitive cock shivered a little. GARCIN pulled his penis out into the open air. He was alone. He stroked his cock, encouraging the blood to flow into his meat stick. Looking like an intensely angry worm, or perhaps a hungry mushroom, his penis was hard and ready for GARCIN's lustful attack. At the same moment the door opens and INEZ enters, followed by the VALET)