Parfumerie (1st ed. - 08.12.

09) - parfumerieIjp
Copyright © 2009 E.P. Dowdall
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Copyright Protection. This play (the “Play”) is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United
States of America and all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations,
whether through bilateral or multilateral treaties or otherwise, and including, but not limited to, all coun-
tries covered by the Pan-American Copyright Convention, the Universal Copyright Convention, and the
Berne Convention.
Reservation of Rights. All rights to this Play are strictly reserved, including, without limitation, profes-
sional and amateur stage performance rights; motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio
broadcasting, television, video, and sound recording rights; rights to all other forms of mechanical or
electronic reproduction now known or yet to be invented, such as CD-ROM, CD-I, DVD, photocopying,
and information storage and retrieval systems; and the rights of translation into non-English languages.
Performance Licensing and Royalty Payments. Amateur and stock performance rights to this Play
are controlled exclusively by Playscripts, Inc. (“Playscripts”). No amateur or stock production groups
or individuals may perform this Play without obtaining advance written permission from Playscripts.
Required royalty fees for performing this Play are specified online at the Playscripts website (www.play-
scripts.com). Such royalty fees may be subject to change without notice. Although this book may have
been obtained for a particular licensed performance, such performance rights, if any, are not transferable.
Required royalties must be paid every time the Play is performed before any audience, whether or not
it is presented for profit and whether or not admission is charged. All licensing requests and inquiries
concerning amateur and stock performance rights should be addressed to Playscripts (see contact infor-
mation on opposite page).

Inquiries concerning all other rights should be addressed to the author’s agent: The Marton Agency, Inc.,
1 Union Square West, Suite 815, New York, New York 10003 (email: [email protected]).
Restriction of Alterations. There shall be no deletions, alterations, or changes of any kind made to the
Play, including the changing of character gender, the cutting of dialogue, the cutting of music, or the
alteration of objectionable language, unless directly authorized by Playscripts. The title of the Play shall
not be altered.
Author Credit. Any individual or group receiving permission to produce this Play is required to give
credit to the author as the sole and exclusive author of the Play. This obligation applies to the title page
of every program distributed in connection with performances of the Play, and in any instance that the
title of the Play appears for purposes of advertising, publicizing, or otherwise exploiting the Play and/
or a production thereof. The name of the author must appear on a separate line, in which no other name
appears, immediately beneath the title and of a font size at least 50% as large as the largest letter used
in the title of the Play. No person, firm, or entity may receive credit larger or more prominent than that
accorded the author. The name of the author may not be abbreviated or otherwise altered from the form
in which it appears in this Play.
Publisher Attribution. All programs, advertisements, and other printed material distributed or pub-
lished in connection with the amateur or stock production of the Play shall include the following notice:
Produced by special arrangement with Playscripts, Inc.
(www.playscripts.com)
Prohibition of Unauthorized Copying. Any unauthorized copying of this book or excerpts from this
book is strictly forbidden by law. Except as otherwise permitted by applicable law, no part of this book
may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means now known
or yet to be invented, including, without limitation, photocopying or scanning, without prior permission
from Playscripts.
Statement of Non-affiliation. This Play may include references to brand names and trademarks owned
by third parties, and may include references to public figures. Playscripts is not necessarily affiliated
with these public figures, or with the owners of such trademarks and brand names. Such references are
included solely for parody, political comment, or other permitted purposes.
Permissions for Sound Recordings and Musical Works. This Play may contain directions calling for
the performance of a portion, or all, of a musical work not included in the Play’s score, or performance
of a sound recording of such a musical work. Playscripts has not obtained permissions to perform such
works. The producer of this Play is advised to obtain such permissions, if required in the context of the
production. The producer is directed to the websites of the U.S. Copyright Office (www.copyright.gov),
ASCAP (www.ascap.com), BMI (www.bmi.com), and NMPA (www.nmpa.org) for further information
on the need to obtain permissions, and on procedures for obtaining such permissions.
 The Rules in Brief
1) Do NOT perform this Play without obtaining prior permission
from Playscripts, and without paying the required royalty.
2) Do NOT photocopy, scan, or otherwise duplicate any part of
this book.
3) Do NOT alter the text of the Play, change a character’s gender,
delete any dialogue, cut any music, or alter any objectionable
language, unless explicitly authorized by Playscripts.
4) DO provide the required credit to the author(s) and the required
attribution to Playscripts in all programs and promotional lit-
erature associated with any performance of this Play.
For more details on these and other rules, see the opposite page.

Copyright Basics
This Play is protected by United States and international copyright
law. These laws ensure that authors are rewarded for creating new and
vital dramatic work, and protect them against theft and abuse of their
work.

A play is a piece of property, fully owned by the author, just like a

house or car. You must obtain permission to use this property, and
must pay a royalty fee for the privilege—whether or not you charge an
admission fee. Playscripts collects these required payments on behalf
of the author.

Anyone who violates an author’s copyright is liable as a copyright

infringer under United States and international law. Playscripts and
the author are entitled to institute legal action for any such infringe-
ment, which can subject the infringer to actual damages, statutory
damages, and attorneys’ fees. A court may impose statutory damages
of up to $150,000 for willful copyright infringements. U.S. copyright
law also provides for possible criminal sanctions. Visit the website of
the U.S. Copyright Office (www.copyright.gov) for more information.

THE BOTTOM LINE: If you break copyright law, you are robbing a
playwright and opening yourself to expensive legal action. Follow the
rules, and when in doubt, ask us.

Playscripts, Inc. toll-free phone: 1-866-NEW-PLAY

450 Seventh Ave, Suite 809 email: [email protected]
New York, NY 10123 website: www.playscripts.com
Cast of Characters

MR. MIKLOS HAMMERSCHMIDT, owner of the Parfumerie

MR. GEORGE HORVATH, senior clerk

MR. SIPOS, senior clerk

MR. STEVEN KADAR, clerk

MISS AMALIA BALASH, clerk

MISS ILONA RITTER, clerk

MISS ELIZABETH MOLNAR, cashier

ARPAD NOVACK, delivery boy / clerk

FRITZ, delivery boy

A POLICEMAN

A DETECTIVE

A YOUNG WOMAN

AN OLD GENTLEMAN

VARIOUS CUSTOMERS

Time

December, 1937.

Place

Budapest, Hungary. All three acts happen in Hammerschmidt’s Par-

fumerie on Vaci street.

ACT I A Saturday evening, two weeks before Christmas.

ACT II The morning of the following Monday.
ACT III Scene 1—Early morning, December 24th.
Scene 2—Christmas eve.

4
Setting

The scene throughout the play is the interior of Hammerschmidt’s

Parfumerie; Hammerschmidt’s is an old established firm of high re-
pute, founded by the present owner’s grandfather. It is a pleasing
old shop, comfortable, hospitable, and with an air of eternity about
it. The furniture, apart from the very latest circa 1938 cash register,
is old-fashioned, and so is the running of the business; namely, open
and honest. The firm employs seven people—three salesman, two
salesgirls, a cashier and an errand boy. Shelves full of bottles of per-
fume, soap, bath salts, lotions, and every conceivable kind of similar
goods run along the back wall from below the counter to the ceiling.
The shop is full of color and scent.

In front of the shelves, parallel to the footlights, stands a wide coun-

ter. In front of that are two or three comfortable seats. The en­trance
from the street is in the left wall, at center, between two large shop
windows. Between the upstage window and the counter is the cash
desk, with a stool in back of it. At the station are a telephone, the cash
register and a small lamp. In the right wall there are two doors. The
downstage one has a frosted glass panel and leads to the office. The
other door leads into a corridor, off which the lab/workroom, the
store-room, etc., open offstage. Between the two doors in the right
wall, about half way up the wall is a large electri­cal switch-panel
with a dozen old fashioned light switches. Above this is an old wall
clock. In the corner, up right, a narrow flight of stairs leads to a bal-
cony which runs clear across the back of the shop.

Acknowledgments

All production groups performing this play are required to include

the following credits on the title page of every program:

Parfumerie
A Comedy in Three Acts
by
Miklos Laszlo

Adapted by E.P. Dowdall

From the English translation by Florence Laszlo
of the Hungarian play Illatszertar

5
 Parfumerie
adapted by E.P. Dowdall
From Florence Laszlo’s English translation
of the Hungarian play “Illatszertar” by Miklos Laszlo

ACT I

(At rise of curtain: It is December, two weeks before Christmas

Eve, a Saturday evening, a few minutes before shop closing time.
The three salesmen, MR. HORVARTH, MR. SIPOS, MR. KA-
DAR, as well as MISS RITTER and MR. HAMMERSCHMIDT
himself, are attending to the CUSTOMERS, mostly ladies. The
cashier, MISS MOLNAR, sits at the cash desk. There is the usual
increased activity just before closing time. The cash register hardly
ever stops clattering. Outside, in the illuminated thoroughfare, the
snow is falling in thick flakes.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (The owner of the firm, a gentleman in his six­

ties. In his white lab coat, which he wears while waiting on CUSTOM­ERS,
and with his thick silvery hair, he seems more like a surgeon than a shop
owner. He is attending to a woman customer.) Will there be anything
else, madam?

1ST LADY. What is it I wanted?… Oh yes, do you have Coty

L’Amour?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Perfume?

1ST LADY. No, powder.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Certainly, madam. What shade?

1ST LADY. Rachel.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Mr. Horvath, Coty L’Amour, Rachel please.

HORVATH. (A handsome young man of about twenty-eight, always tidy

and well dressed. Like the rest of the staff he too is wearing a white coat. He
is attending to another woman customer.) Yes sir, small or large?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. A small or large box, madam?

1ST LADY. How much is the small one?

7
8 E.P. Dowdall

HORVATH. Six-eighty, madam.

1ST LADY. And the large one?

HORVATH. Fourteen-twenty.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. May I recommend the large one, madam. It’s

almost twice the amount at quite a savings.

HORVATH. You’ll fare much better with the large one, ma’am…

2ND LADY. Young man, I’m in rather a hurry.

HORVATH. I’m sorry madam. Will there be anything else?

2ND LADY. Show me some toothbrushes.

HORVATH. Which do you prefer, hard, medium or soft?

1ST LADY. (Who has been thinking until now:) I think I’ll take the
small one.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Right away, madam. Mr. Horvath, will you

give me a small Coty L’Amour, Rachel, please…

HORVATH. Yes, sir. Mr. Kadar, will you help this lady, please. (To
CUSTOMER:) Excuse me for a moment, madam…

(Runs upstairs to the balcony.)

KADAR. (The slick “man about town,” an “operator,” and a very effec­
tive salesman. He is always elegantly outfitted, with gold wristwatch, silk
shirts and fine imported suits. Yet the source of his elegance are a constant
puzzle. Certainly his salary is not equal to his apparent lifestyle. Though al­
ways over-dressed for a shop clerk, he is nevertheless stylish. His ambi­tions
exceed his position and this is reflected in his choice of clothing. For now
though, he too wears a white coat.) Of course, just one moment, please…
(Handing package and bill to 3RD LADY customer:) Your total madam,
please pay the cashier.

(3RD LADY crosses to cash desk.)

MISS MOLNAR. (Making change for a customer:) Six-seventy-five.

Thank you very much…
 Parfumerie 9

(The shop is humming with activity. HORVATH runs across the

balcony.)

KADAR. (To 2ND LADY:) Now how may I help you, madam?

2ND LADY. I’ve been waiting to see some toothbrushes for half an
hour.

KADAR. Oh that is inexcusable madam. And to have left someone

as lovely as yourself without the attention I know you deserve. Well
let it be my good fortune to take care of you now. What sort of tooth-
brush were you considering?

HORVATH. (From the balcony:) I’m sorry ma’am, we’ve only got the
large size left of the Coty L’Amour Rachel…

1ST LADY. Never mind then…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Tomorrow is Sunday madam, but I can get it

for you on Monday, if you like.

MISS RITTER. (An attractive young woman, a bit too glamorous for a
salesgirl, handing a parcel and a bill to a young man:) There you are sir…
and your bill…please pay the cashier.

3RD LADY. (Has paid her bill and makes for door:) Goodnight.

CHORUS. (And now the employees together in chorus:)

Hammer­schmidt’s thanks you
We hope to see you soon

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Goodnight, madam.

HORVATH. (From the balcony:) We have that size in Royal Dandy,

madam, in the same shade at the same price…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Perhaps you would like to try it?

HORVATH. I wouldn’t recommend it if I wasn’t sure…

1ST LADY. Alright, let me see it.

HORVATH. I’ll bring it right down.

(Rushes downstairs.)
10 E.P. Dowdall

KADAR. (Showing face brushes:) Perhaps this one?

2ND LADY. How much is it?

KADAR. Two-forty-five.

2ND LADY. I’ll take it.

KADAR. Anything else, madam?

2ND LADY. No, just that, thank you.

HORVATH. (Has come downstairs meanwhile and hands the powder to

HAMMERSCHMIDT:) Here you are, sir. (Turns to KADAR:) Thank
you, Mr. Kadar. (To the customer:) We have an excellent new eau de
toilette, madam, it’s our own. Would you like to sample it?

(Takes a bottle from the shelf behind his.)

HORVATH. May I spray a little?

2ND LADY. (Acquiescing:) If you’d like…

HORVATH. (Squeezes atomizer.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (He has wrapped the customer’s purchase and

now hands it to her with the bill.) That’ll be twenty-seven-eighty alto-
gether. Thank you very much, madam.

1ST LADY. Good night, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good night, madam.

(1ST LADY goes to cashier.)

HORVATH. How do you like it?

2ND LADY. It’s very nice. What is it?

HORVATH. Heliotrope.

2ND LADY. Your own you say?

HORVATH. Original Hammerschmidt.

2ND LADY. It’s a little heavy, isn’t it?

 Parfumerie 11

HORVATH. (Sniffs.) No, no. I think it’s lovely on you. In fact it is

one of the most discreet scents we carry.

2ND LADY. Alright, I’ll try it. Give me the smallest bottle you have.

1ST LADY. (Pays cashier and exits.) Good night.

CHORUS. Hammerschmidt’s thanks you

We hope to see you soon

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good night, madam.

HORVATH. Anything else? Soap, shampoo, bath oil, bath salts, cold
cream, hand lotion, nail polish?

2ND LADY. No, that’ll be all, thank you.

HORVATH. (Writing up the bill:) So then…we have one Chanel, one

rouge, one compact and one Heliotrope. That’ll be two, nine, eleven,
fourteen, twenty-three in all…

2ND LADY. (Looking at bill:) My goodness, Chanel used to be…

HORVATH. Ah yes I know, used to be, madam. Government lux­

ury tax I’m afraid…

2ND LADY. It’s quite a lot…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Joining in, but sympathetically:) Yes of course

you’re right madam, like the high price of everything else these days.
And on top of it this crazy government refuses to treat per­fume as a
vital necessity, which of course we all know it is. Luxury tax, bah.

HORVATH. It is a bit of a luxury you must admit. …Though well

worth the price

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Glares at HORVATH.)

HORVATH. (Handing her the parcel and bill.) Please pay the cashier.
And thank you madam for your understanding.

(A POLICEMAN enters.)

POLICEMAN. Good evening.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good evening, officer.

12 E.P. Dowdall

POLICEMAN. It’s twenty-five minutes past, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Sorry, officer, we’re closing now… Horvath,

why isn’t the sign on the door?

HORVATH. I’m sorry, sir, I haven’t had the time because of the rush.

POLICEMAN. Well, you better lock up now. There’s a curfew, you

know.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes, we know. Thank you officer.

(POLICEMAN exits.)

Is there some reason you couldn’t take care of this simple matter?

HORVATH. I’m sorry sir, you may have noticed we had quite a bit
of a rush just now…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Interrupting:) Every night the same thing.

Do I have to remind you every single blessed evening to put the sign
on the door at 8 pm?

HORVATH. Mr. Hammerschmidt, we were all quite occupied; I’d

think you’d be happy that we had so many customers in the shop.

2ND LADY. (Having paid her bill:) Good night.

(Exits.)

CHORUS. Hammerschmidt’s thanks you

We hope to see you soon

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good night, madam.

(Now that the last customer has left, the atmosphere in the shop
becomes highly charged. HAMMERSCHMIDT who has up till
now been politely cold, turns quite venomous.)

How many times have I told you, Mr. Horvath, not to contradict me
in front of my customers?

HORVATH. Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I don’t care whether you mean to or not. I

don’t ever want you to contradict me in front of my customers again.
 Parfumerie 13

Do you understand? The fact that you’ve been here longer than any-
one else does not entitle you to take liberties with me.

HORVATH. (Quietly:) You’re not being quite fair, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What do you mean, I’m not fair? Are you so

above reproach? Is everything you do so perfect that I dare not sug­
gest anything else? Well let me tell you sir, you are NOT perfect and
I’ll be the judge of what’s “fair.” By the way, Mr. Horvath, if it is so
difficult in your busy schedule to hang a sign up on a door, please be
so kind as to ask Mr. Kadar or Mr. Sipos or Miss Ritter to do it. (He
looks angrily towards the door:) And guess what? It’s still not up, it’s
still…not…up!

(HORVATH takes the “Closed” sign off the hook on the side of the
cashiers’ desk and hangs it on the street door.)

(Pause.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Do any of you actually care what happens in

this shop? You know, I must be making a fortune here if I can af­ford
to keep all of you on and not expect any of you to do the sim­plest
bit of work.

(There is a short pause following this outburst. They all stand in

baf­fled silence.)

HORVATH. (Can’t accept the outburst:) I would like to know the rea-
son for your sudden change in attitude toward us, Mr. Hammer­
schmidt.

SIPOS. (He’s the oldest employee, about fifty-four. His well worn suit tells
of the large family he has to support. He is nicely spoken, always calm and
civil to everyone. He wears glasses. Nudges HORVATH with his elbow
and in a whisper…) George, keep quiet…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Sudden? What makes you think it’s so sud­

den? Perhaps it’s not so sudden at all. I’ve just finally had enough.

HORVATH. (Looking at him:) I would only like to know, sir, if you

could tell me perhaps what I am doing that is upsetting you so.

SIPOS. (Nudges him again.) Shut up…

HORVATH. (He pushes SIPOS off.) I will not. This has been going on
14 E.P. Dowdall

for days now. And with no reason.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Are you so sure that I have no reason?

HORVATH. I’m positive, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Looks at him for a while and then…) Alright,

let me explain it. First off, I do not want to be told that there is such a
rush that you can’t do what is expected of you. What rush? The stray
customer every hour or so who buys a bar of soap or a bottle of co-
logne, is that what you call a rush? Or perhaps it’s a rush when you
stand around telling each other little jokes all week and talk about
what movies are playing and have deep political discussions? Is that
why I employ seven people? Is that how I’m supposed to pay the
rent, taxes, light, gas, wages, insurance and everything else?

And then, if once a year, before Christmas, there happen to be a half

dozen customers in the shop at the same time, you dare to call that a
rush? Such a hardship for you, I’m so sorry.

What then, Mr. Horvath, would you call the position I’m in? The fact
that I’m still standing here shouting, the fact that I haven’t locked
this door forever and thrown away the key, the fact that I haven’t
given you all your notice, as my neighbors to the right and left have
done, the fact that I’m still wracking my brain every single waking
moment of every single day trying to figure out how to keep this
damned business going… that’s what I call a rush Mr. Horvath,
that’s what I call a rush.

(Goes into his office and slams the door.)

(There is an embarrassed silence. Everyone busies themselves put­

ting away merchandise, etc.)

(A YOUNG WOMAN slips into the store even though the

“Closed” sign has been turned.)

YOUNG WOMAN. Hello, could I get some bath soap?

HORVATH. I’m sorry we’re closed. Didn’t you see the sign?

YOUNG WOMAN. Well yes, but I saw all the people in here and the
lights were on…

HORVATH. We’re closed.

 Parfumerie 15

YOUNG WOMAN. Oh, come on. I just need a bar of bath soap. I’m
Mrs. Mezei’s maid and she sent me here special to get some soap.
She doesn’t like the way she smells.

HORVATH. Well, Mrs. Mezei’s maid, she’s just going to have to

open a window then. We’re closed.

YOUNG WOMAN. That’s not fair. What am I going to tell her?

HORVATH. . Tell her to use some laundry soap and a drop of lav­
ender. (Slyly but facetiously:) You know, that’s how we make it here.

(He is pushing her back out the door.)

YOUNG WOMAN. What? Well, I’m telling Mrs. Mezei and I’m nev-
er coming to this shop again.

HORVATH. Not tonight anyway. Thank you and goodbye.

(He closes the door. She stands there dumbfounded with her face
against the door for a moment, then hurries off.)

SIPOS. That was a bit harsh don’t you think, Mr. Horvath?

HORVATH. Why can’t people read? “Closed” means closed. The

meaning is clear. I wish Mr. Hammerschmidt could be a little clearer
with his meaning.

SIPOS. I told you not to argue with him.

HORVATH. Why shouldn’t I? I don’t know what’s the matter with

him.

SIPOS. And now I suppose you think you’ve helped by aggravat­ing

him even more?

HORVATH. I didn’t make anything worse that wasn’t there al­

ready.

SIPOS. You know he’s been like this for days.

HORVATH. Alright, but why single me out for his tirade? I work
like a dog here from morning till night. I spend my whole life in this
shop, his shop, and this is what I get for it?
16 E.P. Dowdall

SIPOS. You know, he’s got troubles too. How can we know every­
thing that’s bothering him?

HORVATH. But what have I done to him? I deserve better. I’ve been
here nine years and never have we had a problem. We’ve been close
I’d like to think and now all of a sudden, he’s at me, and at me all
week…

SIPOS. Perhaps you’re exaggerating…

HORVATH. Everything that happens seems to be my fault.

SIPOS. Is that so? And what about when he yelled at me yester­day?

Why don’t you just leave him alone. How do you know what’s eat-
ing him? Maybe there’s trouble at home.

KADAR. Why would you say that?

SIPOS. (Looking at him:) I don’t know. I’m just saying that, per­haps…
How should I know? Besides it’s none of my business.

KADAR. Who’s staying to decorate the windows?

HORVATH. I certainly don’t know. (With a jerk of his hand towards

the office:) Why don’t you ask him.

(Goes upstairs to the balcony.)

SIPOS. Are you staying, Mr. Kadar?

KADAR. If I’m required.

SIPOS. How about you, Miss Ritter?

MISS RITTER. I haven’t been asked…lately.

(Shoots a look at KADAR.)

SIPOS. Mr. Hammerschmidt said he wanted the Christmas lights

put up tonight.

MISS RITTER. Sorry, I can’t help. I’ve got a date for the movies.

SIPOS. What are you going to see?

 Parfumerie 17

MISS RITTER. What difference does it make to you? You’re no

movie fan. Tell me honestly, Sipos, when was the last time you went
to the movies?

SIPOS. Hmmm…let me see. (Remembering:) Ah yes, it was an epic,

all about the crusades I think. There were armies and battles and
cities falling. That was a picture for you. And the organ player was
excellent.

MISS RITTER. Organ player?

SIPOS. Well yes, of course, it was a “classic” film, not one these
noisy new “talkies.”

MISS RITTER. Ah yes, that explains it. I probably wasn’t even born
yet.

SIPOS. I suppose that’s…possible. How old are you now Miss Rit-
ter?

MISS RITTER. Well that’s a rather indiscreet question but if you

must know, twenty-five.

MISS MOLNAR. (The cashier. Head down. Appears to be adding up the

receipts:) Well, THAT doesn’t add up.

MISS RITTER. Did you say something, Betty?

MISS MOLNAR. (Looks up.) Me? No, I’m just counting.

MISS RITTER. Oh, really.

MISS MOLNAR. (Without looking up.) Yes, I’m adding it up and try
as I may; it still comes out to at LEAST thirty.

MISS RITTER. What?

MISS MOLNAR. (Blandly:) The receipts.

(Goes on counting.)

MISS RITTER. Sipos dear, don’t look down on the pictures. Lots of
very intellectual people go to the movies.

SIPOS. I don’t look down on the pictures, my dear Miss Ritter. It’s
just that unfortunately I don’t get the chance to see many. And be­
18 E.P. Dowdall

lieve me, it’s pretty embarrassing when I go to a party and every­

body talks about a certain movie or movie star and I just have no
idea what they’re talking about.

MISS RITTER. (Laughs.) Well, I would have never guessed. Sipos

the party goer, the man about town.

SIPOS. (With a slight reprimand:) Sarcasm Miss Ritter? A little girl

such as yourself might consider being a bit less judgmental don’t
you think?

MISS RITTER. Is that in your humble opinion?

SIPOS. I do so try to be humble.

MISS RITTER. I bow to your sage advice.

SIPOS. Ah, now you’re over-rating me. I’m hardly a sage. But then
again, to you it might appear that way.

(The phone rings.)

MISS MOLNAR. (Picks up the phone.) Hammerschmidt’s…just a

moment, please. (To the clerks:) For the boss.

KADAR. (Standing nearest to the office, knocks and opens the door.) Tele-
phone, sir.

(Goes behind counter.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Comes out, goes to cashiers’ desk and picks up

phone.) Hello? …Yes, dear…you know I’m not able to go—yes, I told
you earlier today that we’re staying late to dress the windows… You
just go along without me. Are the children going with you too? …
Oh, I see. (Slightly irritated:) No, I don’t know how long we’re going
to be… I can’t predict when I’ll be home exactly… What?… Where
did it go?… I gave you cash this morning…oh alright, I’ll send some
more money over to you with the delivery boy…and what?… Yes I
can do that too… You should see Arpad in a little bit.

(Puts down the phone.)

Where’s Arpad?

KADAR. He hasn’t returned yet, sir.

 Parfumerie 19

(HORVATH has meanwhile come downstairs from the balcony

and is puttering around at the counter.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Not back yet? He only had three deliveries to

make and he’s not back yet? I’ll throw him out, that’s what I’ll do.

HORVATH. I’ll go if you like, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, not you Mr. Horvath thank you very

much. I don’t wish to inconvenience you as I know how busy you
are.

Mr. Kadar, will you be good enough to take a bottle of the Lentheric
Toujour and… Miss Molnar, give me a hundred from the drawer,
please…

MISS MOLNAR. Yes, sir.

(Handing him the money.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. And this to Mrs. Hammerschmidt.

KADAR. It would be my pleasure sir.

(He quickly takes a bottle from the shelf and starts wrapping it
up.)

(Silence.)

SIPOS. Excuse me, Mr. Hammerschmidt…who’s staying to dress

the windows?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Has been looking out the street door absent­

mindedly:) What did you say?

SIPOS. I was just wondering, sir, who you want to have stay to dress
the windows?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Oh yes… (Preoccupied:) Well…settle it among

yourselves. Whoever would like to stay should stay.

HORVATH. I think Sipos, Kadar and I can manage between us. The
girls can go.
20 E.P. Dowdall

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Eyeing him:) Did you intend to stay? I’m sur-

prised. I thought you were so exhausted from all you had to do here
today, that you’d rather go home.

HORVATH. I didn’t say, I was exhausted, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Nevertheless I want you to go, Mr. Horvath.

We’ll manage to get along without you.

(Silence—short pause.)

(KADAR has finished wrapping the parcel, turns up the collar of

his jacket and leaves the shop without comment.)

(Short pause.)

HORVATH. (In a low voice that trembles slightly:) I’d appreciate it, Mr.
Hammerschmidt, if you’d tell me what it is that is bothering you.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I told you a minute ago. Do you want to hear

it all again?

(SIPOS pinches HORVATH’s arm.)

HORVATH. Stop pinching me, Sipos. (In a trembling voice:) I slave

away in this shop, not so much as a paid clerk but as though it were
my very own Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Significantly:) Is that so? Like it was your

OWN you say? Is that what you think? Not in your wildest dreams…

HORVATH. (Unheeding:) I’m always looking for work to do to make

the business run better. If it’s slow in the shop then I work in the lab.
This morning for instance before the mid-morning rush, I filled four
hundred tubes of Mona Lisa and you sir, talk to me like I was some
sort of slacker. There’s no conceivable reason for it. At least none that
I can see.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No reason?

HORVATH. No, not the slightest. I’m sorry to be going on like this
sir… The only thing I can imagine is that some jealous individual
might be making up stories and putting false ideas about me in your
head.
 Parfumerie 21

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No one has been putting ideas in my head.

My opinions are my own. What do you think Mr. Horvath, I’m not
intelligent enough to have opinions of my own?

HORVATH. You’ve had a different opinion of me these past nine

years, Mr. Hammerschmidt. It’s only suddenly in the last several
days that there has been this inexplicable change.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Beside himself:) That’s right. That’s right, be­

cause in these last several days I’ve found out that… (Stops dead.)

HORVATH. What sir? What did you find out?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Obviously changing the direction of the conver­

sation:) That you’re getting too big for your britches around here and
that you are not doing your job properly. I will not stand for it.

HORVATH. If you have not been satisfied with my work, sir, why
haven’t you told me?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I am telling you. I keep on telling you. How

often do you have to be told?

HORVATH. (Paling:) If it’s like that sir, perhaps I should make other
arrangements.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Are you threatening me? What do you think

happens now? I beg you to stay? You know what Mr. Horvath, ear­
lier I said you could go. Why don’t we make that a permanent ar­
rangement. How soon may I expect you to take your leave of us?

HORVATH. (Stands thunderstruck, then quietly…) Immediately, sir.

(Exits stockroom.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (To MISS MOLNAR:) Is your cash drawer

balanced?

MISS MOLNAR. Yes, Mr. Hammerschmidt, would you care to

check it?

(Stands up.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Perhaps later. Give me the key.

22 E.P. Dowdall

(MISS MOLNAR locks the register and gives HAMMER­

SCHMIDT the key. She then exits to the stockroom.)

SIPOS. Excuse me, sir…shall I start?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What?

SIPOS. Which window shall we do first, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Which window? Which window? Which­

ever window you wish Mr. Sipos. We only have two windows. Start
on one of them. Make a decision for God’s sake.

SIPOS. Yes sir.

(SIPOS opens the farthest window and starts taking out displays,
putting them carefully on the counter.)

MISS RITTER. I beg your pardon, Mr. Hammerschmidt…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes?

MISS RITTER. If it’s alright with you, sir, I’d like to leave at nine.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Go now if you like. We’re alright here.

MISS RITTER. Thank you very much, sir.

(Exits to stockroom.)

(A long pause. SIPOS works in the window. HAMMER-

SCHMIDT walks to the entrance door and stands there gazing
out into the street, his hands clasped behind his back. It is quiet in
the shop now and outside the snow falls in huge white flakes. Sud­
denly the door up right bursts open and AMALIA enters.)

AMALIA. (She is about twenty-five, soft spoken. But at this moment her
cheeks are burning, her eyes glowing—she is in a state of great agitation.
She too is wearing a white coat, the sleeves of which are rolled up. Her hands
are messy with the white cream she has been handling, she is wiping them
with a cloth.) I’m sorry, Mr. Hammerschmidt, but I can’t stand it any
longer.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Turning around:) What is it?

 Parfumerie 23

AMALIA. I will not stand for the way Mr. Horvath behaves to­wards
me any longer.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What did he do to you?

AMALIA. He’s making my life intolerable. He accuses me of spread-

ing rumors about him. He thinks that I thought up some kind of lie
to tell you. A lie he says that has undermined his posi­tion here. He
says that I’m just a bit too clever. And that he’s getting all the blame
for my shortcomings. I work hard Mr. Hammer­schmidt. It isn’t fair.
I just can’t take it anymore.

HORVATH. (Coming from stockroom without his white coat:) Yes, I

finally told her what I think is going on here.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Mr. Horvath, I don’t care what you think.

(Exits to office.)

AMALIA. (Heatedly:) Tell me, what’s your game? Why am I such a

threat to you? Do you want my job for some friend of yours? Do you
think I don’t work hard enough for this barely tolerable pay. (Cries.)
I just can’t stand it, I can’t stand YOU anymore and I’d rather quit
right now then have to put up with your venom and slander another
minute.

HORVATH. Slander? Look who’s talking about slander. Miss A-

MAAA-LIA Balash. Are you hearing this, Mr. Sipos? (He says A-
MAAA-LIA like one announcing royalty.)

SIPOS. (Without looking up from his work:) I don’t seem to have much
choice.

AMALIA. Listen Mr. Horvath, I’m going to speak my peace whether

you like it or not.

You have been at me since the day I came through that door two
years ago. For two years I’ve been listening to your sarcastic re­marks
about my work and every single thing I do and say. Every day this
goes on from the minute we open until we close at night.

If I come in five minutes early in the morning you say to everyone

“Oh look, Miss Balash is trying to impress the boss.” And then if
I’m even a few minutes late it’s “Maybe Miss Balash could consider
spending a little less time out with her friends and a little more time
24 E.P. Dowdall

in the shop with us.” According to you, I can’t wrap a package, I’m a
bad salesperson, I’m lazy and careless, and I’m frightening the cus-
tomers away.

And on top of that you had the nerve to tell Mr. Hammerschmidt,
you, that when I load the tubes of Mona Lisa cream, the customers
complain that they have to use the tube upside down because the
cream will only come out the bottom. That’s a ridiculous slanderous
comment and you know it.

HORVATH. Ridiculous?

(Furiously grabs a tube from the shelf and unscrews the cap and
squeezes.)

(The entire contents of the tube shoots out the bottom into his
hand. He wipes his hands with a cloth.)

There. Your very own handiwork.

AMALIA. YOU ordered the tubes.

HORVATH. Ohhhh, so it’s MY fault. Me and the tubes. But yet mys-
teriously I can load a tube and have the Mona Lisa come out the
proper end. Perhaps it’s something about my smile. (He smiles a fake
smile.)

AMALIA. I don’t know…you’d find a way to spoil it for me I’m

sure. I think you’d do just about anything to get me out of here.

HORVATH. Did you hear her, Mr. Sipos? It’s still my fault. Every­
one’s fault except of course Miss A-MAAA-LIA Balash.

AMALIA. And if you call me A-MAAA-LIA Balash one more time,

I’ll scream so loud the police will come.

SIPOS. (Annoyed:) Will you two please stop fighting. You’re giving
me such a headache.

AMALIA. But he keeps calling me A-MAAA-LIA BAA-lash. God,

it’s maddening!

HORVATH. (Interrupting:) Just listen to her, Mr. Sipos…

SIPOS. Leave me out of it.

 Parfumerie 25

HORVATH. Forgive me that your parents christened you Amalia. I

suppose I’m to blame for that too.

AMALIA. Now you’re going to attack my parents?

HORVATH. (For a brief moment, he recognizes that he has overstepped

propriety. It doesn’t last.) I’m sorry.

AMALIA. Oh God, so now he’s a gentleman.

HORVATH. Well, what do you expect me to do when every time I

turn my back, I get a knife stuck in it?

AMALIA. Now you listen to me, Mr. Horvath, I want you to know
that I have never talked behind your back. And I’m not afraid to tell
you right to your face that I can’t stand the sight of you and that I do
not intend to spend another day in this shop with you.

HORVATH. Well don’t you worry about that Miss Balash. You
won’t have to. You have succeeded in your quest to ANNOY me out
of this shop. Starting Monday you won’t have to bear the sight of me
any longer. Congratulations.

(Storms out exiting to stockroom.)

AMALIA. What does he want from me Sipos? I’ve done nothing to

him. In fact I’ve done my very best to ignore him.

SIPOS. You call that nothing? To a man that’s a pretty big blow.
(Smiles.) My dear Miss Balash, did it ever occur to you that you might
try NOT ignoring him?

AMALIA. Not ignore him? What good could come of that? He has
always been so hateful to me.

SIPOS. Yes, hate, or maybe something else.

AMALIA. Something else? Why if he were the last man on earth…

SIPOS. (Interrupting:) Oh no, wait, stop, don’t bring down the Apoc-
alypse on us. The last two people on Earth. It scares me just to think
about it being you two. (Laughs.) You know, I just don’t get people
sometimes. You’ve been working closely next to one another for two
years now. You live a good part of your lives together be­hind this
26 E.P. Dowdall

counter, in this shop and still you have no idea. Maybe I’m just too
old to understand, Amalia dear.

AMALIA .(Oblivious to his point:) There, you see…YOU call me Ama-

lia. Plain and simple. Just Amalia. That’s my name, Amalia. He’s
never once called me that. To him I’m Miss A-MAAA-LIA BAAA-
lash.

SIPOS. Yes, I’ll admit that is a bit formal. Perhaps a little too for­mal.
It’s become kind of a joke with him you know, not a good one I’ll
admit. (AMALIA stares at him.) But I guess I can assume you don’t
see much humor in it.

AMALIA. (She stares at SIPOS a moment longer, then goes on with her
point:) He sometimes calls Miss Ritter, Mitzi…but maybe I know the
reason for that.

SIPOS. And what would that be pray tell?

AMALIA. Because he’s having an affair with her.

SIPOS. What?

AMALIA. Sure, why not. I can see it all perfectly.

SIPOS. You need glasses my dear.

AMALIA. You’re being kind, Mr. Sipos but a woman can tell these
things.

SIPOS. He’s not having an affair with anyone, especially Miss Rit-
ter.

AMALIA. What makes you so certain of that?

SIPOS. Miss Ritter has her plate quite full with a fiancé (so to speak)
and then of course, there’s Mr. Kadar.

AMALIA. Mr. Kadar?

SIPOS. Why yes, of course. They were a “thing” for the longest time.
She was his “future.” So he told her. But now I believe Miss Ritter
has suddenly become Mr. Kadar’s awkward past, and a li­ability at
that. He has a different bigger future in that conniving mind of his,
 Parfumerie 27

and she’s a future he’s working very hard on. One might say over-
time in fact.

(Laughs softly.)

But you mark my words, one of these days that “future” is going to
catch up with him, and when it does, there’s going to be quite a little
scandal in this shop and Mr. Kadar will be standing smack in the
middle of it, right up to his neck in “futures.”

And as to Miss Ritter and Mr. Horvath, he’s just not to her taste at
all.

AMALIA. Why? What’s wrong with Mr. Horvath?

SIPOS. He’s just a little too stable for the likes of her.

AMALIA. Too stable? Why he’s one of the most un-stable men I’ve
ever met. The man should be in an institution.

SIPOS. (Trying to end this conversation:) Well, whatever you say. Do

me a favor now and help me bring the Christmas tree out from the
stockroom.

AMALIA. Tell me, Mr. Sipos…

SIPOS. Yes?

AMALIA. Why did Mr. Horvath say that starting Monday, I won’t
have to bear the sight of him anymore?

SIPOS. He had a fight with the old man…just before the one he had
with you.

AMALIA. I didn’t know that. He just came into the stockroom and
started in on me. What happened?

SIPOS. Oh, I don’t want to make too much of it. The old man’s
been on edge for days. He said something to Horvath, Horvath an­
swered back…one word led to another and Horvath said he would
be obliged to make “other arrangements.” He quit.

AMALIA. And Mr. Hammerschmidt?

SIPOS. He let him. He said Mr. Horvath was free to make his “other
28 E.P. Dowdall

arrangements” permanent.

AMALIA. And is he really leaving?

SIPOS. No, no of course not…by Monday morning they’ll both have

forgotten the whole affair…the old man’s just jumpy…I’m sure he
already regrets the whole thing.

AMALIA. What was it they fought about?

SIPOS. That’s just it, nothing. I told you the old man’s nervous. He’s
been impossible this entire week. Yesterday, he gave it to me. And I
let him. You know it’s pointless for anyone to be rude to me because
I don’t get insulted. And believe me, Mr. Hammerschmidt has said
far worse things to me than he has ever said to Mr. Horvath. For
example, the other day he accused me of stealing Eau de Cologne
from my counter.

AMALIA. (Shocked:) What? What did you say?

SIPOS. I said, “Mr. Hammerschmidt, do I look like the type who

uses Eau de Cologne?” And he said, “You probably sell it on the
side.” And I replied, “Mr. Hammerschmidt, do I look like I have
an income on the side selling eau de cologne? Then he yelled at me
some more and then he told me that what I look like is the type of
person who steals. (Shrugging his shoulders:) Well, I said to him, that
I can’t help.

AMALIA. Mr. Sipos, he didn’t really say those things to you?

SIPOS. Yes and then to finish it off he yelled at me that I shouldn’t

answer back when he’s yelling at me.

AMALIA. What did you do then?

SIPOS. (Smiles.) I apologized.

AMALIA. You apologized?

SIPOS. Amalia dear, when you’re as old as I am with a family to

support, you apologize even while you’re being yelled at. Please
don’t think of it as cowardice…think of it as bravery in the face of
adversity. And when you compare it to the world at large, does it
really matter? All across the world thousands die of starvation every
day. In so many places neighboring countries are constantly at war.
 Parfumerie 29

We hear all the time of natural disasters causing great dev­astation.

Now think about it, think about a tiny little man in a Par­fumerie on
Vaci Street in Budapest, Hungary being yelled at by an­other tiny
little man…so what? (Shrugs his shoulders.) I have my job.

(Exits to stockroom.)

KADAR. (Coming from the street:) Amalia, darling.

AMALIA. Hello, Mr. Kadar.

KADAR. I haven’t seen you all afternoon.

AMALIA. I’ve been working in the stockroom. Where have you

been?

KADAR. The old man sent me to his house on an errand. (Whis­

pering:) Is he still upset?

AMALIA. I think so.

KADAR. Just my luck, of all days.

AMALIA. Why?

KADAR. I was going to ask him for a little advance. But I guess I
won’t now if he’s still being grouchy. Amalia darling, do me a favor…
lend me twenty till the first of the month.

AMALIA. I’m sorry, Mr. Kadar but I don’t have it.

KADAR. On my word of honor, I’ll pay it back on the first. Look

I already owe you sixty, if you give me twenty now that’ll make a
nice even…eighty. I can’t promise to pay it ALL back on the first, but
sixty for sure and twenty by the sixteenth. On my word of honor.

AMALIA. You promised the last time too.

KADAR. But something unforeseen has happened.

AMALIA. September I loaned you a good deal of money for an

“emergency” and you assured me it was just for a few days. Ever
since then it seems “unforeseen things” have been happening to you.
I needed that money to pay my rent and you promised me you’d
pay me back immediately. Now it’s been three months and I’ve been
30 E.P. Dowdall

behind on my rent every month since then. My landlord has been

understanding but it’s embarrassing. I have never been behind in
my rent for as long as I’ve lived on my own. That is until now.

KADAR. Amalia, I’ll pay it all back on the first, I prom­ise…gentle-

man’s word of honor. But this once, please help me. I’ll never ask
you again I swear. I’m very worried about my sister, she may have
to go into the hospital.

AMALIA. Last time you said it was your little brother who was sick.
You don’t have a little brother.

KADAR. Of course I do. Well…actually…he’s my nephew. He’s like

a little brother to me. And wouldn’t you know it, he AND my niece
are coming up from the country tomorrow to visit me, their uncle in
the big city and here I am completely broke.

AMALIA. That family of yours, it just keeps growing minute to min-

ute.

KADAR. Amalia darling, I swear I’ll pay you back on the first.

AMALIA. Doesn’t matter. I don’t have that much money with me

anyway.

KADAR. How much do you have?

AMALIA. I probably have five in my purse.

KADAR. Could you borrow the rest from someone else?

(AMALIA stares at him.)

AMALIA. You’ve got to be kidding. No one has any money around

here anyway.

KADAR. How about Mitzi or Betty…they usually have, that is to

say they might have something they could spare.

AMALIA. Ask them yourself.

KADAR. I can’t take money from women.

(Pause.)
 Parfumerie 31

Oh, I didn’t mean… You’re an exception. To me, you’re not a wom-

an, you’re my friend, my pal, you’re like…like a gentleman.

AMALIA. Um, thank you… Go away now?

(SIPOS returns from stockroom carrying quite a large Christmas

tree.)

KADAR. Sipos, old boy…

SIPOS. Don’t bother asking… I have no money.

(Stands the tree in the window, then goes into the window himself
and starts making cotton snowballs from a big wad of cotton.)

(AMALIA exits to stockroom. The phone rings.)

KADAR. (Picking up receiver:) Hammerschmidt’s Parfumerie…

Mr. Hammerschmidt?… Who’s calling please?… Just one moment,
please…

(Puts down phone, goes to office and opens door.)

Mr. Hammerschmidt?…hmmm, not here.

(Opens stockroom door.)

Miss Molnar, will you please tell Mr. Hammerschmidt that he’s
wanted on the phone…

(Goes behind the counter.)

MISS MOLNAR. (Just her voice, in the stockroom:) Mitzi, please tell
Mr. Hammerschmidt that he’s wanted on the phone.

MISS RITTER. (Her voice, still farther away:) Mr. Horvath, Mr. Ham-
merschmidt is wanted on the phone.

(SIPOS works on in the window. KADAR lounges behind the

counter. Pause to justify Mr. Hammerschmidt’s walk.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Enters.) Who is it?

KADAR. He wouldn’t say, sir…he wants to talk to you personally.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (At the phone:) Hello?… Hammerschmidt…

32 E.P. Dowdall

yes, it is me… Who? Oh, it’s you… (Pauses and lowers his voice:) Yes…
yes…yes… Then I definitely want to talk to you tonight… Nine
o’clock?… I can’t leave the shop… Can you come here?…yes, we can
talk without being disturbed… Good…nine o’clock then…

(Puts down phone.)

KADAR. Mr. Hammerschmidt, Mrs. Hammerschmidt said that af­

ter the theater this evening she and some friends will be at the Café
Venice and will wait for you there. They’ll probably stay till about
twelve and then go home.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Alright…thank you.

(Goes to window. Looks at the tree.)

Not bad.

SIPOS. (Talking from the window:) It will look even better when it’s lit
up. Do you think I’ve made enough snow?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I think so, we’ll have to look at it from the

outside… Will you be finished soon?

SIPOS. In a few minutes, sir. Mr. Kadar can start taking the things
out of the other window.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, no, we have time for that on Monday.

When you’re through with this one, everyone can go home.

SIPOS. Yes, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Don’t wait for me… I’ll be staying here for a

while yet… I have some work to do.

(Starts toward office.)

MISS RITTER. (Coming from stockroom, dressed in a smart winter out­

fit:) Good night, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good night, Miss Ritter.

(Exits office.)

(SIPOS works in the window, KADAR and MISS RITTER are

whispering.)
 Parfumerie 33

MISS RITTER. Are you coming over to my place later? I thought we

might go to a movie.

KADAR. No, I’m not.

MISS RITTER. That sounds rather final, don’t you think?

KADAR. Could you just drop it? I’m not coming over, so stop ask­
ing me will you?

MISS RITTER. So you’re telling me it’s over?

KADAR. Completely over.

MISS RITTER. Don’t think I don’t know why.

KADAR. Of course you know why. I told you quite plainly… It was
either this fiancé of yours or me… I’m not going to sip my soup from
the same bowl as another man.

MISS RITTER. (Softly:) “Sip your soup” you say. My, how moral
we’ve become. And quite the gastronome.

You know, for a whole year it never bothered you… And now all
of a sudden… But I’ll tell you why…it’s because you’re playing up
to the old woman to get close to the daughter. I think you smell op­
portunity, Mr. Soup Sipper.

KADAR. You know nothing.

MISS RITTER. And you’ll try very hard…perhaps if you’re clever

enough they’ll let you marry the child. You’ve tried practically eve­
rything else…and every one else…so why not this? It wouldn’t be a
bad thing marrying into a business, would it Mr. Kadar?

(Pause.)

You’re so obvious, suddenly so careful, so reserved, like no one

would notice this unlikely change in the man. You make me sick.

KADAR. If you really must know. I have no interest in the child. Not
when the mother is so willing.

MISS RITTER. Mrs. Hammerschmidt? You’re insane! You’re truly

insane.
34 E.P. Dowdall

KADAR. (Quite calmly:) And you’re upset…so I’ll do you the honor
of simply ignoring you.

(Exits to Mr. Hammerschmidt’s office.)

MISS RITTER. (Composes herself, blows her nose then powders it.) Good
night, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. (From the window:) Good night, Miss Ritter. Enjoy your movie.

(MISS RITTER turns on her heel and exits.)

(SIPOS has finished. He lights up the Christmas tree and the win­
dow is all aglow. He comes out of the window and stands back to
admire his work. Then he closes the door of the window.)

HORVATH. (Enters from stockroom wearing his hat and coat. He is quite
broken up, and begins to speak quietly:) Well, good-bye Sipos. Remem-
ber me to your wife. And in case we don’t meet for a while, try not
to forget me right away.

SIPOS. (Surprised:) What? What are you saying? You’re not really
leaving?

HORVATH. (With a sad smile:) What choice do I have? After nine

years he has kicked me out. And for reasons I’ve yet to understand.
Pretty short notice don’t you think? Nice Christmas present.

SIPOS. Have you lost your mind?

HORVATH. Why?

SIPOS. First of all, you weren’t kicked out, well not exactly. It was
you who resigned in a fit of anger. Secondly, you’re taking this whole
thing far too seriously. I say you just show up on Monday morning
like nothing happened.

HORVATH. (Quietly:) You know fifteen minutes ago that’s what I

had planned to do.

SIPOS. So?

HORVATH. I went into Mr. Hammerschmidt’s office to…apolo­

gize. (Indicates SIPOS regarding his advice.)
 Parfumerie 35

SIPOS. And…

HORVATH. He already had my pay through today tallied up and

in a neat little pile on his desk. He asked me for my keys and said,
“My dear Mr. Horvath, it’s actually better that you leave us now. I
was just about to let someone go and you would have been as like-
ly a candidate as any. It just doesn’t make sense from a business
per­spective for me to keep six full-time clerks in these hard times.”
“You’re an ambitious young man,” he said with a tone I couldn’t
fathom. “I know you’ll find other work in no time at all. Besides,
you’re a single man with no family responsibilities. I’m sure you
understand my choice though not easy, was clear.”

SIPOS. (Takes out his handkerchief and wipes his forehead.) But this is
awful, awful. Are you sure you understood what he was saying?

HORVATH. Those were his exact words. Furthermore, on Monday

morning, he said I should go to see his solicitor regarding a reason­
able severance arrangement.

(Short pause.)

SIPOS. I just don’t understand it.

HORVATH. Well, I do. I believe it’s Miss AMAAA-LIA BAAA-lash’s

revenge. It’s the only explanation.

SIPOS. You don’t know what you’re talking about. What is it with
you and that girl? The only thing that I can think of that would be
more idiotic than how much you seem to hate her would be if you
had feelings for her. It’s so adolescent.

HORVATH. Feelings? For HER? And you say I don’t know what
I’M talking about. Oh, what’s the point. Goodbye my friend.

SIPOS. Wait, wait…let me go in and talk to him.

HORVATH. Forget it. It won’t do any good

SIPOS. Oh, why did you have to argue? (To himself:) I push him,
I nudge him, I pinch him, I kick him…but no…he has to have his
say…he has to “act accordingly.” (Back to HORVATH:) You deserve
to be slapped but good.

HORVATH. I see now I guess, that he had his reasons. He came

36 E.P. Dowdall

right out with it…he wanted to cut the payroll and he picked me
because I have only myself to watch out for. I know things have been
tight around here. I suppose it was only a matter of time. If it wasn’t
today, then tomorrow.

SIPOS. We’re closed tomorrow. It’s Sunday.

HORVATH. You know what I mean.

SIPOS. What can be done? What can be done?…

HORVATH. Nothing, Sipos. But I thank you most sincerely for wor-
rying so much about me.

SIPOS. My dear boy, it’s only natural that I should. It’s just that I’m
at a loss as to what I can possibly do now.

HORVATH. It’s alright, you don’t need to do anything. I’ll find

something. And there’s that little severance to tide me over. Bad tim-
ing though. So suddenly like this. And with the plans I’d made.

SIPOS. Plans?

HORVATH. Did I tell you I was planning on getting married?

SIPOS. Married? You did not. All you said was that you were cor­
responding with a young lady.

HORVATH. (Softly:) For a year and a half.

SIPOS. But marriage? Have you ever even met?

HORVATH. Well no, not exactly, but we have a rendezvous set for
tomorrow afternoon.

(Short pause.)

I guess I won’t keep it now given the circumstances. You know some-
thing…I’ve never in my life waited like this for a Sunday be­fore. You
can’t imagine Sipos what it’s like to love someone through their let-
ters. You have no idea what she looks like and yet you love her un-
questioningly. You might wonder about her eyes, her hair, her nose,
her mouth,…but her heart, that you know perfectly. You hear her
heart beating in those letters, in every word, in every finely formed
sentence, in every tender thought. Sipos, I haven’t slept all week an-
 Parfumerie 37

ticipating tomorrow afternoon. I was to go the Three Hus­sars Café

to introduce myself to a girl whose name I don’t even know…yet
love like no other. Though I expect she’ll be beautiful, I’ve prayed all
week that Box 1222 shouldn’t be too beautiful…just filled with the
beauty that I already know from every letter… Of course I suppose
it wouldn’t hurt if she’s not bad looking.

(Short pause.)

But now, I’ll never know as I must by necessity call the whole thing
off.

SIPOS. (Very touched:) Don’t call it off. Go, George, go and meet
her.

HORVATH. No…it would just be worse after all this.

SIPOS. (Sarcastically:) Oh sure, you’re right. At least you could al­

ways remember fondly that she might have been extremely ugly and
that you were just lucky to get out of the whole thing.

HORVATH. (He looks at SIPOS, then goes on:) We’d already decided
to have our letters published after we were married.

SIPOS. What?

HORVATH. Yes, in book form. I’ve always wanted to be a writer.

SIPOS. And what stopped you?

HORVATH. I didn’t dare do it alone.

SIPOS. What is there so daring about it?

HORVATH. I was afraid of not being intelligent enough. But then

she once wrote me that my letters had the same effect on her as Tol­
stoy’s “War and Peace.”

(SIPOS looks at him not sure what to make of this comment.)

Well…good-bye, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. Good-bye my friend. Come to see us once in a while after

you get settled. I know my wife would be delighted if you would
visit. You know where we live, Szondi Street, number 14.
38 E.P. Dowdall

HORVATH. Thank you, I’d be happy to come.

(Starts out.)

AMALIA. (She is dressed to leave. Her outfit is modest but tasteful.) Oh,
Mr. Horvath…

HORVATH. (Turns.)

AMALIA. I feel it my duty to tell you that I have never once said
a bad word about you to Mr. Hammerschmidt…as God is my wit-
ness.

HORVATH. I believe you, A-MAAA-LIA.

(Exits.)

AMALIA. (Almost crying:) Now there…you heard him. What rea­son

did he have to be mean to me now?

SIPOS. How was he mean?

AMALIA. He AMAAA-lia’d me again.

SIPOS. Leave him be, poor boy. He’s got enough trouble as it is.

KADAR. (Coming from stockroom in hat and coat:) Good night, all.

SIPOS. Good night.

KADAR. (He pauses and looks forlornly at AMALIA.)

AMALIA. (She sighs, shakes her head and pulls a bill from her pocket.
Hands it to KADAR.)

KADAR. You have saved my life, truly. I promise you’ll have it back
on the first.

AMALIA. Good night, Mr. Kadar.

KADAR. Sipos, my good fellow, do you have a cigarette?

SIPOS. I have…but you won’t smoke my brand.

KADAR. And why not?

 Parfumerie 39

SIPOS. Because I won’t give you any.

KADAR. My, my…what a sense of humor you have.

SIPOS. Well, at least it’s something I don’t have to borrow.

KADAR. (Exits.)

SIPOS. (Growling:) It’s just wrong. Why couldn’t Hammerschmidt

have fired THAT fool. My blood boils when I think of it.

(Starts toward the stockroom, takes off his white coat.)

Wait for me, Amalia dear, we can walk as far as the square together.

(Exits to stockroom.)

AMALIA. I’ll wait, Mr. Sipos.

ARPAD. (The errand boy enters from the street. He is about seventeen,
and a bit rough around the edges. He is wearing a turtle-necked sweater,
bicycle clips on his trousers and has a linen delivery bag slung over his
shoulder.) Good evening, Miss Balash.

AMALIA. Arpad… Mr. Hammerschmidt is very angry…where

have you been?

ARPAD. Angry, ah well he’ll get over it. I don’t know if I will though.
Here I have this one Saturday night to call my own and they send me
all over town on their personal errands…ha…and he’s angry.

AMALIA. Who they? They sent you on personal errands?

ARPAD. Yes, first Mr. Hammerschmidt and then Mrs. Hammer­

schmidt. Sixteen places she sent me…all over the place…and in this
lousy weather too…and on a bicycle…when it’s so slippery it’s even
dangerous to walk… And don’t think I didn’t have any accidents,
because I did…three.

MISS MOLNAR. (Dressed to leave, comes from stockroom:) Coming

Amalia?

AMALIA. Not yet, I’m waiting for Sipos.

MISS MOLNAR. OK. Good night, then.

40 E.P. Dowdall

AMALIA. Good night Betty.

MISS MOLNAR. (To ARPAD:) Where have YOU been?

ARPAD. To the Turkish Baths.

MISS MOLNAR. What kind of an answer is that?

ARPAD. What do you mean, “what kind of answer is that?” I went

to the Turkish Baths to tell the masseuse and the manicurist to go to
Mrs. Hammerschmidt’s tomorrow morning…

MISS MOLNAR. Oh, that’s different.

ARPAD. And why is it any business of yours? Who are you?

MISS MOLNAR. I’m your mother.

ARPAD. You’re not my mother.

MISS MOLNAR. Well somebody needs to be.

ARPAD. Awww…go away. (Grumbles:) Who does she think she is

anyway? One of these days I’m going to run her over with my bicy­
cle, that’s what.

AMALIA. Oh Arpad, don’t say such things. You know she only
has your best interests and the best interests of this shop at heart.
Per­sonally, I think you’re beginning to make a sport out of running
people over with that bicycle of yours.

ARPAD. You know that bike is the only thing between me and a
very dangerous world. (Thinking:) What does she think I do at the
Turkish baths…take baths?

AMALIA. Oh, stop already!

SIPOS. (Comes from stockroom with hat, coat, rubbers and umbrella:)
Ready, Amalia?

AMALIA. Shouldn’t we wait for Mr. Hammerschmidt?

SIPOS. No, he said we should all go…he’s staying for a while yet…
he said he still had some work to do. He just seems so upset.

(Both exit.)
 Parfumerie 41

(ARPAD takes off his hat and tosses it in a corner, then goes up
to the balcony. He’s alone on the stage. He is noiselessly arranging
boxes on the balcony shelves.)

(HAMMERSCHMIDT, still wearing his white coat comes in

from the office. He flicks a few switches and all the lights go out
except those in the window. The stage is now in darkness but for
that source of light. He chews an unlit cigar. He stops in front of
the entrance door, looks out into the street, obviously expecting a
visitor. He looks at his watch, turns and slowly crosses towards
the office.)

(ARPAD suddenly drops a bar of soap. The noise is amplified in

the quiet.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Startled:) Who’s there?

ARPAD. Me.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Who “me”?

ARPAD. Arpad.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What are you doing there?

ARPAD. Putting away the soap.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. In the dark?

ARPAD. It was light up until a moment ago.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Oh. Well, why didn’t you say something?

ARPAD. It’s alright I can still see by the window lights.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I didn’t know you were there.

ARPAD. I didn’t know that you didn’t know.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Where have you been loafing all this time?

ARPAD. Mrs. Hammerschmidt sent me around to a few places.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Where?

ARPAD. Well, to the shoemaker on Rotenbiller Street… To Vermes

42 E.P. Dowdall

and Farkas on Kalvin Square…and then I had to pick up the fresh

rabbits at the butcher…then I had to take Miss Eva’s coat to the fur­
rier. And when I finished all this Mrs. Hammerschmidt sent me to
the Turkish Baths to arrange for someone to come out tomorrow.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. So we’re having rabbit?

ARPAD. Yes, I picked up three.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Go home, Arpad.

ARPAD. But the soap…I started stocking the shelves this afternoon
but they’re still here in the cartons.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Finish it up on Monday.

ARPAD. I really don’t mind doing it now, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Don’t argue with me boy, I said you can go.

ARPAD. Yes, sir.

(Comes downstairs.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Do you have any money?

ARPAD. No, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Here take this…

ARPAD. Thank you very much, sir.

(At this moment the street door opens and a tall, thin man enters.
He wears a long black coat, a derby hat and carries a briefcase
under his arm.)

DETECTIVE. Good evening.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good evening. (To ARPAD:) Get going now,

good night.

ARPAD. We still have to lock up…I can wait for you.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, I’ll lock up my boy…you go ahead

now.
 Parfumerie 43

ARPAD. Well alright. Good night.

(Exits.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Pointing to one of the chairs in front of the coun­

ter:) Please sit down.

DETECTIVE. Thank you.

(He is slow and pedantic. He puts his hat on the counter, sits down
and holds his briefcase on his lap.)

May I begin?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Impatiently:) Yes…yes…please do.

DETECTIVE. Is there anyone else here?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No…no one else…we’re quite alone.

DETECTIVE. What I am about to tell you, you may not wish to hear.
Do you understand? Shall I go on?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Nervously:) Yes, you may speak freely.

DETECTIVE. Your suspicions were completely justified, Mr. Ham-

merschmidt. Last night from eight o’clock until eleven o’clock, Mrs.
Hammerschmidt was in the apartment of your employee. (Now read­
ing from his notes:) Arena Street—number 14, apartment 3 on the
main floor.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Shocked:) What address?

DETECTIVE. Arena Street, number 14, the apartment of a Mr. Ste­

ven Kadar, employed here by you as a chief clerk.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. But I thought, George, that is, I thought Mr.

George Horvath…

DETECTIVE. No, no. Mr. Steven Kadar is the lessee. It’s a one-room
studio previously part of the book shop in the building. Last sum-
mer when the building was renovated, they separated a room from
the book shop. On the first of August last, Mr. Steven Kadar, of your
establishment rented the apartment and lives there alone,…well
mostly alone. The only entrance to the apartment is the door right
44 E.P. Dowdall

next to the main entrance of the building. Entrance and exit from the
apartment is by means of this door only. All activity to and from the
apartments was observed and verified by me.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Leans on the counter and runs his fingers

through his hair.) I see.

DETECTIVE. Mrs. Hammerschmidt entered said apartment at ex­

actly three minutes after eight o’clock last evening accompanied
by the tenant and at exactly seven minutes after eleven, she left the
apartment, by herself. At twenty three minutes past eleven, the ten­
ant left the apartment, also alone.

(Pause.)

This has occurred on several occasions which I have observed since I

came into your employ. I have the dates and times all here.

(He displays some notes.)

Do you wish for me to continue my observations of the subjects?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Softly:) What is there left to observe?

DETECTIVE. Well, some of my clients desire to be more thor­oughly

informed.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Quietly:) No, I am sufficiently informed.

(Short pause.)

DETECTIVE. Well then, do you have any further instructions for

me, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, nothing…thank you. What do I owe

you?

DETECTIVE. (Handing him the papers:) Here, sir is all of the docu­
mentation and an itemized list of my expenses.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes… (Taking papers:) Wait a moment, please.

(Goes into office.)

(The DETECTIVE stands up, looks around the shop, buttons his
coat.)
 Parfumerie 45

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Comes back with money.) Here you are…

DETECTIVE. Thank you. (Taking money:) Oh I’m sorry sir, this is a

rather large bill. I don’t think I have enough to…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Don’t worry about it, you did a good job. A

very thorough job.

DETECTIVE. Thank you very much, Mr. Hammerschmidt… Good

night, sir. Thank you for your business.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good night.

DETECTIVE. (Takes his hat, briefcase and bows:) Good luck, sir.

(Exits.)

(HAMMERSCHMIDT absentmindedly takes off his glasses. He

stands motionless, leaning against the counter. He passes his hand
over his fore­head, adjusts his glasses and begins to read the report
the detective left be­hind. But in the poor light he cannot read so
he tilts his head into the shaft of light that radiates from the shop
window and reads the report. The still­ness is so absolute that the
ticking of the clock becomes audible. He folds the sheet of paper,
puts it into his wallet and pockets it. He takes off his glasses and
paces slowly, twice, from shop door to office door and back. Then
he stops in front of the shop door and looks out into the street where
the snow is falling gently. He presses his forehead against the cold
glass. He turns, walks back to the counter, leans against it and
suddenly his body is shaken by a sob into the hardly audible words
“oh God, oh God.” He weeps, alone in the spacious shop, a tired,
heartbroken man. He reaches for his handkerchief, wipes his eyes
and blows his nose. He walks to the cash desk, switches on the
small light above it and sits down. He picks up a pencil, adjusts his
glasses and writes a few lines on a sheet of paper. He slips it into an
envelope, addresses it, glues it, gets up and switches off the light.
He then looks around the shop as if for the last time. Then slowly
walks towards his office.)

(The POLICEMAN’s face is seen peering through the shop door.

He opens the door and enters.)

POLICEMAN. Good evening, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good evening, officer…

46 E.P. Dowdall

POLICEMAN. I looked in because I saw a light. I didn’t think you’d

be here so late.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I still have some work to do.

POLICEMAN. Beautiful Christmas tree.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. It is nice, isn’t it?

POLICEMAN. You’ve got the best looking window on all of Vaci

Street. But then, what am I saying, you’ve got the prettiest window
every year. It’s always so warm and friendly. (He motions to the tree.)
Is it real?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Preoccupied:) What did you say?

POLICEMAN. I asked if the tree is real.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Oh, no, we’ve had it for years.

POLICEMAN. Well what do you know. Coulda fooled me. Well…

sorry if I disturbed you.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No bother…good night.

POLICEMAN. Good night, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

(Exits.)

(HAMMERSCHMIDT exits into his office, completely broken.)

(After a short pause, ARPAD appears at the window, peeking

in then enters. Closes the door very quietly behind him. Looks
around. He looks at the office door which is not altogether closed
and the light from within streaks through, onto the shop floor. He
announces himself, al­though somewhat quietly.)

ARPAD. I’m back. I forgot my hat.

Where the devil did I leave it?

(He sees it on the floor. Scoops it up, then goes to the office door.)

Mr. Hammerschmidt?
 Parfumerie 47

(He peeks in. For a moment he freezes to the spot, speechless. And
then shouting at the top of his lungs, rushes into the office.)

Please Mr. Hammerschmidt stop…no, no…stop!

End of Act I
 ACT II

(7:00, Monday morning. The shop is closed. It is cold, empty and

dreary. The lights on the Christmas tree are not lit. Outside the
snow has melted to a gray, dirty mass. The dawn of a December
morning creeps in through the windows. It is sleeting. From time
to time people with open umbrellas hurry by.

(ARPAD appears outside the shop door. He pushes his face against
the glass and knocks. He knocks again, this time harder.)

(The frosted glass pane of the office door lights up. ARPAD waits.
HAMMERSCHMIDT comes out of his office, tying the cord of
his dressing gown. Underneath he is wearing pajamas and has
obviously just woken up. He goes to the entrance door and unlocks
it.)

ARPAD. (Enters. In one hand he carries a suitcase, in the other he bal­ances

a breakfast tray.) Good morning Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Morning. (Locking the door:) What time is it?

ARPAD. It’s early sir, five past seven.

(Puts the suitcase in front of the counter and the tray on top of the
counter.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Looking out the door window:) Rotten weath-

er. Rotten Monday morning.

ARPAD. Lousy, sir. This slush is worse than when it freezes over.
At least when it freezes, my bike just skids. But in this muck I get all
splashed up. Not to mention what I do to the pedestrians.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Did you bring a paper?

ARPAD. No, I forgot…I’ll go right back out and get you one.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No hurry… Time enough later.

ARPAD. You better get dressed, sir. It’s chilly in here and you’ll
catch cold.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Doesn’t answer, just looks out the window.)

ARPAD. You should really eat your breakfast while it’s still warm.

49
50 E.P. Dowdall

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Goes to tray.) Why did you bring me tea?

You know I’m a coffee drinker.

ARPAD. Ah you see that’s the brilliance of it. It’s raining yes? I de­
duced that it can rain into an uncovered cup of coffee but not into a
pot of tea. Pretty smart eh?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. You could have brought me a pot of coffee,

couldn’t you?

ARPAD. Hmm. Didn’t think of that.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Very fatherly:) Foolish boy.

ARPAD. Sorry.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. The rolls are soggy.

ARPAD. I covered them carefully.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. With what?

ARPAD. A napkin.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. In the pouring rain.

(HAMMERSCHMIDT lifts a dripping napkin from the tray.)

ARPAD. Oh. I see your point. I’ll get some fresh ones from the baker
down the street.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, no, no, no… Don’t bother. (Eating:)

Where did you get this?

ARPAD. At the Carlton, sir…same as yesterday morning.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yesterday’s dishes are still here. Don’t for­get

to return both trays.

ARPAD. Yes, sir.

(Silence.)

I’ll light the heater.

 Parfumerie 51

(Goes behind the counter, strikes a match and lights the gas
heater.)

(Short pause.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Did you bring everything from the house I

asked you to?

ARPAD. Everything you wrote down. I noticed that you didn’t list
toothbrush or soap so I stopped and purchased them for you on the
way.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. You brought soap and a toothbrush to a par-

fumerie?

ARPAD. (Looks around.) Oh. Yeah.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Tell me Arpad, do you think at all?

ARPAD. Yes. But sometimes my thinking isn’t entirely, well I guess

you’d say, not entirely thought out. I just wanted to make sure you
had everything you need.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Just looks at him.) When did you go to the

house?

ARPAD. I gave the list to Mrs. Hammerschmidt last night and told
her to have the things ready for me to pick up early this morning. I
don’t think she took me seriously.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Were they ready?

ARPAD. No. But your daughter packed the bag when I got there a
little while ago.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Did they ask where I’m staying?

ARPAD. They asked.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What did you tell them?

ARPAD. I said I didn’t know for sure. I said that you had told me
to hold on to the suitcase until you sent me further instructions by
telegram.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What instructions by telegram?

52 E.P. Dowdall

ARPAD. About where to take the suitcase.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Did I tell you to say such idiotic things?

ARPAD. No, but I had to make up something. You said not to tell
them that you were sleeping here. If I would have mentioned a ho­tel
they could’ve phoned and found out that you’re not actually there.
At first I wanted to say that you’re staying at our house…but I wasn’t
sure if you’d like the accommodations.

(Short pause.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Very good Arpad. That was thought out,

“entirely.” You didn’t say a word to anyone, did you?

ARPAD. About what, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What I’ve forbidden you to ever mention.

ARPAD. Of course not.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No one?

ARPAD. So help me…no one.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Don’t ever tell anyone. Don’t ever let it slip

out.

(Pause. HAMMERSCHMIDT has finished his breakfast. AR-

PAD is dusting the back shelves.)

Did you take the letter to Mr. Horvath?

ARPAD. I did, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Last night?

ARPAD. No, this morning. He was still sleeping when I got there
but when he read your letter he got very excited. I told him that
you’d like him to get in here this morning before the others come.
Shall I unpack the suitcase, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, I want you to take it over to the Carlton

later.

ARPAD. Are you going to stay there, sir?

 Parfumerie 53

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes.

ARPAD. You know there’s a house in our neighborhood with a

room to let, telephone and all the amenities. It’s a lovely room with a
double French window. Nice people, a retired Colonel and his wife,
no children. Needs a little work, but very comfortable.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. So chatty this morning.

ARPAD. It’s a nice place really. Except for a few things that never
seem to get fixed.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What are you, the agent?

ARPAD. No sir, the handyman.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Shakes his head. Points to suitcase.) Take my

suitcase into the office.

ARPAD. Yes, sir.

(Takes bag into office.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. And heat up some water.

ARPAD. (Offstage:) I’m on it, sir.

(Pause. HAMMERSCHMIDT goes to the phone and dials.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Hello? Is this the Nagy residence? Is he in?

Tell him it’s Miklos Hammerschmidt calling. Yes, it’s very impor­
tant. I’ll wait.

(Short pause.)

Good morning, Peter. I’m so sorry to be calling you so early but I re-
ally needed to get a hold of you. Yes it is quite urgent. I tried to get
you yesterday. (Nods.) So they told me. I need your advice, your le-
gal advice and I’ll need you to do some work for me. No, nothing to
do with the shop. Purely a private matter. No, I’d rather not dis­cuss
it over the phone. Look I know this is an unearthly hour but do me a
favor and meet me at the Carlton Hotel in an hour…in the lounge…
Fine, I’ll see you then… Thank you.

ARPAD. (At office door:) Water’s hot…

54 E.P. Dowdall

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Goes behind counter, takes a razor, a brush and

a bar of soap from the shelf there.)

ARPAD. Are you going to shave, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes.

ARPAD. I’ll get some of the hot water for you.

(ARPAD goes back into the office. HAMMERSCHMIDT stands

a mirror on the shelf. ARPAD returns with a bowl of water.
HAM­MERSCHMIDT lathers his face, looking into the mirror
with his back to the audience.)

(Short pause.)

ARPAD. Shall I put the lights on?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, not yet they can see in from the outside.

ARPAD. But it’s dark in here and you could hurt yourself.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I think I’m out of danger now.

(Again a short pause as they look knowingly at each other. HAM­

MERSCHMIDT lathers, ARPAD cleans up around the shop.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Arpad?

ARPAD. Yes, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Don’t you EVER tell anyone that I’ve been

here these last two nights.

ARPAD. Why should I? (Taps the side of his nose) …our secret.

(Phone rings.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Answer that.

ARPAD. (At the phone:) Hello…Arpad speaking… Oh, good morn­ing

Mrs. Hammerschmidt. I don’t know ma’m, I just got here this min-
ute. It’s quite early, but yes, I’ll go and see. (Putting his hand over the
mouthpiece:) Mrs. Hammerschmidt wants to know if you’re here?

(Pause.)
 Parfumerie 55

Should I say no?

(Pause.)

Maybe I should say I didn’t get your telegram yet.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Give me the phone.

(Takes the phone from ARPAD.)

Hello…yes…you want to talk to me? …I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll

have any time this morning. Perhaps you could meet me at Peter
Nagy’s offices this afternoon. It might be best if we had our discus­
sion there.

(Hangs up phone and very matter-of-factly returns to his shav­

ing.)

Wipe the phone…it’s full of soap.

(There is a knock at the shop door. HORVATH has arrived.)

ARPAD. It’s Horvath.

(Opens the door and locks it again after HORVATH enters.)

Good morning, Mr. Horvath.

(Exits to office.)

HORVATH. Good morning, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good morning, George.

HORVATH. Arpad brought me your letter this morning, sir. I came

as soon as I could.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes, my boy.

(Short silence.)

HORVATH. So here I am.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I really do appreciate your coming.

(Comes from behind the counter.)

56 E.P. Dowdall

I asked you to come so that I can apologize to you face to face for
what has happened.

(Holding out his hand.)

If you could ever forgive me, I’d like very much for us to try to be
friends again, as I believe we have been these many years. I don’t
know what I could have been thinking.

HORVATH. (Very touched, takes the outstretched hand.) Of course, Mr.

Hammerschmidt. I’d like to apologize to you for my words the other
day.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, no don’t be ridiculous. The fault was all

mine. How can I tell you how sorry I am for how rude and unjust
I’ve been to you. But perhaps you will understand when I tell you
that it was because of certain circumstances, things that had been
happening to me lately, things that made me completely lose my
composure and my judgment. I was out of my mind.

(Pause.)

George, what does a man do in a situation like this. Where do you

go? Who can you turn to? I was utterly beaten down, shattered. My
world was spinning. My stomach ached and my mouth was filled
with a bitter bile. So I shouted at everyone, and I made your life hell.
God, I hated you.

(Short pause.)

HORVATH. (Plaintively:) But why, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Quietly, with a tired smile:) Because you were

my wife’s lover.

HORVATH. (Thunderstruck:) WHAT?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Well anyway I thought you were.

HORVATH. (Shocked:) But, but sir? Why would you ever think such
a thing?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. That’s just it, I didn’t think my boy. Some­

thing like this would never have occurred to me on my own. I was…
informed.
 Parfumerie 57

I’ve never been jealous in my life, not even when I was courting.
First of all, I had no time for it and then again it’s just something
that would never have come into my head. So why now? Why now
would I start being suspicious of my wife, after twenty-five years of
marriage? Can you imagine having a wife and family for so many
years and then suddenly, one day being told your wife has a lover?
You can’t imagine it. I can’t imagine it. And yet it was true. (Sits
down on a chair in front of the counter and talks simply:) It started last
Saturday. I received an anonymous letter…here at the shop. I read
it over and over again and still couldn’t understand it. “You would
be advised to look into your wife’s affairs as she has been regularly
meeting one of your employees without your knowledge for ques­
tionable purposes.”…It was signed “A friend.”

I couldn’t fathom it. Who would write such a thing. What a cow­
ardly, dastardly thing to tell a man. It was too unbelievable. One
hears of things like this happening all the time You read about it in
the papers. But when you get a letter like this yourself…it’s…it’s
shattering. First you don’t understand it, and then you don’t want
to understand it, and finally when you do understand it, you refuse
to believe it. Is it a horrible joke? Then you begin to make things
up, anything to make some other explanation fit the inevitable truth.
Maybe it was your wife herself that wrote such a note. Maybe she’s
testing you. You try to force yourself to think of every other con­
ceivable possibility, except the one possibility that it’s true.

(Pause.)

For a day or two you banish it from your mind like it never oc­curred,
but then the reality creeps back into your consciousness, and you are
overwhelmed by the weight of it, by the course of ac­tion it demands.
And so you obey the letter, you bow to your baser instincts, you hire
someone to observe your wife’s daily affairs still hoping to prove the
whole thing a lie.

HORVATH. (Very softly:) I’m sorry Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Do you have a mistress?

HORVATH. A mistress? Oh no, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No? But you must have somebody?

HORVATH. Well yes I do, sir…but she’s not my mistress.

58 E.P. Dowdall

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Do you love her?

HORVATH. I do.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Very much?

HORVATH. Very much, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Well I hope it turns out better for you than

it has for me. Here I am, sixty years old and for twenty-five years
believing I was the happy head of a family, untouched by the frail­
ties of others. Now just an old man deceived by a younger woman
he thought loved him unfailingly.

HORVATH. Mr. Hammerschmidt. I wish there were something I

could do for you. I don’t know what to say.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Say nothing my boy. It’s a page in the led-

ger of life that is written. It is time to take notice of the people and
friendships that are true. The proven friendships that have shown
more in deeds than any words or vows could say. All I need do is
look around me to see a faithful family that has been near and dear
to my heart.

HORVATH. I still don’t understand how you could have suspected

me.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Who else could I have thought of but you?

For nine years you’ve had supper with us every Wednesday and
Saturday. No one closer. I thought that… (He stops.) And then on
Saturday night after you all left, I found out the truth. The truth that
it wasn’t you. That it couldn’t be you.

HORVATH. Had I only known sir. I could have told you it was
impossible.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. But would I have believed you? I don’t

know. I was mad with jealousy. But that’s in the past now. This state
of affairs, you’ll pardon the expression, it wasn’t entirely a surprise.
I just refused to believe it. (Stands.) Go, take your coat off, it’s warm-
ing up in here now.

HORVATH. Yes, sir.

(Exits to stockroom.)
 Parfumerie 59

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Paces the shop again. HORVATH returns

wearing his white coat. He looks out the window and then turns.) Funny.
It’s like I’ve stepped back in time, wakened from a bad dream. At
this very moment, for just this moment, it’s as if I were still single,
when I was starting out, a Pharmacist’s clerk. There was a night bell
here at the pharmacy door. We had to open up whenever anyone
came with a prescription. We had to take turns sleeping nights in the
pharmacy. Did you know I slept here these last two nights, just like
in those days. I didn’t want to go to a hotel. I just wanted to be alone
to straighten things out in my own head.

I kept waking up suddenly thinking I could hear that bell ringing.

Ringing, ringing. Telling me “wake up” your life has passed you
by. And I would wake up, again and again wondering how I could
have come to this place. Wondering what it was all for. Why I’ve
worked so hard all of these years only to be betrayed and put aside
like so much expired hand cream. But you George, you have been
like a son to me, I see that now. Always faithful, always placing my
best interests and the best interests of this shop above your own per-
sonal needs and desires. It’s really too much George. You sacri­ficed
too. Maybe too much for someone to whom I have never made any
promises. That will change, I promise you now.

HORVATH. Mr. Hammerschmidt…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No more now, my boy.

ARPAD. (Coming from office:) The hot water is almost cold, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I’m coming, Arpad.

(Starts toward office, then turns back to HORVATH.)

Later we’ll go somewhere for dinner and figure things out. If that’s
alright with you.

(Exits.)

(HORVATH tries to take it all in. He breathes an enormous sigh

of relief as one redeemed. He smiles.)

(Meanwhile ARPAD takes his cleaning paraphernalia upstairs to

the balcony.)
60 E.P. Dowdall

ARPAD. (Bending over the balcony rail, whispers…) Psst…Mr. Horvath.

HORVATH. Yes?

ARPAD. Well, what do you think?

HORVATH. You know about Mr. Hammerschmidt?

ARPAD. Know? If I didn’t happen to come back here, Saturday

night.

(Stops short.)

HORVATH. If you hadn’t come back here Saturday night, what?

ARPAD. (Quietly:) We’d surely be closed today on account of a death

in the family.

HORVATH. What are you talking about?

ARPAD. I’m not supposed to say. I swore I wouldn’t tell. I prom­

ised. But seeing as it’s you and all.

(After a moment’s pause.)

It just happened that I forgot my hat. I’d put it down when I came
in around closing time and then left without it. I knew Mr. Ham­
merschmidt said he was working late, so I came back. The door was
open but the lights were all out on the floor.

HORVATH. No one else was here?

ARPAD. No, no one. Everyone had gone. There had been a man in
earlier, a detective, with, I can tell you now, some very disturbing
information. But he had gone too. I could see the light on in the of­
fice, but it was so quiet, too quiet. Something just seemed wrong. I
went over to the office door and looked in. And there was the old
man standing there, his eyes glazed over, holding a revolver in his
hand. I couldn’t imagine where Mr. Hammerschmidt would ever
have gotten a revolver.

HORVATH. We bought it last year after they robbed the salon next
door. It was in the safe.

ARPAD. But then I saw him lift the gun to his head, and I ran in
 Parfumerie 61

and we struggled. That’s when he bit me. (Rubs his hand and shows
HORVATH the mark.) Finally, as I managed to pull the gun out of his
hand it went off. That policeman heard the sound and came rushing
in, but Mr. Hammerschmidt told him it was nothing, an explosion
in the lab, so he left. Mr. Hammerschmidt collapsed on the floor and
sat there with his head in his hands. I stayed with him for awhile till
he seemed to come to his senses again. He told me to go home. I told
him I would stay, but he insisted. He said don’t worry. That if the
worst was going to happen it would have hap­pened, but no more.
He told me to go home and come back in the morning. I didn’t want
to leave him, but he insisted.

(Pause.)

He’s been here for two days.

HORVATH. Oh my god.

ARPAD. (Has made his way back down to the main floor:) Nice eh? He
spends day after day, night after night, year after year to keep the
wife in the style to which she is accustomed, and how does she re­pay
him? By taking up with one of his fancy shop clerks. That’s what the
detective told Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HORVATH. It was Kadar, wasn’t it.

ARPAD. What did you think? Sipos? Ha, and the old man thought
it was you!

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Calling from the office:) Arpad!

ARPAD. Coming, sir. (To HORVATH:) Remember, I didn’t say a

word.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Arpad. Where are my pants?

ARPAD. In the desk drawer, sir.

(Exits to office.)

HORVATH. (Goes to a street door and looks out. Short pause. Then turns
and goes to office door:) Mr. Hammerschmidt…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes, my boy?

62 E.P. Dowdall

HORVATH. It looks like it’s going to be a very gray sort of day.

Shall I turn some lights on now?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes, George, I think it’s time we turned all

the lights on. And don’t forget the windows.

HORVATH. The windows too?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes the windows too.

(HORVATH goes to switchboard and flicks one switch, after an­

other. First the windows light up, then the colored lights on the
Christmas tree and lastly the lights in the shop.)

(We see SIPOS passing the window. He knocks at the door.)

HORVATH. (Unlocks the door.) Good morning, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. Horvath…you’re here.

HORVATH. I am, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. What happened?

HORVATH. Mr. Hammerschmidt sent for me.

SIPOS. Thank God, you made up.

HORVATH. We did.

SIPOS. And did you apologize?

HORVATH. Me? Oh yes, Mr. Sipos, I apologized.

SIPOS. That was the correct thing to do. Is he here?

HORVATH. Yes, he’s here.

SIPOS. So early?

HORVATH. Yes, he came in, well, he’s been in for quite awhile.

SIPOS. So tell me, how did it happen? You said that he sent for
you.

HORVATH. He sent Arpad for me.

 Parfumerie 63

SIPOS. That’s wonderful. And what did he say when you got here?

HORVATH. He was very friendly. And he’s calling me George again.

SIPOS. Oh, I’m so happy. How about his nerves? Is he still on edge?

HORVATH. No, not at all.

SIPOS. Not at all?

HORVATH. No.

SIPOS. You mean to tell me that he’s in good humor?

HORVATH. Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it good humor, but let’s

just say he’s calmed down, considerably.

SIPOS. Alright, I’ll be right back, I just want to put these things away
and then I want you to tell me everything, every detail.

(Hurries into office with his garments and boots.)

(HORVATH goes behind counter.)

ARPAD. (Coming from office:) I’ll be out for a few minutes Mr. Hor-
vath, can I get you anything?

HORVATH. No thanks Arpad. Where are you going?

ARPAD. (Looking at the stack of dishes he is carrying:) I’m just going to

take these back to the hotel before anyone starts asking questions.

(Starts off.)

HORVATH. (Whispering:) Arpad.

ARPAD. Yes?

HORVATH. Not a word to anyone.

ARPAD. I understand. Nobody’s business but our own.

HORVATH. No one, not even Mr. Sipos. No one.

ARPAD. Right.

(Exits.)
64 E.P. Dowdall

SIPOS. (Comes from office wearing white coat:) He’s in a very good
mood.

HORVATH. What did I tell you?

SIPOS. Isn’t it strange?

HORVATH. What is, Mr. Sipos?

SIPOS. That all week he was so restless and upset…and now all of
a sudden he’s quite calm. When I went in just now, he said “Good
morning, my friend.” “My friend,” imagine that.

I’m kind of surprised that everything could be so, well, so resolved.

HORVATH. I’m not sure I understand your meaning. Perhaps he

has his reasons.

SIPOS. Could be. Well the main thing is that now we can get back to
normal. I love normal.

Now tell me everything about yesterday.

HORVATH. Tell you everything about what? I didn’t see Mr. Ham-
merschmidt until this morning? I just told you.

SIPOS. No, not about that silly boy. I want to know what happened
at the Three Hussars Café yesterday. Tell me about the girl. Tell me
about your one true love.

HORVATH. Ahhhh. I didn’t go.

SIPOS. You didn’t go?

HORVATH. No, Mr. Sipos, I didn’t go.

SIPOS. Now that was stupid. I told you to go. Did you at least send
her a message?

HORVATH. How could I send her a message when I don’t know

who she is? I told you we made our date by mail. I wrote her a let­ter
yesterday afternoon.

SIPOS. How did you send it?

HORVATH. The usual way. To Box 1222, her box at the Post Office.
 Parfumerie 65

SIPOS. And what did you write?

HORVATH. I begged her pardon and explained that because of an

unpredictable circumstance we could not meet.

Oh, Sipos, had I only known that things would turn out as they did
and that I’d be back here this morning. You can’t imagine what’s
been going on inside of me since Saturday night. When I left here, I
was so confused that I just walked and walked all over town. I didn’t
get home till well after midnight.

(Short pause.)

Our appointment was for four in the afternoon at the café on Sun­
day. We agreed that we would each wear a single red carnation, sort
of a secret way to recognize each other. (Takes a wilted crushed flower
from his wallet:) Here’s mine.

SIPOS. Why didn’t you go without the carnation? You could have at
least seen what she looks like.

HORVATH. What for, Mr. Sipos, what for?

SIPOS. (Surprised:) What for? Well do you love her or don’t you?

HORVATH. Do I love her? Mr. Sipos, I believe I love her more than
I’ve ever loved anyone in my whole life.

SIPOS. Then I don’t understand you. It’s beyond me. You say you
love someone so much and then not to go and at least take a look at
her. Well I’m sorry but it makes no sense.

HORVATH. Try to understand, Sipos.

SIPOS. I’m sorry, but I don’t understand, it’s far too dramatic for
my taste. I was suspicious of all this letter writing in the first place.
Hmmm…writes letters to a girl for a year and a half, claims he’s
madly in love and then in the end doesn’t even take so much as a
look at her. All he does is write letters. Letters and letters and more
letters. Who do you think you are, Goethe? It’s too much thinking,
too much suffering. A decent working man puts an advertisement in
the personals, meets the girl, and then marries her…like I did.

HORVATH. Mr. Sipos, I didn’t have a job yesterday. I couldn’t act

irresponsibly. After all, I’m Box 520. She believes me to be a decent
66 E.P. Dowdall

and honorable gentleman, a man worth marrying. What could I have

told her?

SIPOS. Well Box 520, you could have told her you love her.

(Pause.)

It’s just a thought.

HORVATH. I suppose so.

(At this moment HAMMERSCHMIDT comes from the office

wearing his hat and coat. He walks purposefully across the shop
and turns as he reaches the door.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I’ll be gone for about an hour.

I won’t be long. Just some personal business to attend to.

(Exits.)

SIPOS. George, about this girl. If it’s going to be nothing but let-
ters, then I think you’d better write her a very nice letter right away.
Apologize again for not showing up and tell her honestly, exactly
what happened. And then please, PLEASE George, go and meet her.
Give all this foolish letter writing a rest. Tell her who you are and let
her tell you who she is, face to face and get on with it.

HORVATH. You’re absolutely right. That’s just what I’m going to

do. Just as you say. I’m going to tell her everything.

SIPOS. It’s the smartest thing you could do. And don’t delay.

(HORVATH hurries into the office… SIPOS goes behind the

counter. The phone rings. He answers.)

Good morning, Hammerschmidt’s. Oh good morning Mrs. Ham­

merschmidt. No, I’m sorry he’s not here. He just left a few minutes
ago. No, truly, he’s not here. Why should I say otherwise? I beg your
pardon? I’m only trying to tell you…hello? hello? (Hangs up.) She
hung up on me. (He thinks about it.) Something has happened here.

AMALIA. (Coming from street.)

SIPOS. Good morning, Miss Balash.

 Parfumerie 67

AMALIA. Good morning, Mr. Sipos.

(Goes toward office.)

SIPOS. And how are we this morning?

AMALIA. Fine thank you, Mr. Sipos.

(Goes into office.)

(Short pause. SIPOS begins humming a tune arranging bottles on

the shelf be­hind the counter.)

ARPAD. (Enters.) Good morning, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. (In high spirits:) Good morning, Mister Arpad. And how are
you this fine and magnificent morning?

ARPAD. Why, um, I’m fine thank you very much.

SIPOS. Any bicycle accidents this morning?

ARPAD. Not a one yet.

SIPOS. What? You mean to say that you haven’t run into one sin­gle,
solitary pedestrian? Arpad, you’re slipping.

ARPAD. I had three direct hits yesterday, does that count? Occa­
sionally my bike needs a rest.

(Goes off into office. Short pause. AMALIA enters from office
wear­ing a white coat.)

SIPOS. What’s new, Amalia dear?

AMALIA. (Quietly, sadly:) Nothing, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. Aren’t you surprised to see Mr. Horvath here?

AMALIA. Oh…I suspected that he’d be back. You said he would

be.

SIPOS. I can see you’re not very happy about it.

AMALIA. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.

68 E.P. Dowdall

(Short pause.)

SIPOS. So, what did you do yesterday? Anything interesting?

AMALIA. Me? Oh no.

SIPOS. Don’t you usually go to the movies on Sunday?

AMALIA. I didn’t go yesterday.

SIPOS. My dear you don’t look very well.

AMALIA. I don’t feel very well. I think I’m coming down with
something.

SIPOS. Can I get you anything? This is Hammerschmidt’s after all.

We have a wide variety of drugs and remedies at your disposal. An
aspirin perhaps.

AMALIA. No, thanks. (Coughs.) I think it’s a cold.

SIPOS. You should be more careful with your health. Here, let me
look at you. You have circles under your eyes. Give me your hand.
(Touches her forehead.) I think you’ve got a bit of a fever.

AMALIA. I don’t know.

SIPOS. Does your throat hurt?

AMALIA. A little.

SIPOS. Show me.

AMALIA. (Opens wide, SIPOS looks in.)

SIPOS. This way, toward the light. Say “aaah.”

AMALIA. Aaaah…

SIPOS. Yup, nice little red throat you’ve got there… (Holding her
wrist:) Your hands are hot too. You’re definitely running a tem­
perature. Wait, let me get a thermometer. Why did you even go
out?

(Takes a new thermometer from under the counter and unwraps

it carefully.)
 Parfumerie 69

AMALIA. Don’t bother, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. …And on a day like this. That was just silly. (Holding ther­
mometer to her mouth:) Open, please, and sit down here.

AMALIA. (She gives in and plops down in one of the seats in front of the
counter.) Yes, Dr. Sipos.

SIPOS. (Looks at his watch.) We’ll leave it in for one minute. And
you’ve got chills. I’ll get your coat…

AMALIA. (Thermometer in mouth:) Thank you Dr. Sipos.

(SIPOS goes into office. Short pause. AMALIA perches there sad­
ly, forlorn like a sparrow on a wire.)

SIPOS. (Enters with coat:) Here we are.

AMALIA. (Thermometer still in her mouth:) Thank you, just over my

shoulders, please.

SIPOS. (Covering her:) There… (Looks at his watch.) OK, that should
do it.

AMALIA. How high is it?

SIPOS. Enough…you have a temperature and you’re going home

like a good girl.

AMALIA. But I can’t, Mr. Sipos. I have to wait for Mr. Hammer­
schmidt to finish with this morning’s delivery orders. And then
there are parcels that have to be wrapped for mailing. Arpad HAS
to take them to the Post Office first thing if we expect them to get
delivered.

SIPOS. Can’t I do it? I’m sure that you could give me instructions.

AMALIA. Would you? Oh, could you? I don’t want to impose. It’s
just that I feel so…

SIPOS. Yes, of course. Where are the orders? Show me.

AMALIA. They’re on Mr. Hammerschmidt’s desk, are you sure?

SIPOS. Don’t worry about it.

70 E.P. Dowdall

AMALIA. Arpad could help you.

SIPOS. Good, good…

(Goes toward office.)

AMALIA. Please don’t forget to put a calendar and a sample of

shampoo into each package.

SIPOS. No cologne?

AMALIA. No, no. Not in the packages. Mr. Hammerschmidt wants

us to give those away in the shop.

SIPOS. (Exits to office.)

(Silence. And now AMALIA begins to weep. Outside the window

the snow is falling again.)

HORVATH. (Coming from the office, goes behind the counter.) Mr. Si­pos
tells me you’re not feeling well.

AMALIA. (Neither looks at him nor answers.)

HORVATH. If you’re sick there’s really no point in staying here.

Why don’t you go home? (Getting no answer:) Alright, it’s none of my
business. (Still no answer.) But if someone has a cold and is run­ning
a fever, the usual recommended treatment is that they should go
home and go to bed.

AMALIA. Mr. Horvath. I haven’t said a word to you. Why are you
speaking to me?

HORVATH. Um, you’re in the room, I’m in the room. Communi­

cation is something that generally ensues.

AMALIA. It’s really not necessary.

HORVATH. Look, Miss Balash, first, I meant no harm by suggest­ing

that you go home. It was just a matter of concern.

AMALIA. Thank you. I’ll pass on the charity if it’s all the same to
you.

HORVATH. Well then, secondly, there are other employees here

who might easily catch your cold. I’m not speaking of myself of
 Parfumerie 71

course because actually, I think I have a bit of a cold too (Clears his
throat), but you might want to consider your fellow workers.

AMALIA. Oh, so it’s alright for you to contaminate the shop with
your germs but I should go home.

HORVATH. If I could, I would gladly go home. It just so happens

that I can’t leave right now. But we could manage without you for a
day or two if you’re really sick.

AMALIA. (Very seriously:) Really sick? Tell me honestly, Mr. Hor-

vath, why do you hate me so?

HORVATH. (A little confused:) I don’t hate you, Miss Balash.

AMALIA. Yes, Mr. Horvath, you do. And I ask you now in all sin­
cerity, I won’t get insulted, I promise, no matter what you say. But
tell me honestly, why do you hate me so? Am I really such a horri­ble
person?

HORVATH. I’ve never said that Miss Balash.

AMALIA. Or am I so stupid or ugly that you can’t bear to be in the

same place with me? Please tell me, I just want to know.

HORVATH. I never once said that you were ugly, Miss Balash. In
fact if you ask Mr. Sipos, he will confirm that many times I have com-
mented to him on just how pretty you are. Sipos is my witness. In
spite of everything, I’ve always thought you very pretty.

AMALIA. In spite of the fact that you hate me.

HORVATH. No, in spite of the fact that you always seem to do your
best to show how much you dislike ME.

(After a moment’s pause.)

I’ve even told the others that I wished they could be as hard a worker
as you.

AMALIA. And yet just a minute ago you said that I’m not needed
around here.

HORVATH. That was not my meaning. And don’t start turning

things around. I only said that I cannot be spared just now but that
72 E.P. Dowdall

we could manage without you for a few days. Not an insult, con­cern.

AMALIA. Well you needn’t be so concerned where other people’s

salaries are at stake. It’s not my fault that I have a cold.

HORVATH. I know that.

AMALIA. And that AMAAA-lia BAAA-lash.

HORVATH. Now that doesn’t count. I’ll admit I did that to make
you mad. Childish, yes, but nothing to do with your work.

AMALIA. And the other night when you accused me of stabbing

you in the back, what do you call that?

HORVATH. A mistake.

AMALIA. And the Mona Lisa?

HORVATH. The Mona Lisa? OK, now there I draw the line. You do
not know how to fill a tube of hand cream.

AMALIA. I certainly do.

HORVATH. No, I’m sorry you do not. We’ve been through this.
The cream is supposed to come out of the top. Your tubes, the cream
comes out the bottom. I’m sorry, but what more can I say?

AMALIA. Say nothing more. Your actions are abundantly clear. You
hate me and that’s all there is to it. You’ve hated me since the day
I arrived and every day for the last two years that I have worked
here.

HORVATH. I don’t hate you. Although I’m beginning to gain some

understanding of what that might be like.

AMALIA. Yes you do hate me. Proof, you’ve never said a single nice
word to my face.

HORVATH. It’s not true. Didn’t I just tell you how I complimented
you? Not directly to your face, but complimented just the same.

AMALIA. Exactly. Not to my face. And what is so revolting about

my face that you couldn’t compliment me to, to…it?

HORVATH. This is a ridiculous conversation. Miss Balash, you’re

 Parfumerie 73

only looking at one side, your own. I think it must be the fever. You
talk as if I had every reason to admire you. You forget how you acted
toward me when you first came to work for us. You forget how you
talked about me to the others and with no reservation I must say, to
MY face. But when you first came here, do you know that I tried to
make you feel at home.

AMALIA. What a liar!

HORVATH. And then you started in making fun of me. And there
wasn’t a day that you didn’t make some remark. You started with
my hair. Why didn’t I pay more attention to my grooming. In my
case, a little vanity wouldn’t hurt, you said. You commented on the
condition of my shoes, my shirts, my suits. You even made fun of
my feet!

AMALIA. I beg your pardon, Mr. Horvath, I only made remarks

about your feet once and it was just in jest.

HORVATH. There’s not much I can do about my feet. Any more

than you can do anything about your, I don’t know, your…nose.

AMALIA. What’s wrong with my nose?

HORVATH. Oh, probably nothing a different gene pool wouldn’t

cure.

AMALIA. You are the most insulting, insufferable human being and
I use the term “human being” loosely, that I have ever met.

HORVATH. Perhaps that it’s just that I’m not the kind of person
you would find attractive. I imagine that you’d prefer someone like
Mr. Kadar. He’s such a fine dresser, always turned out well with his
silk shirts, and brilliantined hair. Well at least I don’t go about prey-
ing on naïve little girls for money and who knows what other sorts
of favors, if you understand my meaning.

AMALIA. Why are you doing this?

HORVATH. You asked for it. You have no heart, Miss Balash. You’re
as cold and unpleasant as a winter’s day. You have never loved any-
one and no one will ever love you. I doubt that you even understand
the meaning of the word, or what it means to actually love someone.
I don’t know how then you could expect others to even like you.
Certainly not me.
74 E.P. Dowdall

AMALIA. So you think, Mr. Horvath that I’m as cold as a winter’s

day, do you?

HORVATH. You compelled me to say it.

AMALIA. And I’m incapable of love, am I?

HORVATH. Exactly. You couldn’t love anything or anybody. You

wouldn’t know how. You’ll just fade away, an old maid, unloving
and unloved.

AMALIA. Unloved you say. Well, you are very much mistaken, Mr.
Horvath.

HORVATH. I don’t think so.

AMALIA. Ah, but you are. Because I love someone so deeply that I
almost died for him yesterday. And I’ve never even met him. And
yet I love him with all my heart. I’ve loved him every minute that
I’ve know him. But it’s so easy to love him, because he’s a real man,
a gentleman, he’s kind and has a heart and a soul.

HORVATH. Well isn’t that wonderful for you. Tell me is he very

rich?

AMALIA. Compared to you Mr. Horvath, he’s a millionaire. Rich

in wisdom, rich in gentleness and rich in his love for me. (Excitedly:)
He wrote his love to me, the kind of love that is written only once
in a lifetime. He wrote me that he loves me more than Romeo loved
Juliet, more than Troilus loved Cressida, more than Abelard loved
Heloise. And I have returned his love in kind. What? Don’t you be­
lieve me, Mr. Horvath? Shall I show you some of his letters so you
can see how wrong you are? (She pulls out some letters.) Look, here.
You see? Look at these. Look at them all. Box 1222, that’s me! Do
you still think I am incapable of love? Do you still think it’s impos­
sible that I could love someone this much and have them love me in
return, equally, passionately?

(Short pause.)

I never fully realized how thoughtless and unkind you truly are, Mr.
Horvath. I detest you.

(Exits to office.)
 Parfumerie 75

HORVATH. (Long pause. HORVATH leans against the counter, strick­

en. He wipes the cold sweat from his forehead.)

SIPOS. (Enters from office.) Horvath, what on earth did you do to that
girl again?

HORVATH. (Still speechless, just stares into space.)

SIPOS. What’s the matter with you? Have you no heart?

HORVATH. Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. She comes in here sick as a dog and you pick a fight with
her.

HORVATH. Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. It isn’t nice. And I must say, I never would have thought it
of you.

HORVATH. Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. What, what is it?

HORVATH. Do you know who I’ve been corresponding with for a

year and a half?

SIPOS. I don’t know. What has that got to do with anything?

HORVATH. It’s Miss Balash.

SIPOS. (Drops into one of the chairs in front of the counter.) What?

HORVATH. Miss AMAA-lia BAAA-lash. (He says it like he’s hearing

himself and saying it that way for the last time.)

SIPOS. You’re joking.

HORVATH. No, I’m not. From the entire population of Hungary, of

the world, I’ve picked Amalia Balash to write my love letters to.

SIPOS. Oh, stop this foolishness. It’s not funny.

HORVATH. I agree. It’s not funny, it’s awful.

SIPOS. And I’ve got a headache.

76 E.P. Dowdall

MISS RITTER. (Enters from street.) Good morning.

SIPOS & HORVATH. Good morning.

MISS RITTER. (Exits to stockroom.)

SIPOS. I don’t know what to say. When did you discover this?

HORVATH. About one minute ago.

SIPOS. But how is it possible? How do you know it’s true? What
happened?

HORVATH. We had a fight.

SIPOS. So what else is new. And?

HORVATH. One word led to another.

SIPOS. And?

HORVATH. She made me really angry.

SIPOS. And?

HORVATH. I really hurt her this time.

SIPOS. (Gasps) You hit her?

HORVATH. No, of course not. Though the thought may have

crossed my mind.

SIPOS. What did you say to her?

HORVATH. I told her that she was a cold and unloving person, as
cold as a winter’s day. I told her that she had no love to give and that
certainly no one would ever give their love to her.

SIPOS. And how did she react, poor girl?

HORVATH. She became defiant. She had a love after all she told
me. A secret love. And she threw him right in my face.

SIPOS. Who?

HORVATH. Me.
 Parfumerie 77

SIPOS. What do you mean, “me”?

HORVATH. It was me. I was the secret love. She said she had the
letters.

SIPOS. Did she show them to you?

HORVATH. She did better than that, she quoted from them.

SIPOS. Like what for instance?

HORVATH. For instance that, I loved her more than Romeo loved
Juliet.

SIPOS. Anyone could have written that.

HORVATH. More than Troilus loved Cressida.

SIPOS. OK, that a bit more unusual.

HORVATH. …Like Abelard loved Heloise.

SIPOS. Did you write that too?

HORVATH. Yes.

SIPOS. All in the same letter?

HORVATH. Yes.

SIPOS. Oh, my God.

MISS MOLNAR. (Enters from street.) Good morning…

SIPOS & HORVATH. Good morning.

MISS MOLNAR. (Exits to stockroom.)

SIPOS. And what did she say?

HORVATH. Who?

SIPOS. (Impatiently:) Who? Amalia of course. What did she say when
you told her?

HORVATH. I didn’t tell her.

78 E.P. Dowdall

SIPOS. And why not?

HORVATH. How could I tell her? She hates me!

SIPOS. So what happens now? You just keep writing letters?

HORVATH. I don’t know Sipos. All I know is that I can never tell
Miss Balash that she loves me.

SIPOS. She loves you?

HORVATH. Of course she loves me. Haven’t you been listening.

SIPOS. Yes, but I’m afraid I don’t understand a bit of it. All I know
is that if I stand here another minute talking to you, the next stop for
me is going to be the booby-hatch.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Enters from street.) Hello, I’m back.

HORVATH. Hello, sir.

SIPOS. Hello, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Anybody looking for me?

HORVATH. No one, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Exits to office.)

SIPOS. (Looking after him:) He looks nervous again.

MISS MOLNAR. (Comes from stockroom, dressed in white coat. AR­

PAD follows.) Step on it, Arpad or you’ll be late.

ARPAD. (Bundles piled high in his arms.) How can I hurry with so
many packages? I’ll be lucky if I don’t break my neck.

MISS MOLNAR. You won’t. It’s not as bad as all that.

ARPAD. Oh no? You try riding a bike to the Post Office with your
arms full of packages.

MISS MOLNAR. Oh, stop your complaining and get going.

ARPAD. Complaining? I’m not complaining. I just have to ride my

bike knee deep in slush, balancing a dozen packages, and oh by the
 Parfumerie 79

way, you want me to hurry. I need the postage.

MISS MOLNAR. How much?

ARPAD. I don’t know how much. Give me ten and if there’s change
I’ll bring it back.

MISS MOLNAR. Is Mr. Hammerschmidt in?

SIPOS. He’s in the office.

MISS MOLNAR. (Opening office door:) Good morning, Mr. Ham­

merschmidt, may I have the register key, please.

(Goes in.)

AMALIA. (Coming from stockroom:) Arpad…

ARPAD. Yes?

AMALIA. (Holding a package:) You forgot this.

ARPAD. (Grumbling:) All this junk…and then they’re surprised

when half of it gets there broken.

SIPOS. What are you grumbling about?

ARPAD. I think there’s a law against riding a bike with so many

packages.

(Puts parcels on counter and returns to stockroom.)

(MISS MOLNAR comes from office and goes to the cash desk.)

SIPOS. Amalia dear, tell Mr. Hammerschmidt that you are going
home.

AMALIA. Oh no. I’m feeling much better now, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. No you’re not. You shouldn’t fool around with a cold. You’re
running a temperature and it would be best that you go home and
go to bed.

(At this moment both the office and street doors open at once. KA-
DAR steps in from the street and HAMMERSCHMIDT from the
office. HAMMERSCHMIDT is wearing his white coat.)
80 E.P. Dowdall

KADAR. (Broadly:) Good morning.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Very formally:) Good morning.

KADAR. Sorry to be late, sir.

(Exits to stockroom.)

(HAMMERSCHMIDT walks to the center of shop, dazed, not

knowing what to do.)

SIPOS. Shall we dress the other window now, sir?

(HAMMERSCHMIDT, still at center of shop, not hearing

that he’s been spoken to. Wipes his forehead with the palm of his
hand.)

SIPOS. Mr. Hammerschmidt…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What do you want?

SIPOS. Shall we decorate the other window now, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What? What other window? What do you

want from me?

(KADAR enters from stockroom wearing white coat.)

SIPOS. The other window, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What’s the matter with it. (Shouting:) What

are you talking about? What’s the matter with the window?

SIPOS. Saturday night you said that we’d do the other window to-
day.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Shouting loudly:) I don’t understand you.

Does anyone understand him? Why don’t you speak plainly. What
is it you want with the window?

SIPOS. To decorate it sir, this one, because we only did that one on
Saturday.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Shouting:) Well thank goodness you no­ticed.

So dress that one too then. Why must you ask me about every single
little thing. Can’t you do anything for yourself, you…you idiot.
 Parfumerie 81

SIPOS. (Hurt:) Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Shouting:) Well, what are you waiting for?

Go. Do it.

(Silence and then someone comes from the street.)

A LADY. Good morning.

CHORUS. Good morning, madam.

KADAR. May I help you?

A LADY. Do you carry Aphrodite Dry Skin Cream?

KADAR. We most certainly do, madam.

A LADY. How much is it?

KADAR. We have two sizes, priced two-thirty and three-twenty.

LADY. How much is in the two-thirty?

KADAR. Two and a half ounces, madam.

LADY. Alright, I’ll take that one.

KADAR. (Starting to wrap the jar:) Anything else, madam?

LADY. No, that’s all, thank you.

KADAR. (Handing her package:) And your bill, madam. Thank you
very much.

LADY. (Pays cashier and leaves.) Good day.

CHORUS. Hammerschmidt’s thanks you

We hope to see you soon

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Mr. Kadar.

KADAR. Yes, Mr. Hammerschmidt?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Why did you recommend the small jar?

KADAR. I didn’t sir.

82 E.P. Dowdall

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Are you calling me a liar? You forced the

customer to buy the small jar.

KADAR. I didn’t force her, sir. She asked for the small jar.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Shouting louder and louder:) She asked for

Skin Cream. You pushed the small jar.

KADAR. That’s not true, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Starts toward him) Are you calling me a liar

again?

KADAR. That’s not how it happened.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Don’t argue with me.

KADAR. I’m not arguing.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Then just, shut up.

KADAR. I beg your pardon, but…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. You? You beg MY pardon?

KADAR. If you’re so upset now, sir, then perhaps…

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Then perhaps what?…what? I’ll tell you

what. I’ll hit you so hard that you’ll fly into the street without your
feet ever touching the ground. You nobody, you leech. Get out of
my shop.

KADAR. Leech? I’m just trying to do my job. I’m just trying to

help.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Like you’ve been helping with my wife!

(Runs behind the counter and KADAR quickly runs out at the
other end. HAMMERSCHMIDT grabs a large bottle from the
back shelf and throws it towards KADAR with all his might.
KADAR ducks and the bottle crashes into one of the showcases.
HAMMER­SCHMIDT then picks up ARPAD’s packages from
the counter and throws those.)

Get out you low-life. Get out of my sight. Get out of here before I
kill you.
 Parfumerie 83

(HAMMERSCHMIDT goes for KADAR.)

(HORVATH, who has been standing nearest to him, grabs hold of

him and prevents him from moving forward.)

(KADAR flees into the stockroom.)

(MISS RITTER runs after him.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Grabs his chest, and begins to collapse.) Oh,

such a tightness. I can’t breathe.

HORVATH. (Catches his fall.) Come with me, sit down in your office
a moment.

(Opens the office door. Hands him off to SIPOS who ushers him in.
As he is exiting he calls out to HORVATH.)

SIPOS. Bring me some rubbing alcohol.

HORVATH. Arpad.

ARPAD. Yes?

HORVATH. Go get the doctor. And tell him to hurry. I think Mr.
Hammerschmidt is having a heart attack.

ARPAD. Yes.

(He grabs his bicycle from just inside the stockroom hallway and
then rushes out the door.)

HORVATH. Miss Balash.

AMALIA. (She is behind the counter.) Yes?

HORVATH. Get me some rubbing alcohol from the shelf.

(AMALIA she searches nervously on the shelves.)

HORVATH. C’mon, it’s on the left, the left.

AMALIA. Oh yes. I see it.

(She knocks down a bottle.)

HORVATH. What are you doing? What are you doing?

84 E.P. Dowdall

AMALIA. (She stumbles.) Oh dear.

HORVATH. (Rushes to her side.) What’s the matter?

AMALIA. I’m just so dizzy…

HORVATH. It’s the fever. I told you to go home.

AMALIA. No, I’ll be alright.

(She faints. He catches her.)

HORVATH. Miss Molnar, come help me, quickly.

(MISS MOLNAR comes to help)

SIPOS. (Shouting from the office door:) Where’s that alcohol?

(Rushes back in.)

HORVATH. (Not knowing who to help first:) Yes, yes. Miss Molnar,
here take this to Mr. Sipos.

(MISS MOLNAR hurries into office with bottle of alcohol.)

HORVATH. Are you alright, Amalia?

AMALIA. Yes, it was just a moment.

(KADAR comes from stockroom wearing his hat and coat. Obvi­
ously trying to slip out in the confusion.)

HORVATH. I’ll get you a drink of water. (Turns and finds himself face
to face with KADAR.) You. Why are you still here?

KADAR. What did you say?

HORVATH. I said I’m amazed that you’re still here. You’re a dis-
grace.

KADAR. And you’d better just shut your mouth before I shut it for
you.

(HORVATH grabs him and in the next moment they are both
roll­ing on the floor.)
 Parfumerie 85

AMALIA. (Yelling:) Stop, stop. Mr. Sipos, Betty get out here.

HORVATH. (Gains control of the situation and stands KADAR on his

feet holding him from the back.) Now get out.

(HORVATH releases him pushing him toward the door.)

KADAR. (Dusts himself off and straightens himself up.) You’ll regret
this Mr. Horvath.

(He walks towards the front door and throws it open with a flour­
ish.)

HORVATH. My only regret is that I didn’t have the opportunity to

do this sooner.

(He follows KADAR to the door and slams it behind him.)

SIPOS. (From office door:) George, come in, he’s asking for you…

HORVATH. I’m coming.

(Hurries into office. SIPOS remains behind.)

SIPOS. What was all the noise?

AMALIA. Mr. Horvath threw Mr. Kadar out.

SIPOS. Good. He had it coming.

ARPAD. (Coming from the street. His clothes are in disarray and muddy
from head to foot. The front wheel of his bike is a twisted wreck.) The doc-
tor’s on his way.

SIPOS. What happened to you?

ARPAD. I just accidentally ran somebody down.

SIPOS. Really? Somebody we know?

ARPAD. He said his name was Steven. Steven Kadar!

SIPOS. Good boy!

End of Act II
86
 ACT III

Scene 1

(Two weeks later. Early morning of the 24th of December. The

shop is still closed. Outside the street is covered with newly fallen
snow. HORVATH and ARPAD are seen through the window.
They unlock the shop door and enter. ARPAD is wearing a flashy,
new suit, overcoat and derby. He has been promoted to clerk.)

HORVATH. (Switches on the lights. First the windows, then the shop.)
Light the heater, Arpad.

ARPAD. (Goes behind counter and lights heater.) It’s a quarter to eight
and Fritz isn’t here yet. That boy needs some discipline.

HORVATH. I don’t remember you being terribly punctual.

ARPAD. That’s different, when I was late in the morning it was al­
ways because I was either helping at home or running the Ham­
merschmidts’ personal errands. During all the four years I’ve been
here, I wasn’t late as much as this new boy has been in two weeks.
But it’s your fault, you’re too easy with him. You leave it to me, I’ll
teach him…

(HORVATH goes into stockroom and FRITZ, the new errand

boy, enters from the street.)

FRITZ. Good morning, Mr. Novack…

ARPAD. You’re late again. What do you think this is, a movie house?
Late to start and come and go as you please?

FRITZ. It isn’t eight yet, Mr. Novack.

ARPAD. What do you mean, it isn’t eight yet? Did I or did I not
tell you to arrive here at 7:30 each morning in anticipation of my
arrival.

FRITZ. (Timidly:) You did, Mr. Novack.

ARPAD. Well then, when I said seven-thirty, I meant seven-thirty.

When I was learning this business, I got here at six every morning.
(Shaking his head:) Fritz, Fritz…you’ll have to improve because at this
rate you’re not going to last very long.

87
88 E.P. Dowdall

FRITZ. I’m sorry, Mr. Novack.

ARPAD. Well alright. Now go to the Café Ferdinand and get four
cheese buns. Do you have money?

FRITZ. Yessir.

ARPAD. Including now, how much do I owe you?

FRITZ. Five coffees and four cheese buns. Oh, and then you had that
one knockwurst.

ARPAD. Knockwurst? Are you sure?

FRITZ. Yes Mr. Novack. Last week when I was eating my knock­
wursts at lunchtime, you asked me to give you one.

ARPAD. How many did you have for lunch?

FRITZ. Four.

ARPAD. Knockwurst. Hmmmm, I don’t remember it. I’m not sure

that I’ve ever eaten a knockwurst in my whole life. Now Fritz, don’t
try to cheat me.

FRITZ. But Mr. Novack, you don’t think I’d try to cheat you and for
a knockwurst?

ARPAD. You know now that I come to think of it, if you had four
knockwursts for lunch and I joined you in eating one, wasn’t that
just the act of a gracious host? And now you want to charge me mon-
ey for what I assumed was a kindness. (Shakes his head and makes the
“tsk, tsk” sound.)

FRITZ. Ohhhh, forget it.

ARPAD. No, now I don’t want to forget it. I am hurt, but I want you
to write it up with the rest all the same. It’s alright; I can afford to
buy your knockwurst. I’ll just have to remember where things stand
the next time. But hurry now with that coffee. We have to clean up
the back room and the office this morning and I have much work for
you to do.

FRITZ. Yes, Mr. Novack.

 Parfumerie 89

(Hurries off into the street.)

(HORVATH comes from stockroom wearing white coat.)

ARPAD. Mr. Horvath.

HORVATH. Yes?

ARPAD. I’d like to ask you something.

HORVATH. What?

ARPAD. Are you going to visit, Mr. Hammerschmidt at the hospi­tal

tonight?

HORVATH. Of course. Haven’t I been going every night?

ARPAD. Do you think I could go with you?

HORVATH. Well, I don’t know. He expressly told me that he’d

rather not have any visitors.

ARPAD. (Quietly:) Mr. Horvath, I haven’t seen Mr. Hammer­schmidt

in two weeks. Maybe he needs me for something and just hasn’t
thought of it yet. Please take me tonight.

HORVATH. Alright. But not a word about it to the others.

ARPAD. (Elated:) Of course not…thank you.

(Exits stockroom.)

SIPOS. (Enters from street.) Good morning, Horvath.

HORVATH. Good morning, Mr. Sipos.

SIPOS. (Shaking snow from his hat) We’re going to have a nice white
Christmas after all.

HORVATH. Looks like it. It snowed all night.

SIPOS. Heaven help us when it all starts melting again. We’ll be

canoeing up and down Vaci Street. That’s the trouble with snow. In
the end it has to melt.

(Exits to stockroom.)
90 E.P. Dowdall

FRITZ. (Enters from the street with the coffee and cheese buns.) Good
morning.

HORVATH. Good morning, Fritz. Why are you so late?

FRITZ. (Frightened:) I was already here sir, but Mr. Novack sent me
out for his breakfast.

(Exits to stockroom.)

(HORVATH dusts the back shelves. SIPOS returns from stock­

room wearing white coat.)

SIPOS. Horvath.

HORVATH. Yes, Mr. Sipos?

SIPOS. I went to see the old man.

HORVATH. When?

SIPOS. Last night, after closing.

HORVATH. He said he didn’t want visitors. You went anyway?

SIPOS. I know what he said. But it didn’t seem right not to go. He
was gracious. I think he was pleased to see me. I hope so. He looked
awfully tired.

HORVATH. Well, it’s been slow. He’s not a young man anymore.
But I think he’s actually been doing much better. The doctors say he
should make a full recovery. They hope to release him soon.

SIPOS. Do you know who else was there?

HORVATH. Who?

SIPOS. Mrs. Hammerschmidt

HORVATH. (After a moment’s pause:) I know. She’s been there quite

a bit.

SIPOS. She was coming in just as I was going. His wife and the two
children. They brought a lot of flowers.
 Parfumerie 91

(Short pause.)

They seemed to be talking.

HORVATH. Yes. She’s been there every day since it happened. I

think she knows she did him a terrible wrong.

SIPOS. (Short pause.) You know, I didn’t only go over because of my

fondness for Mr. Hammerschmidt, and I am fond of the old man,
but I felt I had to. I’ve worried myself sick over this whole mess…
George…

HORVATH. Yes?

SIPOS. May I be totally honest with you?

HORVATH. Of course.

SIPOS. And if I tell you something, will you promise not to ever tell
a living soul about it?

HORVATH. I promise, Sipos. What is it?

SIPOS. Even if someday we should have a fight and not be speak­ing

to each other?

HORVATH. Why would we have a fight, Sipos?

SIPOS. Oh, one never knows about these things. Do you promise?

HORVATH. Yes, I promise.

SIPOS. So help you God?

HORVATH. Mr. Sipos, if you don’t feel you can trust me, perhaps it
would be better if you didn’t tell me at all.

SIPOS. But I have to tell you. I haven’t slept in two weeks, and there’s
no one, no one, I can tell who will understand. Please don’t be upset
with me for being this way. I’m trusting you with my life.

HORVATH. (Agitated:) My God Sipos, just tell me what happened.

SIPOS. (Looks around, into stockroom and office and then returns to the
counter and quietly speaks…) George…I’m the one who wrote Mr.
Ham­merschmidt the anonymous letter.
92 E.P. Dowdall

HORVATH. You?

SIPOS. I have a wife and three children. You have to understand

George, I was afraid.

HORVATH. Afraid of what?

SIPOS. For a year now there’s been talk that someone will have to be
laid off. And who else could that mean but me. I’m the oldest, not a
flashy young salesman, just old Sipos who’s been here forever.

And then I thought about that scoundrel, Kadar and I thought “why
me?” Why should this gigolo, this conniver, this thief be re­warded
with keeping his job when I have been so loyal all these years. I need
my job. I have a family, and a family requires food and rent and
clothes and shoes and a million other expenses. Not just pocket mon-
ey for drinks and hair creme. I’ve paid my dues. It’s my life at stake
and the lives of people who depend upon me for their very survival.
Yes, I wrote that letter. And I don’t care that I did. Right or wrong,
what else could I do? I’m glad I wrote it.

HORVATH. There really isn’t any question of right or wrong Sipos.

You did the right thing.

SIPOS. Really? I just couldn’t take it any longer knowing what that
miserable excuse for a human being was doing behind the old man’s
back.

HORVATH. But, perhaps you should have told him instead of writ-
ing him an anonymous letter.

SIPOS. Are you crazy? How do you tell a man a thing like that? He
would never have believed it. He would have fired me right on the
spot.

HORVATH. Why would he fire you for telling him the truth?

SIPOS. Some men will forgive their wives almost anything they’ve
done, but don’t dare to tell them of it. If it isn’t said, then in a way,
it’s never actually real, they’ve never actually been betrayed. It’s
crazy, I know, but for some men, the telling of the truth is far worse
than the truth itself.

HORVATH. How did you find out?

 Parfumerie 93

SIPOS. I suspected it for a long time. Every time Mrs. Hammer­

schmidt came in here, she was quite nice to all of us, except Kadar. It
was just strange. She was oddly distant with him, quite out of char-
acter. And let’s be honest, no matter how much I might hate that
man you have to admit he was a handsome fellow and always very
popular with the ladies. I couldn’t understand why she be­haved this
way toward him, and him alone. It just didn’t make sense. So I start-
ed watching. I had a little time in the afternoons af­ter work before I
was expected at home for supper. So I started watching Mr. Kadar’s
comings and goings. It became sort of a hobby for me. At first it was
difficult trying to keep up with him running all about the neighbor-
hood. Then one day I noticed that the trolley company had recently
finished building a little waiting room right across the street from
Kadar’s apartment. So I began to simply go there every afternoon
and sit. I would read my paper, it was very restful. And from behind
the paper I could easily watch who went in and out of the apart-
ment. And then one Friday evening, I saw Mrs. Hammerschmidt
go in. And the following Friday she came again. Always on Friday,
when the old man was playing cards at the club. I wrote the letter on
my brother-in-law’s type­writer. (Suddenly concerned about saying too
much:) Horvath, you swore to me in God’s name.

HORVATH. Sipos, you don’t think for one minute that I’d tell this
to a soul?

SIPOS. No, of course not. I trust you, that’s why I’m telling you. I
feel much better now. It’s been bothering me so. I never thought it
would affect Mr. Hammerschmidt the way it did. I had no idea he
would take it so hard. That it would have been such a shock to him.
And then when he threw you out, I couldn’t sleep at all.

HORVATH. He thought it was me, you know.

SIPOS. I know. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t forgive myself for having

written merely the words “one of your employees” instead of com-
ing right out and saying who it was. I guess in a way though, it was
good he only suspected you.

HORVATH. What are you talking about? How could that ever be a
good thing?

SIPOS. Well, he could have thought it was me! And then where
would I have been? Out on the street no doubt, and no where else
to go.
94 E.P. Dowdall

HORVATH. Well stop your worrying, Kadar is out of our lives.

SIPOS. Oh sure, and Arpad is in. Again I’m at the top of the list
of “most eligible for unemployment.” Unless of course, Mrs. Ham­
merschmidt should take a liking to him.

HORVATH. Sipos, stop!

AMALIA. (Enters from street.) Good morning…

HORVATH. Good morning, Miss Balash.

AMALIA. Good morning Mr. Horvath.

SIPOS. Good morning, Amalia dear.

AMALIA. Good morning Mr. Sipos.

AMALIA. (To HORVATH:) How is Mr. Hammerschmidt doing?

HORVATH. Much better. I think he should be back on his feet soon

after the holidays. He sends you his best regards.

AMALIA. Tell him, thank you very much.

(Exits to stockroom.)

SIPOS. Horvath?

HORVATH. Yes?

SIPOS. It’s the 24th of December.

HORVATH. I know.

SIPOS. It’s Christmas Eve, George. You know what that means.

HORVATH. Yes, I know.

SIPOS. You told me that Christmas Eve, you’d tell her. No matter
what.

HORVATH. I did say that, didn’t I?

SIPOS. Are you going to tell her tonight?

 Parfumerie 95

HORVATH. (Softly:) No, Mr. Sipos, I’m not.

SIPOS. Did you change your mind again?

HORVATH. I can’t tell Miss Balash that I’m Box 520.

SIPOS. And why not?

HORVATH. Because it’s ridiculous.

SIPOS. What’s ridiculous?

HORVATH. That Miss Balash could be in love with me. It’s just, it’s
just…it just doesn’t make any sense.

SIPOS. (Annoyed:) So you’re going to stand her up again?

HORVATH. Sipos, consider what the consequences might be if I

tell her that for a year and a half, it’s been me all the time? It’s hu­
miliating. It’s too much to bear. I can’t do it to her.

SIPOS. You’re crazy.

HORVATH. Mr. Sipos, you cannot conceive the depth of her love.
She loves this ideal I’ve created so deeply and so completely, and at
the same time she flat out hates the real me.

SIPOS. She doesn’t hate you. In fact I’ve noticed of late that you’ve
become very good friends.

HORVATH. That’s just on the surface. In her subconscious, she still

hates me.

SIPOS. Why George?

HORVATH. Why not? After all the things I’ve said to her, done to
her right here in this shop for two whole years?

SIPOS. You’re an idiot. Are you forgetting that you’ve been writing
to her, also for two whole years?

HORVATH. No, it’s impossible. How can I reconcile the two at

this late stage? She would never accept I was actually sincere. Why
should she? Could I expect her to believe that while I was so miser­
able to her here every single day, day after day, month after month,
96 E.P. Dowdall

that at the same time I loved her more than anyone else in this whole
world? And believe me, that’s how it is. I almost can’t believe it myself.

SIPOS. Oh George, I’m so tired of this. Why don’t you just let her
go then? Do you know how irresponsible it is, how inconsiderate of
you to lead her on this way? And then to have gotten her hopes up
again by accepting an invitation to meet tonight. On Christmas Eve
George. You know if you really feel this way about the hopelessness
of the situation, then why on Earth have you continued writing her
letters?

HORVATH. …I love her.

SIPOS. I know you do. But if you really do, then there’s no sense
going on this way.

HORVATH. All right then. Tonight I’ll write her for the last time. I’ll
say goodbye and tell her I’m going to kill myself.

SIPOS. What? Have you lost your mind entirely?

HORVATH. Well, I’d only write that in the letter.

SIPOS. And this helps how? Don’t you dare write a thing like that.
You’ll scare her to death. You have to just think up a way to make
her hate you.

HORVATH. How would I do that?

SIPOS. Well, why don’t you write to her the same way you used to
talk to her here in the shop.

HORVATH. I can’t do that.

SIPOS. He can’t do it. He can abuse her in person, but not in a let-
ter.

(Phone rings.)

George, pick it up.

HORVATH. (Picks up the phone.) Hello? Hammerschmidt’s.

Good morning, sir. Yes, it’s me, George. Tonight? Really? Did the
doctor say it was alright? This evening? But that’s wonderful. Yes,
 Parfumerie 97

of course. Everyone will want to stay. Yes, sir. Good-bye, sir… (Puts
down the phone.) It was Mr. Hammerschmidt. They’re releasing him
from the hospital. He wants to come here.

SIPOS. Really?

HORVATH. So he says. Tonight, at closing time.

(AMALIA and ARPAD come from stockroom wearing white

coats. Arpad’s is much too big for him.)

SIPOS. (Very happy:) Amalia, Mr. Hammerschmidt is coming tonight.

AMALIA. When?

HORVATH. At eight. He just phoned. He called himself and said

for all of us to wait for him after closing if we would.

ARPAD. (Shouting:) Fritz. Fritz.

SIPOS. What on earth are you yelling for?

ARPAD. (Shouting:) Fritz. Fritz. Where the devil is that boy?

FRITZ. (Coming from stockroom:) Yes, Mr. Novack?

ARPAD. I want that office to shine, you hear me? Mr. Hammer­
schmidt is coming. Hurry, hurry. Let’s get busy around here.

FRITZ. Yes, Mr. Novack…

(Exits to office.)

SIPOS. Since when are you giving orders around here, Mister No-
vack? Why don’t you get in there and clean up that office yourself.

ARPAD. Me? Clean? Why do I have an assistant?

SIPOS. To assist you in doing the work. Not to do the work for
you.

ARPAD. But I’m a Clerk now. That has to mean something. It has to
count for something.

SIPOS. It does indeed. It means if you don’t go help Fritz right now,
you’ll be counting what number you are on the unemployment line.
98 E.P. Dowdall

ARPAD. Oh, alright.

(Exits office.)

(Curtain.)

(After only a few seconds, the curtain rises again.)

Scene 2

(It is 8 P.M. on the same day. HORVATH, BALASH, SIPOS

and ARPAD are attending to customers. MISS MOLNAR is at
the cash desk. Each one of them has a small queue of their own. At
the cash desk, four or five people are waiting to pay their bills. This
is Christmas Eve and the customers continue their last minute
shopping. The cash register keeps clattering. The entrance door is
in constant use.)

HORVATH. (Handing parcel and bill to a CUSTOMER:) Thank you

very much. Merry Christmas.

(The CUSTOMER exits.)

Good night.

CHORUS. Hammerschmidt’s thanks you

We hope to see you soon

OLD GENTLEMAN. (In front of SIPOS:) Let me see something un­

usual. Something different. Impress me.

SIPOS. Why yes, sir. Here we are, sir. A combination gift, it covers
every contingency for health and good grooming. It speaks of lov­ing
and caring and the harmonious life that you have lived to­gether. The
perfect gift for happy lifetime companions.

OLD GENTLEMAN. What’s in it?

SIPOS. (Matter-of-factly lists:) Two bars of soap, toothpaste, talcum

powder, a bottle of perfume and some razor blades.

OLD GENTLEMAN. Yeah, that’ll do. Wrap it up.

HORVATH. (Giving package to lady:) Thank you very much, madam.

 Parfumerie 99

(A few CUSTOMERS leave.)

Good night.

CHORUS. Hammerschmidt’s thanks you

We hope to see you soon

HORVATH. Merry Christmas.

AMALIA. Arpad.

ARPAD. Yes, Miss Balash?

AMALIA. Could you bring down a box of shower caps from up­
stairs, please.

ARPAD. I’m sorry, I’m occupied at the moment. Could you please
ask Fritz. (Shouting:) Fritz. Fritz.

SIPOS. (In a whisper:) Stop shouting, think about where you are.

FRITZ. (From balcony:) Yes, Mr. Novack?

ARPAD. What are you doing up there? Sleeping?

AMALIA. (To FRITZ on balcony:) Fritz. Will you please bring down a
box of shower caps for me.

FRITZ. Of course Miss Balash. Where are they?

ARPAD. On the left, fourth shelf, on the bottom, under the Mona
Lisa. Mind the tubes, they can be unstable.

(AMALIA shoots a knowing smile at HORVATH.)

(CUSTOMERS leaving.)

Good night.

CHORUS. Hammerschmidt’s thanks you

We hope to see you soon

HORVATH. Merry Christmas.

(The rush is petering out, only a few CUSTOMERS are left.)

100 E.P. Dowdall

FRITZ. (From balcony:) I’m sorry. I don’t see any shower caps here.

ARPAD. Look a little further to the left and back a bit on the shelf.

FRITZ. Oh okay I see it.

AMALIA. What would we do without you Arpad?

ARPAD. Well, I guess you wouldn’t have shower caps.

AMALIA. You can toss them down.

(FRITZ throws down a pack which lands on SIPOS’s head.)

SIPOS. Hey, careful there…careful.

FRITZ. I’m sorry, Mr. Sipos.

HORVATH. (Handing parcel to stout gentleman:) And your bill, sir.

ARPAD. Mr. Horvath, it’s past eight.

HORVATH. Alright, time to close.

(Last of CUSTOMERS leave.)

Good night.

CHORUS. Hammerschmidt’s thanks you

We hope to see you soon

Merry Christmas.

AMALIA. (Hanging the “Closed” sign on the door:) There. We are offi­
cially closed for the holiday.

HORVATH. Arpad, the special wreath, hurry.

ARPAD. I’m getting it. Fritz, come with me.

(Rushes into stockroom with FRITZ right behind. The excitement

is palpable.)

MISS MOLNAR. (Locks register and comes out of booth.) Where are we
going to put the wreath?

HORVATH. Maybe back here above the shelf.

 Parfumerie 101

SIPOS. How about on the street door?

MISS MOLNAR. I think it would look good up over the office

door.

AMALIA. No, no. I think Mr. Horvath is right. It will show off best
on the back shelf with the display lights illuminating it.

HORVATH. Arpad. Where’s that wreath?

ARPAD. (Comes from stockroom carrying a huge wreath with the words
“Welcome Home Mr. Hammerschmidt.”) Here it is, here it is.

HORVATH. Miss Balash, would you give me a hand with this.

(AMALIA and HORVATH behind counter fasten the wreath to

a shelf.)

MISS MOLNAR. What about the tree?

ARPAD. (Shouting:) Fritz. Are you bringing in that tree or not?

FRITZ. (Comes from stockroom with a small but heavily decorated Christ­
mas tree:) Here it is, sir.

HORVATH. Bring it over here Fritz.

(Puts the tree in the center of the counter. Everyone is busy mak­
ing preparations. At that moment HAMMERSCHMIDT enters
quietly. No one notices that he’s there. He stands in the doorway,
smiling and watching all the excitement.)

AMALIA. (Still with their backs to the door:) Arpad, you better keep
watch in the street.

HORVATH. That’s a good idea. Let us know when you see him
coming.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Good evening, everyone.

(Everyone freezes. AMALIA breaks the silence.)

AMALIA. Welcome home, Mr. Hammerschmidt. (Walks over and em­

braces him.)

(Everyone rushes him, hugging shaking hands, saying their wel­

102 E.P. Dowdall

comes.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Thank you very much. It’s good to be home.

I’m so grateful to you all for your loyalty and your work during
these, how shall I say it, “strange” times. (Acknowledges the wreath
and tree:) And your thoughtfulness. Thank you from the bottom of
my heart.

(Takes people’s hands again.)

(Looks at ARPAD.)

Look at you, so elegant, I don’t know that I’m worthy to shake your
hand.

ARPAD. (Holding out his hand:) Aw…Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (To SIPOS:) How’s he doing?

SIPOS. A little cheeky…but efficient.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (To FRITZ:) And you’re the new man?

FRITZ. Yes sir, brand new, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Well, keep up the good work. Where’s Miss

Ritter?

HORVATH. Miss Ritter left us last week, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. You don’t say? Why is that?

HORVATH. She’s marrying her gentlemen friend, that is, her fi­ancé.
She just phoned one morning that she wouldn’t be in anymore.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Can you manage without her?

SIPOS. (Answers quickly:) I’m certain we have JUST the right num­ber
of people to cover it.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (To MISS MOLNAR:) How did we do to-

day?

MISS MOLNAR. Over two thousand, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Bravo. I think I’ll take my coat off. It’s a lit­tle

 Parfumerie 103

warm in here. (Goes into office.)

(FRITZ starts to follow him.)

ARPAD. (Indignantly:) And where do you think you’re going?

FRITZ. To help him with his coat.

ARPAD. Oh no, that’s my job.

(Goes into office—FRITZ into stockroom.)

SIPOS. Did you see how he liked the wreath? I’m glad I thought of
it.

MISS MOLNAR. You thought of it?

SIPOS. Of course I did. Who else?

MISS MOLNAR. I thought of it.

SIPOS. You did? George whose idea was the wreath?

HORVATH. It was Miss Balash’s idea. And now that I think about
it, I believe the Christmas tree was her idea also.

MISS MOLNAR. Really?

I suppose the next thing you’re going to tell us is that she thought
up Christmas too.

(Exits to stockroom.)

ARPAD. (From the office door:) Mr. Hammerschmidt wants to see

you, Mr. Sipos.

(Back into office.)

SIPOS. (Nervous:) Me? What for?

(SIPOS exits to office.)

AMALIA. Mr. Horvath, why did you say the wreath was my idea?

HORVATH. Um, didn’t you mention it first?

AMALIA. No. I only seconded the idea. You’re the one that thought
104 E.P. Dowdall

of it.

HORVATH. Oh, it doesn’t matter whose idea it was. The main

thing was how happy Mr. Hammerschmidt was to see it, don’t you
think?

AMALIA. Of course.

HORVATH. (After a moment’s pause:) I hope you have a very nice

Christmas, Miss Balash.

AMALIA. Thank you. You too.

HORVATH. Will you be spending Christmas Eve at home?

AMALIA. Yes, of course. With mother.

HORVATH. Do you have a tree?

AMALIA. Yes we do. We have one every year.

HORVATH. That’s nice.

AMALIA. We’ve used the same decorations that have been in the
family for years and years, just adding one or two things now and
then. It reminds me of my childhood and when my father was still
alive.

HORVATH. Is it a big tree?

AMALIA. What do you consider big? I’d say it’s about as tall as you
are.

HORVATH. (Smiling:) Ah, it’s what you would call then a “perfect”
size.

AMALIA. Last year we had one that touched the ceiling but we
had to hang so much candy and extra cookies on it, it took us two
more days of baking just to fill it in. We decided on something a little
smaller this year. Where are you spending your evening?

HORVATH. Me? Oh, I don’t really know yet. Perhaps I’ll visit some
friends. My landlady invited me for a cup of egg nog. I’m not sure I
want to be in the same place with my landlady and egg nog.

(They both laugh.)

 Parfumerie 105

I don’t know, I suppose I’ll just turn in early. I’m pretty exhausted
from these last few days. Here’s my chance to catch up on some
sleep. I suppose you’ll be having company for supper?

AMALIA. Oh no. Well not company exactly.

HORVATH. No? No one?

AMALIA. Well, just my fiancé.

HORVATH. (After a moment’s pause:) Your fiancé, Miss Balash?

AMALIA. Yes, Mr. Horvath, you know about him.

HORVATH. Well I knew there was someone. But a fiancé, that’s

news. Do you have plans to marry soon?

AMALIA. Yes, in fact we should be setting the date tonight.

HORVATH. (After a moment’s pause:) What a surprise. Congratula-

tions.

AMALIA. Don’t be so surprised, Mr. Horvath. You see, there is

someone who loves me.

HORVATH. Oh, I didn’t mean…

AMALIA. You’ve already forgotten the things you told me on this

very spot, two weeks ago.

HORVATH. I am so sorry, Amalia. I did apologize. I do apologize.

AMALIA. (She smiles.) Do you know I almost died that day because
of the things you said to me. You’d said some pretty mean things in
the past, but when you said that it would be impossible for anyone
to ever love me, well, I can’t tell you how that hurt me. It was like
you’d found the most vulnerable spot of my very being and plunged
a knife into it. I just couldn’t bear it.

HORVATH. I had no idea what you were going through.

AMALIA. No you really had no idea at all. Just the day before, I’d
been stood up by the very person I was counting on. I waited from
three in the afternoon until eleven at night. (Laughs.) And then to
top it all, you said those awful things to me the next morning. And
106 E.P. Dowdall

worst of all they felt like the truth. But I’m not angry with you any-
more honestly, I’m not. My fiancé wrote to me again and ex­plained
everything. But the things that I wrote to him about you. God how I
poured out my hate in those letters.

HORVATH. I know.

AMALIA. You know?

HORVATH. Well, I mean, I can well imagine that you might ex­press
your displeasure with me to someone else.

AMALIA. Do you know what I wanted to do?

HORVATH. Can I guess?

AMALIA. You couldn’t guess in a million years. It’s too terrible.

HORVATH. Perhaps I can.

AMALIA. Never.

HORVATH. You suggested to your fiancé that he beat the living

daylights out of me.

AMALIA. (Surprised:) That’s right. How did you know?

HORVATH. I just guessed.

AMALIA. I wrote that you were a heartless fool and an idiot.

HORVATH. (Momentarily forgetting:) Yeah, that made me mad.

AMALIA. What?

HORVATH. (Thinking quickly:) Um, I would have been pretty mad,

if I’d known you’d written that.

AMALIA. Well, I did.

HORVATH. That’s all I’m saying.

AMALIA. I wrote other things too.

HORVATH. You don’t have to tell me.

 Parfumerie 107

AMALIA. And my fiancé wrote that if he ever lays hands on you.

HORVATH. (Interrupting:) That he’ll knock my teeth out, sure.

AMALIA. How do you know?

HORVATH. Every fiancé writes that. It’s not hard to imagine.

AMALIA. But if he were to get hold of you.

HORVATH. (Interrupting:) Then we’ll meet.

AMALIA. Oh, but you don’t know him.

HORVATH. I’ll introduce myself.

AMALIA. I don’t think he’s all bluster like Kadar, you know.

HORVATH. Well I should hope not. You deserve someone better

than the likes of that fool.

AMALIA. You know Mr. Horvath, I still do not know to this day
what you had against me.

HORVATH. How can I explain to you that…

AMALIA. (Interrupting:) I guess there is no explanation. I don’t want

to argue about it anymore. I want to put it behind us. If you promise
not to laugh, I’ll tell you something really ironic.

HORVATH. Of course, I won’t laugh.

AMALIA. Do you swear?

HORVATH. You have my word of honor.

AMALIA. (Sincerely:) When I first came to work here, I had a crush

on you. I did. And then you just started making fun of me, relent­
lessly. What could I do but respond in kind.

HORVATH. (Shocked:) You, had a crush on me?

AMALIA. In the beginning.

HORVATH. I didn’t know.

108 E.P. Dowdall

AMALIA. It wasn’t your fault. We were both foolish children;

adults on the outside perhaps, but children just the same. So I mis­
understood you and you misunderstood me and the results, well,
you know the rest. (After a moment’s pause:) Forgive me for being so
open with you. Perhaps I shouldn’t be, I don’t know, but somehow
I feel like I owe it to you…and to myself, to set things straight. It
seems almost like a dream now that up until just two weeks ago, I
hated you so deeply. And now when I think of it, it’s so odd but it
seems almost laughable.

HORVATH. I’m not laughing.

AMALIA. Oh but you should. If you only knew how much I hated
you, how loathsome you were to me, how unredeemable, how dis­
tasteful, how…

HORVATH. Yes, yes, I understand your point.

What I meant to say was that to me, the fact that it all happened this
way doesn’t seem amusing to me at all.

AMALIA. (With understanding:) But it is, Mr. Horvath, it is. I’m not
angry about it anymore. In fact I’m beginning to like you like…

HORVATH. Like…what?

AMALIA. Well, like Arpad or Sipos or, or Fritz.

HORVATH. Thanks, thanks a lot.

AMALIA. And if I really don’t offend you; if you’re being totally

honest with me now and telling me the truth, I’d like to do some­
thing, to show that we are truly friends.

I’d like you to spend this Christmas Eve with us, with me and mother.

HORVATH. Really?

AMALIA. Come to our house for supper tonight.

HORVATH. Me?

AMALIA. Yes, silly. You.

HORVATH. But didn’t you say you’re getting engaged tonight.

 Parfumerie 109

AMALIA. That’s exactly why I want you there. There are no other
men in our house. He’d be the only one. Another man would make
for just the right mix of conviviality and conversation.

HORVATH. Oh great, so…I’d be there to entertain your fiancé.

Swell, looking forward to it.

AMALIA. Now don’t get insulted. I thought we were friends now.

These are the things true friends do for each other. I would feel
more…comfortable with you there. And besides, good friends, true
friends should spend Christmas Eve together. I’d really like it if you
came for supper.

HORVATH. Of course I’m not insulted. In fact, I’d be delighted to

come. Thank you.

AMALIA. Oh good, I’m glad. I know you’ll enjoy yourself. Now

there’ll be two “guests of honor.”

SIPOS. (Coming from office looking serious:) Miss Balash. Mr. Ham­
merschmidt wants you.

HORVATH. Sipos, is everything all right?

SIPOS. (Shakes his head, then breaks into a big smile showing his enve­
lope.) Christmas bonus!

(AMALIA hurries into office.)

(SIPOS and HORVATH are alone.)

HORVATH. Sipos…

SIPOS. Yes?

HORVATH. You’ll never guess what happened.

SIPOS. Oh I can’t take this. What now?

HORVATH. Miss Balash invited me for supper tonight.

SIPOS. That’s great. Go.

HORVATH. But once I’m there, how am I going to arrive…again

SIPOS. What? Once you arrive, you don’t have to arrive again.
110 E.P. Dowdall

You’ll already be there.

HORVATH. You don’t understand. She only just invited me now,

me, George. But in reality she’s already expecting me, me the fiancé-
to-be.

SIPOS. This morning you told me you weren’t going to go. That you
were simply going to end it.

HORVATH. Do you want to know what I’m going to do?

SIPOS. If I said “no,” would it change anything?

HORVATH. (With great conviction:) I’m going to show up and not

show up by standing her up while I’m arriving.

SIPOS. (Pause.) Could you repeat that please? (HORVATH starts to

repeat.) No, no don’t please.

HORVATH. (All excited:) Don’t you get it? It’s simple. I’ll just call off
tonight’s date and then I can freely accept her invitation.

SIPOS. What are you talking about?

HORVATH. Listen to me carefully. As the “fiancé-to-be,” I’m going

to cancel our date tonight and this will probably make her so angry
that she’ll give up on me, well him, entirely. And when I get there
tonight as me, “me” me, something very new and real and wonder­
ful will develop between us. I won’t even send flowers, yeah, that
should really make her mad. But I’ll bring flowers to her myself so
that she can see what a different man I am…than…me.

SIPOS. O Lord, please make it stop! Take pity on me. I’m just a sim-
ple clerk in a little shop around the corner on Vaci Street. My brain is
on fire. Take pity George. It’s Christmas Eve for heaven sake.

HORVATH. Honestly, Sipos. What are you getting so excited about.

I can’t understand a word you’re saying.

SIPOS. You can’t understand a word I’M saying…

AMALIA. (Enters from office:) Mr. Horvath. Mr. Hammerschmidt

would like to see you next.

HORVATH. Thank you.

 Parfumerie 111

(Exits to office.)

SIPOS. Time to go, Amalia dear? It’s getting late. I hear you invited
Mr. Horvath for Christmas Eve dinner.

AMALIA. Yes, I did. I couldn’t bear the thought of him spending

Christmas Eve alone. He’s so different now. You know, it’s funny
Sipos, but he seems twice the man he used to be.

SIPOS. I think you’ve got something there, my dear.

(Both exit to stockroom.)

(Phone rings.)

HORVATH. (Enters from office, goes to phone:) Good evening, Ham­

merschmidt’s. Oh, good evening, Mrs. Hammerschmidt. Yes ma’m
he is here. One moment, I’ll get him for you. (Goes to office door and
calls:) Mr. Hammerschmidt, telephone for you.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Enters. He has taken off his overcoat.) Who is

it?

HORVATH. It’s Mrs. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Picks up phone.) Hello? Yes, dear…of course

…soon… No, no don’t come out in this weather, I can get home just
fine. We’re locking up now…yes, dear…see you soon…goodbye.

(Puts down phone.)

(HORVATH has gone behind the counter. Putters awkwardly

among the jars and bottles.)

Say. George.

HORVATH. Yes, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What are you doing tonight?

HORVATH. Miss Balash has invited me for supper.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Smiling.) Ah, finally friends. That’s a relief.

HORVATH. She asked me to spend Christmas Eve with her and her
mother.
112 E.P. Dowdall

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Well, that’s too bad for me. I had hoped you
might join me and the rest of the Hamerschmidt’s this evening.

HORVATH. I didn’t know, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Of course you didn’t know. Not to worry.

(Very long pause and then softly:) George.

HORVATH. Yes, sir?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I’m going home.

HORVATH. I’m glad, sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Do you think I’m doing the right thing?

HORVATH. I think so sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I think so too.

But there’s that little shadow of doubt.

HORVATH. I’m afraid you’re going to have to live with that sir. It’s
your choice.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. An old man like me. I don’t have a lot of op-

tions.

HORVATH. You’re not that old sir. And you have plenty of op­tions.
The only question is, can you live with this one.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Smiles.) I miss her George. I think this might

not have been entirely her fault. How often did I stay here day and
night? Even sometimes on Sundays to work on the books, or the
inventory or some other seemingly important detail? I might as well
have not been a husband at all, just someone to pay the bills, here
everyday with my mistress, this shop. A wife deserves more than
that. In an odd sort of way you could say I was cheating on her. She
knew it, and acted out in the only way she could.

(Pause.)

I’m going home George and try to start over again. Both of us want
to start over again.

MISS MOLNAR. (Comes from stockroom in hat and coat.) A very Merry
 Parfumerie 113

Christmas to you, Mr. Hammerschmidt.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. And to you, Miss Molnar. Hold on now, I

haven’t given you your Christmas envelope yet. Come with me.
(Starts for office, then turning around:) Good night George. I hope you
have a wonderful time this evening, and a very Merry Christmas.

HORVATH. Thank you, sir. Shall I wait for you?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, no. You go on. Arpad will wait for me.
You’ve got to get home and dressed for dinner. Hurry up, it’s get­ting
late. Come, Betty.

(Exits to office followed by MISS MOLNAR.)

(SIPOS and BALASH come from stockroom carrying many

brightly wrapped packages.)

SIPOS. Are you coming, Mr. Horvath?

HORVATH. I’ll get my coat.

(Exits to stockroom.)

SIPOS. The very best of Christmases to you, Amalia.

AMALIA. The same to you, Mr. Sipos and to your whole family.

SIPOS. Shall we walk to the square together?

AMALIA. Of course.

HORVATH. (Comes from stockroom wearing hat and coat.) Here I am.

AMALIA. Who’s going to see that Mr. Hammerschmidt gets home

alright.

HORVATH. Arpad’s still here. He’ll take care of Mr. Hammer­

schmidt.

SIPOS. That Arpad, he’s always here alone. It’s mighty suspicious if
you ask me. Why I’ve a mind to write a letter…

(Laughter all around.)

Look, I just remembered I have a couple of other errands to run. I’m

114 E.P. Dowdall

going to leave you two here. Amalia will you forgive me?

AMALIA. Of course Mr. Sipos. Think nothing of it. Plenty of walks

to come.

SIPOS. Thank you, good night. Merry Christmas to both of you.

HORVATH & AMALIA. Merry Christmas to you too.

AMALIA. Wonderful to see Mr. Hammerschmidt in the shop again.

HORVATH. Seems like old times.

AMALIA. Oh, no. Don’t remind me of old times. I look forward to

new times only.

HORVATH. Yes, and with a pending engagement.

AMALIA. Yes.

(Pause.)

Mr. Horvath, what do you think of all this letter writing? Does it
seem odd to you? Does it seem, well like something is missing?

HORVATH. What do you mean?

AMALIA. You know, I’ve spent so much time pouring myself out in
these letters and yet I’m beginning to wonder now if any of it is real.
It’s all just paper and ink, nothing actually lived, just written words
on countless pages. Do you think I’m making a mistake?

HORVATH. I don’t know what to say Miss Balash. I mean, you’ve

given so much to this relationship, in letters admittedly, but such
beautiful letters, such deeply felt and such deeply appreciated
words.

AMALIA. Deeply appreciated Mr. Horvath?

HORVATH. Well,…certainly someone such as yourself could not

have written otherwise. And who would not have appreciated and
loved you more for having done so.

AMALIA. I don’t know. A note here, a note there. When you add it
all up, what will be the difference in the end? A package of papers,
tied up with a ribbon, tucked away in a drawer somewhere.
 Parfumerie 115

HORVATH. No, Amalia, never.

(He carefully removes a package of letters tied with a ribbon from

his inside coat pocket.)

I carry them with me.

AMALIA. You? I knew it. I’d hoped it. But I never dreamed it could
be true.

HORVATH. It’s true. Box 520.

(They kiss.)

HORVATH. I’m sorry I took so long to tell you.

Loving and arguing. Arguing and yet loving you all the time. You,
know Mr. Sipos said I always behaved like a married man.

AMALIA. Why Mr. Horvath, is that a proposal?

HORVATH. Let’s discuss it over dinner, dear.

(Offers his arm. She takes it and they exit, front door.)

ARPAD. (Enters. Putters about the shop. Looks out into the street, then
goes to the office door.) Mr. Hammerschmidt?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (From inside:) Yes, what is it?

ARPAD. Shall I put the lights out?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Yes, do that.

ARPAD. The windows too?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. No, leave them on.

ARPAD. Yes, sir.

(Goes to switchboard and one after another, switches off the shop
lights. Only the windows remain lit.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Coming from office:) Ready?

ARPAD. Yes, sir.

116 E.P. Dowdall

HAMMERSCHMIDT. How about the stockroom and the lab?

ARPAD. Everything is off sir.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Can you get me my coat.

ARPAD. Yes, sir.

(Goes into office.)

HAMMERSCHMIDT. (Calls after him:) And my walking stick.

ARPAD. (Returns with hat, coat and walking stick.) Here we are, sir.

(Helps HAMMERSCHMIDT with his coat.)

(From somewhere down the street carolers are heard.)

Christmas Carols.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I hear. Are you coming to my house?

ARPAD. Are you inviting me?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. I am.

ARPAD. Then absolutely I’ll come.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. We’re having a special supper.

ARPAD. Rabbit?

HAMMERSCHMIDT. How did you know? Do you like rabbit?

ARPAD. None better than on the Hammerschmidt table.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. What do you want for Christmas?

ARPAD. I can’t tell you.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Certainly you can. You can tell me any­

thing.

ARPAD. No. Besides, I won’t get it anyhow.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. Tell me what it is boy. I insist.

 Parfumerie 117

ARPAD. A motorcycle.

HAMMERSCHMIDT. You’re right. You won’t get it.

(They leave, locking the door from the outside. The sound of car­
olers comes nearer. HAMMERSCHMIDT and ARPAD walk
away. The windows are beautifully lit in the darkness as the cur­
tain slowly falls.)

End of Play
 Pronunciation Guide
Miklos : MEE-clohsh (clohsh as in social)

Horvath : HOR-vaht

Sipos : SHEE-pohsh (pohsh as in social)

Kadar : KAH-dahr

Amalia Balash : a-MAHL-ia BAH-lahsh (lahsh as in Galoshes)

Ilona : EE-lohn-ah

Molnar : MOL-nar

Arpad : AR-pahd

Mezei : MEH-zay-ee

Vaci : VAH-tsee

Hussars : HOO-sarz

Vermes : FEHR-mesh

Farkas : FAR-kahsh

Nagy : NAHDJ

118
 Biography of Miklos Laszlo
Miklos Laszlo (1903-1973) was well known as a playwright in his na-
tive Hungary before coming to America in 1938. He won the Royal
Hungarian Dramatic Academy’s Grand Prize in 1934 for his interna-
tionally produced play, The Happiest Man. His single greatest Ameri-
can success was the play Illatszertar, translated into English as Par­
fumerie. The screenplay by Samson Raphaelson became the Ernst Lu-
bitsch film The Shop Around the Corner (1940) with James Stewart and
Margaret Sullavan and later In the Good Old Summertime (1949) with
Van Johnson and Judy Garland. Most recently it has emerged again
as the Nora Ephron film You’ve Got Mail (1998) with Tom Hanks and
Meg Ryan. It has also been adapted to the musical theatre as the ever
popular She Loves Me (Jerry Bock & Sheldon Harnick) performed pe-
rennially in many venues since its original opening on Broadway in
1963. Only one other of Miklos Laszlo’s plays was ever widely pro-
duced in the Americas. Entitled St. Lazar’s Pharmacy, the play starred
famed actress Miriam Hopkins and toured all over Canada and the
United States.

119
 History of Illatszertar by Miklos Laszlo
This play was first produced in Budapest, Hungary, in 1937.

From 1938 to 1957 it was produced in the following countries: Aus-

tria, Poland, Switzerland, Italy, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Bel-
gium, Holland, Finland, Romania, Greece, Bulgaria, Czechoslova-
kia, Portugal, Yugoslavia, Spain, Brazil, Argentina and Israel. Since
1957, it has been produced in the previous countries again, as well as
in Greece, Germany, France, Israel, Argentina and Uruguay.

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer made three motion picture versions of this

play:
1. The Shop Around the Corner, 1940, produced and directed
by Ernst Lubitsch; starring Margaret Sullavan, James Stewart, Frank
Morgan, Joseph Schildkraut and Felix Bressart.
2. In the Good Old Summertime, 1949, produced by Joe Paster-
nak, starring Judy Garland and Van Johnson.
3. You’ve Got Mail, 1998, written and directed by Nora
Ephron, starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.

The play was also the basis for the 1963 Hal Prince musical She Loves
Me, starring Barbara Cook and Daniel Massey.

This play was never produced on the legitimate stage in the U.S.A.

120