Downstage is a small table with three chairs behind it, their backs to the audience. Houselights are up. A stagehand (Anthony) wanders onto the stage from the shop in work clothes. Having brought in the backdrop of a set, he is trying to pull out its wrinkles. The stage manager (Scott) walks on through the house doors, carrying a coffee pot and a script. He and Scott exchange hellos.

SCOTT: After you sweep up, can you get out the Deramo and Smeraldina masks?

ANTHONY: Sure.

SCOTT: Thanks. We’re going to need them tonight. Floyd, you up there? (calling to the electrician in the booth who answers through the speaker, “Yeah, Scott”) Set up something we can use for the The King Stag—you know how Jeremy hates work lights. (Floyd: “Okay, sure.”)

(The stagehand picks up his tools and materials and starts sweeping. The actors wander in through the various doors of the theatre, one after the other—Will, Tommy, and Karen [later, Chuck]—to rehearse Gozzi’s The King Stag. As they enter, they improvise greetings to the stage manager [“Hi, Scott.” “Do you need me right away? I’d like to get a sandwich.” “There’s a poker game at Bob’s house after rehearsal,” etc.] Some sit on chairs and read the paper; Will lies on the floor and does yoga exercises, waiting for Jeremy [the director] to arrive and start rehearsals. Tommy discusses with Scott where he exits in the scene to be rehearsed, and tries on bits of costume. Jeremy enters through the house doors left.)

SCOTT: All right, settle, everybody. The senior actor’s arrived.

(The actors grow quiet and peer into the darkened auditorium. A voice from the back of the theatre calls out, “Hi, chaps.” Jeremy, the senior actor, walks down the aisle onto the stage and greets the actors who respond, “How’s it going, Jeremy?” To Scott he says, “How you feeling?” Scott: “Not bad.”)

JEREMY: What am I supposed to be doing tonight?

SCOTT: King Stag. We have to plug Karen into the scene with Deramo in Act 1. I want to make sure they’re both comfortable with the movement.

JEREMY: Movement? That’s not my job. That’s the director’s job. I’m just the actor who’s coming in to help. That’s Andrei Serban’s job. He’s the director….

SCOTT: You know how busy Andrei is. He’s been on the West Coast and back and forth to Europe.

JEREMY: Andrei’s never here when he’s wanted. He’s always farting off all over the world, directing Chekhov in Tokyo, or opera in Cardiff, or no doubt doing something in Greek in Buda-bloody-pest….

KAREN: Oh come on, Jeremy, you’ve just got your knickers in a twist.

JEREMY: I have not got my knickers in a twist….

SCOTT: Let’s get going.

JEREMY: It always falls to me. Why is it always me, me, me?

SCOTT: Jeremy, we have done this show three hundred times in eleven different countries—why are you so grouchy tonight?

JEREMY: I am not grouchy. I’m in a very good mood, thank you. And could we have some decent lights for Christ’s sake? These new contacts are killing my eyes.

SCOTT: (to booth) Floyd, when you’re set up could you punch that in, please? Thank you. And kill the house and works. (In a few seconds, the stage where the actors are standing is lit with a brilliant white light Scott and Jeremy sit down at the table.) Thank you.

JEREMY: Oh, that’s much better. That’s nice and cozy. I like that.