An excerpt from my good name.

Act Two. Scene One: A little later that Monday

RACHEL and HARRY are dancing to a different tune. The music stops. HE goes to change the tape. SHE stands there for a moment.

RACHEL: But wasn't what you did the same as what they did?

HARRY: Similar, not the same. Any requests?

RACHEL: But basically, was it insider trading?

HARRY: I was waiting for you to say "whatever that is".

RACHEL: Whatever it is, it's illegal. I know that much.

(MUSIC from the new tape HARRY has chosen. HE is humming along with it.)

Is there anything Celeste Magowan might ferret out?

HARRY: Will you please not worry? Ambitious people are easy to handle.

(Holds out his arms, inviting her to dance, but SHE doesn't move.)

RACHEL: Muriel thought she was easy. How similar was what you did to inside trading?

HARRY: (Smiles)

There are those who might say that's what it was. Rachel, it was very popular in all of its forms until Dennis Levine got himself arrested. You know what stunned me when we first dated? What a marvelous dancer you were. It didn't go with the rest of you.

RACHEL: Until we went to bed.

HARRY: Yes. Come on. Stun me.

(Holds out his arms again.)

RACHEL: Are you in danger of going to jail?

HARRY: No.

RACHEL: Because you didn't do exactly what they did?

HARRY: (Drops his arms. A moment.)

Because they didn't do what I did.

RACHEL: (After a moment.)

Could we do without the music?

(HE turns it off.)

What did you do, Harry?

HARRY: (A moment.)

I provided evidence against Michael Milken.

RACHEL: To whom?

HARRY: The Feds.

RACHEL: Why?

HARRY: I didn't want to go to jail.

RACHEL: Ivan Boesky provided evidence against Milken. It didn't keep him out of jail.

HARRY: Ivan Boesky was fined a hundred million dollars. Imagine how much he made.

RACHEL: And kept.

HARRY: He was a catch.

RACHEL: Milken was an even bigger catch.

HARRY: Oh, much. That's what the Feds go after.

RACHEL: You're not a big catch, Harry. They went after you. But then they gave you a choice. At least, I suppose they did.

HARRY: They did.

RACHEL: Why? Because you're Harrison Beaumont?

HARRY: Meaning what?

RACHEL: Dennis Levine isn't in the big catch class with Boesky and Milken.

HARRY: No.

RACHEL: But he is in another class all the Yeshiva boys are in. Outsiders go to jail for insider trading, insiders don't.

HARRY: Ever hear of Boyd Jefferies?

RACHEL: An inside trader?

HARRY: Until Boesky included him our.

RACHEL: Alright, he was the token goy. You have your amused look.

HARRY: I'm not amused and you're wrong.

RACHEL: The old boys are smart. It's smart to include a token. They always do.

HARRY: You ran this into the ground with Celeste Magowan. What are you after, Rachel? Not for her, for yourself? What is it you want?

RACHEL: I don't know. I'm fishing. Like Celeste.

HARRY: I'd rather have music and dance.

RACHEL: I'll rake a rain check.

(A moment.)

Please, Harry.

HARRY: I forgot you read your publishing contracts. You want the fine print.

RACHEL: All of it.

HARRY: You have your serious look. It is serious but nor that serious.

RACHEL: Good. I could use a laugh.

HARRY: When I began on Wall Street, insider trading wasn't a crime. It's a victimless one, anyway.

RACHEL: Nobody loses?

HARRY: Oh, money, yes. But we're a get rich quick country. Money is our national product, and making money from money is our number one business. A little knowledge can make a lot of Muriel's moolah. It did for Levine and Boesky and Milken.

RACHEL: And Beaumont?

HARRY: Not in their class. Either class. You think they went down because they're outsiders. I think because they were greedy. I wasn't greedy, Rachel. I simply wanted to live well. I wanted to be sure that you and I and your child and my childr--child lived well. We do. We have everything we need and a bit more. But we don't live in the land of Ferraris. I was neither gaudy nor greedy. When they caught up with me, what did they catch? Good name, good clubs, a personable, affable asset to be counted on and no threat to anyone. A gentleman. That's an old fashioned concept, so they don't say it. But they think it, and what they think is: you can believe him. In the case of the Feds: you can believe his testimony. That's why they gave me the choice. I could help them and get immunity or I could be sent to jail. Why should I go to jail? What good would it do anyone if I went to jail? You and Becca would have to give up this room. Why should you? Why should I?

RACHEL: (After a moment.)

This is ridiculous. I feel like I'm hyperventilating.

HARRY: Take some slow deep breaths.

RACHEL: I'm not hyperventilaring. This is ridiculous! You know what it is? I know what it is. Everything in my head is jammed. All circuits closed down. I had it once before. Years ago, before you. Even before Becca. I was trying to get away from Mickey and wound up back-packing through Europe with him. In Paris, I spoke French--from college. In Madrid, Spanish--from high school. By the time we got to Italy, I had stopped thinking in English and was translating from either Spanish or French into Italian in the present tense. Until one night, in a bar in Positano. Out of season, just before Easter--the Buca di Bacco! I can see the carving over the door. All the languages seemed jammed in my head and I couldn't speak anything for ten minutes. Nothing, not one word, not even English for ten minutes. The next day, I flew home alone. But Becca was already underway.

HARRY: (After a moment.)

Did Mickey know that you were angry?

RACHEL: I'm not angry at you, Harry. My circuits are jammed.

HARRY: Unjam them. Just rattle off whatever--

RACHEL: How could you do it?

HARRY: (A moment.) Do which?

RACHEL: Which?

HARRY: How could I break the law or how could I cooperate with the government?

RACHEL: Both.

HARRY: Without difficulty.

RACHEL: No guilt?

HARRY: No.

RACHEL: No remorse?

HARRY: No.

RACHEL: Well, we have the Ten Commandments.

HARRY: Not restricted to you, Rachel. We have guilt and remorse, too. I've had both but in this instance, neither is warranted.

RACHEL: Levine and Boesky and Milken were restricted. Unlike you.

HARRY: How?

RACHEL: They weren't given the choice you were. You got away with what you did because you're Harrison Beaumont and that was enough. But then, unfortunately, because was greedy, along came Vanity Fair and you're in danger of not getting away with it.

HARRY: (After a moment.)

Are you pleased?

RACHEL: What??

HARRY: That I may be getting my just desserts?

RACHEL: (After a moment.)

I'm not allowed to question you, Harry?

HARRY: You can question anything. I would just rather you didn't apply Talmudic standards to my answers.

RACHEL: What standards may I apply? What standards would you like me to apply? Tell me. I'm ambitious, too. Make it easy for me to understand you. Do you think those other men deserve to go to jail?

HARRY: Not really.

RACHEL: (Surprised)

You don't? Honestly?

HARRY: Honestly.

RACHEL: But they broke the law.

HARRY: I don't happen to believe in that particular law. It's too whimsical. It could easily qualify quite a few others for jail--insiders, as you might put it--but they never go.

RACHEL: But Harry, knowing that, you still cooperated, you still -

HARRY: Go on.

RACHEL: Harry -

HARRY: I cooperated, I gave evidence -

RACHEL: Let's stop.

HARRY: No, let's not. How could I give evidence that could help send an associate to prison? To save my ass, Rachel. But Harrison Beaumont doesn't have an ass. He's not allowed to have an ass is he, Rachel? He's not allowed to fiddle as Levine and Boesky and Milken did, he's not allowed to cooperate as Boesky did, is he? Do you think ignoble behavior is restricted to Jews, Rachel?

(A pause. Then SHE goes to the stereo and turns it on. DANCE MUSIC. SHE holds out her arms to Harry:)

RACHEL: Your rain check.

(A moment. Then HE gets up, comes to her and THEY begin to dance--apart, almost formally. Suddenly SHE stops and slaps him in the face, then turns off the music. HARRY makes himself a drink.)

RACHEL: How much do you think Celeste Magowan knows?

HARRY: Nothing.

RACHEL: How much do you think she can find out?

HARRY: Nothing.

RACHEL: She'll ask around.

HARRY: Miss Magowan is an outsider. So is Vanity Fair for that matter. She's do better on the Wall Street Journal. Of course, they're given to protecting insiders. Drink?

RACHEL: No. She'll threaten you.

HARRY: Casually. In the interest of providing her article with--what was it?

RACHEL: Snap.

HARRY: Snap. It might force her into featuring some nasty innuendo unless, of course, I'm willing to give her hard facts in exchange.

RACHEL: Will you?

HARRY: No. I will casually mention lawsuits and people in high places. Like her boss at Conde Nast.

RACHEL: She has those photographs Axel took.

HARRY: When?

RACHEL: When?

HARRY: When did he take those?

RACHEL: Today.

HARRY: How do you know? If there's no one else in them but me in my banker uniform, they could have been taken last year. Or the year before that. Or the year before that. I bad some SEC business two years ago, in point of fact.

RACHEL: And the DA?

HARRY: I'll have to consult my appointment diary.

RACHEL: I didn't know you were that clever.

HARRY: Don't you mean "tricky"? More of us are than you think.

RACHEL: You've made that point, Harry.

HARRY: You draw your line because you underestimate us.

RACHEL: Becca doesn't underestimate you. She would like you to adopt her.

HARRY: (A moment.)

When did she tell you?

RACHEL: She didn't. She left a sheet of paper in Louis Auchincloss's new novel. She'd been practicing her signature: Rebecca Beaumont. Very elegant whirls and swirls.

HARRY: Why did you bring up Becca, Rachel? Why Celeste Magowan? Why are we talking about them and not us?

RACHEL: Diversionary tactics.

HARRY: Why?

RACHEL: My anger. And yours. Yes, yours, Harry! Controlled and covered by charm! All the more frightening! Becca's adoption is a practical problem, Celeste Magowan's article is a practical problem. If we concentrate on practical problems we might reduce our anger and get through without too much damage. Then we can talk about us.

HARRY: (A moment.)

I can never completely anticipate you...There's a practical problem with Magowan you might consider.

RACHEL: Fine. Thank you. What?

HARRY: The more scandalous her article is about me, the better publicity it is for your book.

RACHEL: (A moment.)

Why did you mention that?

HARRY: I'd survive, Rachel.

RACHEL: I wouldn't. Are you seriously suggesting I consider it?

HARRY: It's a reality, Rachel.

RACHEL: (Passionately)

Not mine. Yours, Harry. Your reality. You can break the law because you don't approve of that particular law. Breaking it is popular among your fellow insiders, but since, unlike their Jewish partners, they don't go to jail, why should you? And why shouldn't you cooperate with the Feds if, also unlike your Jewish partners, it keeps you out of jail? Your reality, Harry. You assume therefore it's mine. But it isn't. It's Alice in Wonderland, upside down, inside out. You're inside and I'm out.

HARRY: Out? You're Mrs. Harrison Beaumont.

RACHEL: Some of the time. Mostly I'm like Gertrude Stein's St. Theresa: half in half out the door.

HARRY: Also Jewish. Gertrude Stein.

RACHEL: Also out.

HARRY: Is that where you're comfortable, Rachel?

RACHEL: It's familiar.

HARRY: But is it where you like to be?

RACHEL: I don't have a choice, Harry.

HARRY: No? If you were so comfortable where you were, why did you marry me? Surely that was a choice.

RACHEL: Yes.

HARRY: Surely you've enjoyed being Mrs. Harrison Beaumont.

RACHEL: Yes.

HARRY: Are you enjoying this, Rachel? I'm not.

RACHEL: No. It frightens me.

HARRY: I frighten you.

RACHEL: No, I frighten me. I'm descending the stairs, trying to hold on to the banister the way Mrs. Harrison Beaumont should, but my feet are slipping and I'm churning inside, Harry! Just saying that word "inside" makes me rage! At myself, Harry. Well, and you, yes. I have too many not very nice, no, terrible thoughts about each of us doing both of us in by being so greedy. I am half in, half out and why not?

(Exploding)

Outside is such hard work and inside is a disappointment! You are not the same man I married, Harry! You resemble that man, you are as desirable, but he was not this! He could not have been this! He is not--stop it, Rachel. Stop.

(A long moment.)

I should tell Becca. No matter how many times you write a signature, that still doesn't make it your name.

THE LIGHT SLOWLY FADES