A RAPE IN GLORIOUS

Art student Joan Berk will soon have to leave college when her scholarship is cut. If she forgoes art and takes an English degree, she may be eligible for a another scholarship appointed by Niven Landeau, her poetry professor. She is in the artroom working on a sculpture when the model, Faye, confronts her about Dr. Laneau true nature.

Faye is posing for Joan, her blouse low, exposing bare shoulders. From time to time she glances down at a newspaper. Joan carefully shapes the clay figure of a young woman, erect, her head held high as though steeling herself for some unknown fight.

FAYE

Lips that your girlfriend envies, lips that your boyfriend longs to kiss. "Lipstick Valmay Permanent" makes wandering lips safe from betrayal. Soft as satin, flaming with youth.

JOAN

Why do you always talk like that?

FAYE

Teaching myself to speak right—when I'm ready, gonna get me a job on radio. Listen what the New York paper says. (Reads) "Mrs. Albert A. Stewart gave a luncheon in the Egyptian room of the St. Regis..."

(Church bells toll in the distance. They both turn toward the sound. Faye slips from her stool, buttons up her blouse.)

JOAN

Faye, how much does the school pay you?

FAYE

Fifty cents a class. I'm worth more, I'll tell you.

JOAN

Look, I won't be taking this course next semester but I still want to keep up, you know? I couldn't afford to pay you with anything but drawings but I was wondering if....

FAYE

What about this statue?

JOAN

This? It’s not even finished, who knows how it’ll turn out. I have some watercolors—

FAYE

But it’s sculpture, it’ll last. Something to show my grandkids - give me that and I'll pose for you anytime. I'm free except Saturday afternoons I go into Philly to Tyler - they pay two bucks, life drawing. Say, they need a new girl. You got a swell shape. You could use the cash, right? They got portrait classes too, you get to wear nifty costumes.

(Faye reaches into a large cloth bag, brings out an embroidered tunic. Joan smiles, shakes her head.)

(Getting it) Just not your cup of tea, huh? That's okay. (Weighing her words.) I seen ya with that English teacher. He, ah... teaching you how to speak?

JOAN

Dr. Landau? Why?

FAYE

Some people ain't what they look like. What kinda stuff he say?

(Joan turns away, troubled. Faye lifts one of Joan's books.)

"Joan of Lorraine." You college kids - you're all so romantic - you make me laugh.

JOAN

(Grabbing the book) There's nothing romantic about her - she was a soldier– a military genius—

FAYE

(A forced laugh) Man-oh-man, you got it bad.

JOAN

You're ignorant. It's useless to waste my time—

FAYE

You're the one who's ignorant if you think that bum Landau's gonna help you - has he offered to teach you Shakespeare yet? Watch out when he trots out the "thou shalt not tarry" crap—

JOAN

I don't need you to warn me, I know what—

FAYE

You know beans—my kid sister and me was raised by nuns, so let me tell you about Miss Joan of Arc — ever wonder why those girl saints're all the same age when they start hearing their voices and having their visions? Why they're all thirteen? Think, miss college student– -what happens to girls at thirteen?

JOAN

I couldn't care less.

FAYE

They get to decide if they're going to hell or not. Sisters of Mercy pounded that one into us alright. Heroine? Joan of Arc was just a girl who figured it was safer to be a boy and ride a horse and not have to worry about these, (grabbing HER breasts)–her own sex—she was a damn coward like all of them—like you—and you’re gonna pay for it if—

JOAN

Shut your filthy mouth.

(Faye seizes her coat, flies out the door .)