BAckstage, the theatre manager was pacing restlessly. "It will never work," he said.
"It will work," the director replied.
"It's never been done," said the manager.
"That's the fifth time you've said that."
"I'll say it a sixth time -- it's never been done!"
"Good," said the director. "All the more reason to do it, wouldn't you say?"
The manager rubbed his bald head. He forced himself to speak in moderate tones. "May I remind you," he said slowly, "that we are in this business for one purpose only? To fill the theatre."
"This will fill the theatre," said the director. "They'll love it."
"They'll hate it."
"Don't you trust me?"
The manager sensed the coming storm cloud of temperament. An angry director was no good to him. So, expansively, he said, "My dear friend!" and put an arm around the other man's shoulders. "Trust you? Where could I find another director like you, even if I searched the whole city? The whole country? My friend, believe me, I trust you. You're an artist. You're a professional. You're popular. You know what the public wants."
"Thank you."
"And so do I. That's why I'm a manager."
"Oh."
"I'm also a little bit older than you, young fellow," chuckled the manager. "I've seen plays come and go, audiences come and go -- and I've seen directors come and go."
"Is that a threat?" snapped the director, his eyes narrowing.
"Threat?" The manager appeared dumbfounded. "Would I threaten? Would I threaten a great artist and a personal friend who has been a guest in my house and dined with me I don't know how many times? Threaten?" He spread his arms and rolled his eyes heavenward, as if asking for divine assistance. Then, gently, he said, "My boy. Listen. The public only thinks it wants something new. What it really wants is the same old thing with a little bit of a twist here and there."
"That's all I'm going to give them," said the director. "One little twist. The script will remain exactly the same. I'm not going to change a single word."
The manager only sighed, but he did it eloquently. Then he said, resignedly: "You're determined to do this thing? You're determined to ruin me?"
The director patted the older man's arm. "They'll love it," he assured him. "You'll see."
In misery, the manager whined, "A director speaking lines. A single man responding to the chorus! Talking back and forth to them like real-life conversation! I'll be a laughing stock!"
"Stop worrying," said the director. "It may start a whole new profession: Responder, or Speaker, or -- Actor. Ah! I like that." And, winking at his manager, Thespis walked out into the bright sunlight of the Athenian theatre.
