Recap: Not realizing he is under the spell of his captivating gypsy host, Gizella Bogdan, Morris sits to eat what he believes to be rabbit.

Morris: Geez, rabbit! Really? Great! You must hunt your own food around here then, huh?

Gizella: No, I could never use a fire arm.

Morris: Then where did you get this?

Gizella: I have a friend. A gentleman friend…a hunter. Please…eat.

Morris eats imaginary food and believes he is actually eating.

Gizella: He passes by on occasion and leaves me fresh meat. He is a good man…a responsible man.

Morris: Hey, this is tastes pretty damned good!

Gizella: I will be sure to tell him the next time he comes by.

Morris: It's good to have friends like that, wha'?

Gizella: Yes, I suppose.

Morris: Hmmm!

Gizella: Is there something wrong?

Morris: Are you sure this is rabbit?

Gizella: Oh sir Morris, of course I am sure it is rabbit. Why, is there something wrong?

Morris: No, it's great as a matter of fact, but the old lady…my mother…she used to make rabbit and it didn't taste anything like this.

Gizella: You have not eaten rabbit prepared in such a way?

She takes his water glass and refills it. The water, drawn from the very same trough is now red.

Morris: No, I guess not.

Gizella: It is a family recipe…a specialty of my sister.

Morris: Your sister, huh? She a good cook?

Gizella: Yes…she was.

Morris: Oh, you mean the ghost.

Gizella: Yes, Lutheria. Here, please, have some water with your meal.

He drinks. Throughout the following dialogue he watches her. He is gape-mouthed and seems to be getting dizzy.

Gizella: Lutheria was a wonderful cook…a baker like no other…a wood fire…the flowers and herbs of the forest…the waters that flowed from the mountain streams…that is all she ever needed. She could make wine from the morning dew…collect the droplets from each tiny blade of grass…gather them together…these perfect gems of crystal liquid…the tears of a thousand angels…I miss her…I cry for her at night…

Pause. She looks to Morris

…sir Morris!

Morris: Huh?

Gizella: You are falling asleep?

He tries to snap out of it

Morris: Ah…yeah…I..I think so…oh…wow. I feel real weird.

Gizella: Have a drink of water.

Morris: Yeah…yeah, a drink of water. That's what I need.

The water seems to bring him back to life

Gizella: Are you feeling sick?

Morris: No…no…I'm fine…I'm ok, I…hell, I don't know what it was…I just got…I dunno…things started movin' around the room or somethin'.

Gizella: A dizzy spell perhaps?

Morris: Yeah…it was weird, but I'm ok.

Gizella: You are sure of that?

Morris: Yeah…honest…I'm fine

He continues to eat his imaginary rabbit

…rabbit's good.

Gizella: Yes, you told me already.

Morris: Listen, if ah…if you're really a gypsy…how come I don't see no crystal ball around here.

Gizella: Ha!

Morris: Wha'? Did I say somethin' funny?

Gizella: Sir Morris, crystal balls are nothing more that a prop used by circus fortune tellers…glass baubles…something for these so-called predictors of the future to stare into while spinning their untruths. It keeps them from having to look directly into your eyes.

Pause. She is staring directly into his eyes throughout the following dialogue

You have heard that the eyes are the windows to the soul?

Morris: Windows? Mirrors? Somethin' like that.

Gizella: Windows sir Morris…windows…and it is true. The eyes will never lie…they always speak the truth…we have no control over them…they function independently…they are the undoer of every dishonest human being…they will always tell on you…and the only escape…is to gouge them out.

Morris: Gouge them out? Holy Jesus, that's sick!

She walks away from him speaking mostly to herself.

Gizella: Sick? Humph! Imagine, this coming from a man who brutally murdered three women.

Morris: What's that?

Gizella: Nothing, sir Morris, nothing. I was simply thinking out loud.

Morris: I ah…I used to know this guy and ah…whenever he lied, his eye used to twitch. Funny, wha'?

Gizella: No, sir Morris…it is not funny. Honestly, I am not the least bit amused by you.

Morris: Oh…sorry.

Gizella looks through the window toward the sky

Gizella: There is no need to apologize. We are two different people from two different worlds. We can understand each others differences if we choose to but neither of us should be expected to laugh at what was meant to be a joke if we do not get the joke and I do not get the joke.

Morris: Well, it wasn't really a joke. I was just tellin' you about this guy I used to know who…aw, never mind. Forget it. You're impossible to have a conversation with. The minute I start one you go off talkin' craziness.

Gizella: The moon is full.

Morris: Yeah, like that's all I need. A full moon.

Gizella: The stars are flung wide and far across the sky…

Morris: Aww christ! This is crazy!

Gizella: Millions of tiny pin prick holes…do you see them?

Morris: Naw, I don't wanna see them.

Gizella: The sky is black sir Morris, but there is daylight just beyond it…the stars prove that.

Pause. He laughs at her.

Morris: Ha! That a fact now.

Gizella: Believe what you want sir Morris, but do not make fun of me. I see things…I see things that you do not understand, but because you do not understand that is no reason for you to laugh.

Morris: Ok, so, what do you see?

Gizella: I beg your pardon?

Morris: When you looked into my eyes. Through the windows to my soul. What do you see?

Gizella: I saw what you think

Morris: Did you really.

Gizella: Yes…I did….really…and what you think, sir Morris…it is evil.

Morris: Well, maybe you just have to learn to see the good in people.

Gizella: The good?

Morris: Yeah, the good!

Gizella: You want me to tell you the good?

Morris: Yeah, I do.

Gizella: Then I will tell you the good sir Morris. I will tell you the good! I saw a good twelve year old boy…one who ran errands and one who shoveled snow filled walkways, one who chopped kindling wood for a seventy two year old woman named Missus Coglin…

Morris: What?

Gizella: A woman too old and too feeble to take care of herself. I saw a good twelve year old boy who accepted no reward, none whatsoever…a boy who was happy only to sit at her kitchen table as she served him home-made oatmeal cookies…

Morris: Oh my God!

Gizella: I saw a little boy crying…a little boy who locked himself away in his room for two days when he found out that she passed away…that's what I saw!

Morris: How the hell do you know this stuff--

Gizella: Because I, sir Morris…I…have the power of knowing.

Morris: Oh my God…

Gizella: So, tell me, what happened to that little boy sir Morris?

Morris: Oh my God…

Gizella: Do you know?

He is weeping

Morris: Missus Coglin…oh…my…God…

Pause. She regains her composure.

Gizella: Oh please…stop your crying sir Morris…I am not finished…because, when I looked into your eyes I saw what you feel too. I saw what you feel…and it is nothing. You… you…are a frightened man.

Morris: Leave me alone.

Gizella: You are scared.

Morris: I am not!

He gets the towel to wipe his tears

Gizella: Yes…you…are!

Morris: I'm…I'm not scared of anything and…and I'm not scared of any one, and…and…and that includes you.

Gizella: Humph…me you say…you are not frightened of me? Oh…really…hmmm…if this is true…if this is true, sir Morris, if you in all truthfulness do not fear me, then why should you even think to mention it? Is there some question in your mind? After all, I am but a woman whereas you are a man…a man of brute strength…a man with neither fear, nor feelings…a man without a heart.

Morris: I got a heart.

Gizella: Funny, I did not see one when I looked into your eyes. I must have missed it. It must have been hiding behind the blackness of your soul.

Morris: Ok, whoa! Time out, ok? Let's just stop this craziness.

Gizella: There is no…

Morris: I said stop the craziness!

Pause. She steps back as if in total surprise.

Gizella: You are angry again.

Morris: Damned right I'm angry. I come here thinkin' I got lucky…thinkin' I got away from the cops and then I find out I'm stuck in…in some kind of fantasy land with…with…with…

Gizella: A gypsy?

Morris: Yeah, alright, whatever the hell! A gypsy! I mean, christ! You got ghosts floatin' around here, you knew my name and everything else about me before I even walked in the door. You even know stuff about me that I forget, stuff that I never talked to anybody about, ever! You…you talk in these crazy circles, I'm havin' dizzy spells and all you do is you keep goin' on about the moon and the stars like everything is normal and tellin' me I got no heart an'….damn is this rabbit ever good.

Pause. He eats. He calms down.

Gizella: Sir Morris?

Morris: Yeah?

Gizella: Did you know there are people in this world who, when a family member dies, they carry the body to a sacred mountain and leave it there for the vultures?

Morris: Hey, I'm eatin' here, ok?

Gizella: If the vultures pick the body clean then it is considered a sign of good luck for the family.

Morris ignores her. He is eating as if he is starving

Sir Morris?

Morris: I said I'm eating, ok?

Gizella: Yes…you eat.

Morris: More water.

Pause. Gizella fills his glass

Gizella: Do you believe me when I tell you that you will be successful in eluding the police.

Morris: Believe you? I'm bankin' on it.

Gizella: Do you believe me when I tell you that Lutheria walks among us?

Morris: Aww, I don't wanna talk about that stuff anymore.

Gizella: You believe in her sir Morris. I know you do.

Pause

Morris: Ok…ok, alright…I believe she's here. Happy?

Gizella: Good! Honesty, sir Morris…honesty, is always the pathway to personal freedom. Now, would you care for a change of clothing?

Morris: You're the one who knows the answer to everything, so, why don't you tell me. Do I wanna change my clothes?

Gizella: Oh sir Morris…

Morris: Just…just answer the question, ok?

Gizella: Tsk! Yes, you would like a change of clothing…the ones you have on are wet and uncomfortable. They are also a size too small for you but that is understandable…after all, they do not belong to you.

Morris: Oh, man! I'm gettin' dizzy again.

He holds the table. The room is spinning

Gizella: They found him sir Morris…they found the man you killed today.

Morris: Oh, man, this gotta stop.

Gizella: Of course, you did not have a choice did you. You had to kill him. After all you could not continue on the run wearing prison garb. You would have been too easily identified. He was walking alone…he looked to be approximately the same size as you. It was an easy kill, was it not?

Morris: Whoa…wow…this is weird.

Gizella: Are you alright?

Morris: Yeah…yeah, I'm ok. Just these dizzy spells. Weird.

Pause

Gizella: And so sir Morris, as I was saying; you killed a man for his clothes?

Morris: Humph! Yeah…yeah, I did but he wouldn't be dead now if he didn't put up such a damned fuss about it. I mean, all I wanted was his clothes. It was his own damned fault.

She gets his robe

Gizella: This is your explanation?

Morris: Yeah, so what?

Gizella: This is how you justify murdering an innocent man? You blame it on him?

Morris: You just don't get it, that's all.

Gizella: You are probably right sir Morris, because I do not get it. Maybe I should find comfort in accepting the truth that one does what they do because that is exactly what they are.

Morris: I yams what I yams.

Gizella: I beg your pardon?

Morris: Popeye. He always used to say that. I yams what I yams.

Gizella doesn't understand

What, you don't know who Popeye is?

Gizella: No, I am sorry. I have not had the pleasure.

Morris falls back in his chair. A dizzy spell.