PROFESSOR. No, it doesn’t just seem that way, that’s the way it really is. So there is nowhere to run away to.
WIFE. The years will pass like peas in a pod, but each one uglier than the one before. The end will come, and I’ll ask myself, what did I live for? Did I ever live at all?
PROFESSOR. My dear, life does not and cannot have any meaning, except for the continuation of life. In other words, the meaning of life is sex. Sex is the affirmation, continuation and celebration of life. You and I are ants, and nature does not care about each separate ant. Its goal is to preserve the anthill.
WIFE. I despise the human anthill.
PROFESSOR. An anthill? That’s an undeserved compliment for our society. Ants work together in harmony, while we are a society of competitors, where everybody is wolf to each other.
WIFE. I don’t know how to solve my problems anymore.
PROFESSOR. Don’t complicate things. All problems come from sex. Happy sex – happy life, bad sex – unhappy life. That's all. Is your sex life good?
WIFE. No.
PROFESSOR. And the rest of your life?
WIFE. No.
PROFESSOR. Q.E.D.
WIFE. That’s why I want to run away. Away from this life.
PROFESSOR. To tell the truth, so do I. Who will you run away with?
WIFE. Alone.... But it would be better with somebody.
PROFESSOR. Together is certainly better.
WIFE. Why don’t we run away together?
PROFESSOR. I am asking myself the same question.
WIFE. And what is your answer?
PROFESSOR. Let’s do it. That’s what I offered to do when I first got here.
WIFE. You offered to have sex when you first got here.
PROFESSOR. Sex is just an escape from life.
WIFE. I thought it was life itself.
PROFESSOR. Let’s not argue. We don’t have much time.
WIFE. So you’ll take me with you?
PROFESSOR. I’ll abduct you, steal you, take you away, carry you away in my arms.
WIFE. Where to?
PROFESSOR. Nowhere.
WIFE. That’s the problem.
PROFESSOR. But we have to run away all the same.
WIFE. Where to?
PROFESSOR. That’s not important. The main thing is not to stop. Not to think. Not to look back. Give me your hand.
WIFE. Right now?
PROFESSOR. Otherwise someone will come and it will be too late.
WIFE. Then wait here, I’ll just get some things to take with me.
WIFE leaves. Pause. GIRL enters.
GIRL. Let’s have sex.
PROFESSOR. So it was you who called me?
GIRL. Me? Called you? What for?
PROFESSOR. To have sex, I believe.
GIRL. No, it wasn’t me. But I’m ready.
PROFESSOR. So who called me?
GIRL. If someone wanted to have sex, just presume it was me that called. A very urgent call. Let's start immediately.
PROFESSOR. That’s just what I wanted to suggest. Who are you, by the way?
GIRL. I work with the husband.
PROFESSOR. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
GIRL. Whether it’s a pleasure or not, we’ll soon find out, I hope. (Starts to unbutton her dress.)
PROFESSOR. And why don’t you have sex with the husband?
GIRL. With whose husband?
PROFESSOR. With yours, for a change.
GIRL. I don’t have a husband.
PROFESSOR. But you work with him!
GIRL. I work with him, but he is not my husband.
PROFESSOR. That changes things completely. If he isn’t your husband, it is simply your duty to have unlimited sex with him. Especially since you work together. It’s very convenient and saves time.
GIRL. Unfortunately, he’s terribly busy.
PROFESSOR. Busy? At work!? With what? Impossible! What can keep a person busy at work?
GIRL. Sex, of course.
