The play is set in the
apartment of an average man—that is to say, a part-time philosopher. There are bookshelves, tables,
comfortable chairs. Just before
the play begins, this Average Man has a friend come to call—another part-time
philosopher.
Average Man 1 (the
host): You must excuse me, I’m
very agitated at the moment
Average Man 2 (the
visitor): About what?
Host: About (he holds up an ornate key) this
key!
Visitor (cheerfully): Well, you don’t appear to have lost it!
Host (ruefully): No. No, but I can’t make it open what it’s supposed to open.
Visitor: And what’s that?
Host (patiently): You don’t understand. This (he holds it up) is the Key to
Everything!
Visitor (impressed): So go ahead and open something. A door maybe? A drawer? Or wind one of your clocks!
Host (suddenly despondent):
You don’t see what I mean.
Visitor: Then explain it to
me.
Host: This is the Key to
Everything, not just to anything.
Visitor (impressed): So it unlocks the meaning of all meaning,
of
all property, all probity,
all conundra ? It makes splicable the inexplicable? It looses the bonds of the
goddess of transcendence and sees her shining robes fall thinly to the ground?
Host (impatient): Yes, yes.
Visitor: So what’s the problem?
Host (enraged): I don’t know where the goddam keyhole
is!!
(curtain)
