Plays 2 Read online

  Ow. My head.

  Mongicourt That’s right. They all say that.

  Petypon Is it light yet?

  Mongicourt Still a glimmer left…

  Petypon Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy … (To him.) Oh wow.

  Mongicourt Wow indeed.

  Étienne Shall I help you up, Monsieur?

  Petypon (irritably) Étienne, don’t bother me!

  Étienne Monsieur, you can’t lie there all day.

  Petypon And why not, pray? If I like it there? I lay down here on purpose … minutes ago, seconds ago … My decision. No one else’s. Mine.

  Étienne Yes, Monsieur. (Aside.) Oh dear, oh dear.

  Petypon gets up, helped by Mongicourt.

  Petypon And now I’m getting up. My decision. No one else’s. If that’s all right with you.

  Étienne Of course, Monsieur. (Aside. People get so grouchy under sofas.

  Petypon (to Mongicourt) This is highly embarrassing. Ow. My head.

  Étienne Shall I serve breakfast now, Monsieur?

  Petypon Ugh. No. How do people eat breakfast?

  Étienne I couldn’t say, Monsieur.

  Petypon Where’s Madame?

  Étienne Madame went out, Monsieur. To Father Dominic, Monsieur.

  Mongicourt Still hoping for enlightenment?

  Petypon You’ve no idea. Now she’s seeing things. (To Étienne.) You: go.

  Étienne Yes, Monsieur. (Aside. We are in a mood today.

  Exit. Petypon cradles his aching head in his hands.

  Mongicourt Bad, is it?

  Petypon (throwing his eyes up to heaven) Ee-ooooo …

  He drags himself to a chair and sits on it.

  Mongicourt I warned you. His Lordship demanded to see the world. Step out … flutter his wings…

  Petypon You snake in the grass! You dragged me round those dens of vice.

  Mongicourt Thanks very much.

  Petypon D’you think I’d have dreamt of it, left on my own? No, no: you said to yourself ‘There’s a simple, purehearted man, a scholar. Let’s take his innocence and snap it, like a butterfly on a wheel.’

  Mongicourt All I said was, ‘Lucien, I’m dying of thirst. We’ve just spent two hours in surgery. Complicated case. Before we go home, let’s go for a little drink.’

  Petypon So where did you take me? Maxim’s.

  Mongicourt ‘A little drink,’ I said. You were the one who … When did you get home?

  Petypon God knows.

  Mongicourt The quiet ones are the worst. I tried to prise you loose. You wouldn’t budge.

  Petypon So you slithered away and left me. Snake in the grass.

  Mongicourt I practise self-control. Ration myself. That’s the secret – knowing when to stop.

  He sits on the pouffe.

  Look at us. Me – as you see me, now. You – asleep under the sofa.

  Petypon Don’t rub it in.

  Mongicourt By eight o’clock I was visiting my patients. By eleven, I’d seen everyone on the list, including the man we operated on yesterday…

  Petypon How is he?

  Mongicourt No further complications.

  He takes out his cigarette case.

  Petypon Recovering?

  Mongicourt Dead.

  He takes out a cigarette.

  Petypon Drat.

  Mongicourt What did you expect?

  Petypon I said it was profitless to operate.

  Mongicourt No operations are ever profidess. They may not profit the patient, but they always profit the surgeon.

  Petypon You’re a cynic.

  Mongicourt A professional.

  He strikes a match. Petypon leaps to his feet and blows it out.

  Petypon No, no. Pffffff.

  Mongicourt Now what?

  Petypon Don’t smoke. Please, I beg you, don’t smoke.

  Mongicourt That bad, is it?

  Petypon What a way to wake up … My head. Ow. And my mouth. Mniam, mniam, mniam.

  Mongicourt Classic symptoms.

  Petypon You think it’s medical?

  Mongicourt Fur-in-the-mouth.

  Petypon Ah.

  Mongicourt In Latin, hangoveria.

  Petypon Yes. Or in Greek …

  Mongicourt No idea.

  Petypon Me neither.

  He collapses on the pouffe.

  Mongicourt You really knocked it back last night.

  Petypon Say that again.

  Mongicourt The Curse of Drink.

  Petypon No, the Curse of Knowledge. I said to myself: ‘A scholar should try everything.’

  Mongicourt He gave his all for Science.

  Petypon And now look at me.

  Mongicourt These are early stages.

  Petypon I’m limp. Legs, arms, limp. Quite useless.

  Mongicourt Classic hangoveria.

  Petypon It isn’t fair.

  Gabrielle (off) Up at last! Thank goodness. Oh, Étienne, take this shopping. Mind that one, it’s fragile. (Etc.)

  Petypon My God, my wife! Quick, tell me: can you tell that I’ve …? Do I look as if I’ve …?

  Mongicourt Hardly at all.

  Petypon Ah.

  Mongicourt You could tell her you were out at a funeral –

  Petypon What?

  Mongicourt Yours. She might believe you.

  Petypon Thanks. Just a moment … If I … (He runs his hands through his hair, trying to look alert and awake.) Does that …? Is there any …?

  Mongicourt I shouldn’t bother.

  Enter Gabrielle. She runs to Petypon.

  Gabrielle Ah there you are, darling. Up at last. You really have slept in. Good morning, darling.

  She frames his face in her hands to kiss him, and jolts his fragile head.

  Petypon Good morning, Gab … oh .…

  Gabrielle Édouard, good morning.

  Mongicourt (with a flourish) Madame, your servant.

  Gabrielle turns Petypon to face her.

  Gabrielle Let me look at you a moment … No, you don’t look yourself at all.

  Petypon Don’t you think so? I don’t know what’s the matter. I feel … oh, I can’t tell you how I feel.

  Gabrielle You’re green. (To Mongicourt.) What’s wrong with him, Édouard?

  Mongicourt (with professional gravity) Gabrielle, I’m glad you asked. He’s suffering from … hangoveria. Extensiva.

  Petypon (groaning) Oh.

  Gabrielle Dear God, he hasn’t …?

  Mongicourt (sombrely) Gabrielle, I’m afraid he has.

  Gabrielle It’s serious?

  Mongicourt He’ll live: I can promise you that.

  Gabrielle Oh, thank you. (To Petypon.) Poor darling … you’ve got hangoveria.

  Petypon If Édouard says so.

  Gabrielle We’ll have to look after you. (To Mongicourt.) What can we give him? A pick-me-up? A glass of brandy?

  Petypon (a shout of anguish) No, no. (With a shudder.) Not alcohol.

  Gabrielle (returning) What would you recommend, Édouard?

  Mongicourt (importantly) Ah, Gabrielle. The usual treatment is syrup-of-figs and vinegar.

  Gabrielle Syrup of figs. Vinegar. Just a minute.

  She makes to go out.

  Petypon Hey, no. (Aside to Mongicourt.) What’re you trying to do to me …?

  Mongicourt (taking pity) Fortunately, Lucien has already passed into the secondary stage, the abatement period…

  Gabrielle Thank God.

  Mongicourt A hot drink, perhaps. For us all, perhaps. Lemon tea, perhaps.

  Gabrielle (going upstage) I’ll ring for Étienne.

  Mongicourt (mocking, to Petypon) That better?

  Petypon (to him) You know I detest lemon tea.

  Gabrielle (cheerfully, to Petypon) I’d never have believed you could wake up in this state. This morning you were sleeping so peacefully. You didn’t even notice when I kissed you.

  Petypon (stunned) What d’you mean? You … you …

  Gabrielle Youyou? What do you mean, youyo
u?

  Petypon You … you kissed me?

  Gabrielle Yes.

  Petypon In bed?

  Gabrielle Well, naturally. You were fast asleep, rolled up in blankets. All I could see was the top of your head. I kissed it. You do seem surprised.

  Petypon (stunned) What? No.

  Gabrielle (starting to go again) Étienne’s not coming. I’ll fetch the tea.

  Mongicourt (going to the door with her) I think he needs it.

  Exit Gabrielle.

  Petypon She kissed me in my bed … and I was under the sofa.

  Mongicourt Baffling.

  He sits down, to think better.

  Petypon Well?

  Mongicourt I said it was baffling.

  Petypon (collapsing on sofa) Sleepwalking? Can’t have been.

  Pause. Suddenly a long, noisy yawn is heard from the bedroom.

  Voice Aoooooahahahahaha.

  Petypon Pardon?

  Mongicourt I didn’t speak.

  Petypon You went ‘Aoooooahahahahaha’.

  Mongicourt No I didn’t.

  Petypon You must have done.

  Voice (yawning again) Ahooo. Ooooaha.

  Petypon (getting up) Good God.

  Mongicourt (getting up) You said it.

  Voice Aaaaooooaaaah. Ah. Ooooah.

  Petypon It’s coming from my bedroom.

  Mongicourt Entirely.

  They rush to the curtains at the back.

  Petypon There’s someone in there.

  They pull back the curtains. Lying on the bed in a shift and little ehe is a girl with a fresh countenance and blonde hair cut short.

  Petypon and Mongicourt Ooooops.

  Shrimp (sitting up) Hello boys.

  Petypon (thunderstruck, to Mongicourt) Who is she?

  Mongicourt (vastly amused) Well, well, old man. Well, well, well, well, well.

  Petypon (beside himself) What? Not. Nothing of the kind. Don’t be ridiculous. (To Shrimp.) Mamzelle … who are you? Where did you spring from?

  Shrimp Don’t be silly. You know exactly where I sprang from.

  Petypon (indignantly) I’ve never seen you before in my life. Why are you in my bed?

  Shrimp Oh, come on. (To Mongicourt.) ‘Why am I in his bed …?’

  Mongicourt He really wants to know.

  Petypon Of course I want to know. (Funously to Mongicourt.) Must you laugh like that? This isn’t funny. (To Shrimp.) Come on, who are you? And how did you get here?

  Shrimp Who d’you think you are, a judge? I’m Shrimp …

  Mongicourt The Folies-Bergère, that dancer …

  Shrimp (patting his cheek) Aren’t you the clever one.

  Mongicourt I say.

  Shrimp Well, cleverer than him. He remembers nothing. The champagne … the cab-ride home … the sofa … the bedroom …

  Petypon (aghast) What …? We didn’t. You, me … We can’t have …

  Shrimp Nice place you’ve got here.

  Petypon (suddenly) Oh my God!

  Mongicourt and Shrimp (who has got out of bed) Now what?

  Petypon That kiss. On the head. In my bed. It was her.

  Mongicourt (in a sepukhral tone) That kiss … was her.

  Petypon Gabrielle kissed her head, in my bed.

  Mongicourt Well, well, well, well, well.

  They stand as though transfixed. Shrimp has meanwhile put on undergarments, and comes to look at them with mocking eyes.

  Shrimp What a pair of bookends.

  With a music-hall dancer’s ease, she high-kicks over the back of a chair.

  ‘Houp-la. This one’s for me.’

  She sits on the sofa and stretches out her legs. Petypon rushes to her.

  Petypon Get up. You can’t do that. You have to go. Someone might come. I’m a scholar. You can’t stay here.

  Shrimp Aren’t you sweet? (She chucks him under the chin.)

  Petypon What are you doing?

  Shrimp (singing) ‘She was only a bird in a gilded cage …’ (She makes eyes at him.)

  Petypon Stop that at once. Get dressed at once.

  Gabrielle (off) What? I don’t know. Lemons. Try the vegetable market. You’ve got the money? Just a minute … (Etc.)

  Petypon (loudly) Good grief.

  Mongicourt (the same) Good grief.

  Petypon (dragging Shrimp to the bedroom) Hide. You have to hide.

  Mongicourt (helping him) Come on.

  Shrimp What’s the matter?

  Petypon (pushing her into the bedroom) Just hide.

  He and Mongicourt close the curtains and quickly turn, trying to look innocent, as Gabrielle enters with the tea on a tray. She fusses wih the tea, and doesn’t look at them.

  Gabrielle Here’s the tea. I’ve sent Étienne out for some lemon.

  While she isn’t looking, Petypon and Mongicourt try to hiss the explanation through the curtain to Shrimp.

  Petypon My wife … Madame Petypon, my wife.

  Mongicourt His wife … Madame Petypon, his wife.

  Gabrielle turns and hears.

  Gabrielle What are you doing? We don’t need to be introduced. We know each other.

  Mongicourt (going to shake her hand) Good morning again, Gabrielle.

  Petypon (to her) You don’t understand. You didn’t let me finish. (To Gabrielle.) Madame Petypon, my wife … I mean, Gabrielle, darling, don’t you find it hot in here?

  Gabrielle No.

  Petypon Yes it is, it is. (He grabs her hand.) We’ll go for a walk. Yes, we’ll go for a walk.

  Gabrielle I’ve been for a walk.

  Petypon So you’re in practice. Come on!

  But he loses his grip, and she staggers away, spinning round and folding, for support, the chair where Shrimp’s dress is lying.

  Gabrielle What’s this on the chair?

  Petypon What?

  Gabrielle It looks like a dress.

  Petypon Oh God.

  Mongicourt Oops again.

  Gabrielle What’s it doing in here? When did it arrive?

  Petypon No idea. Not last night. Definitely not last night. This morning. They delivered it this morning. Didn’t they, Édouard? (Irritated, to him.) For heaven’s sake, speak!

  Mongicourt What? (Loudly.) Oh, absolutely.

  Petypon (to Gabrielle) They made a mistake. It’s the wrong house. They came to the wrong house. I’ll send it back.

  He grabs the dress and makes for the door. Gabrielle still has hold, so he is pulled up short and dragged back to her.

  Gabrielle No, no, it’s right.

  Petypon Pardon?

  Gabrielle It shouldn’t have come to you, that’s all.

  Petypon What?

  Gabrielle I’ve just written her a note.

  Petypon Her a note? Who a note?

  Gabrielle My dressmaker. She was supposed to deliver it yesterday.

  Petypon Impossible. No, no, no. Not yours. Wrong style. I mean … Give it to me. Give it to me.

  Gabrielle (resisting) Let go. Of course it’s my style. ‘You choose,’ I say to her. ‘You know my style: you choose.’ I agree it is a bit…

  Petypon Yes, yes. Entirely. (Pulling the dress) I’ll have it altered.

  Gabrielle It’s all right. It’s fine. (She pulls it away from him.) The way you handle clothes …

  Exit with the dress.

  Petypon That’s torn it.

  Mongicourt Phut. Gone, vanished, disappeared, removed, abstracted … phut.

  Petypon That’s easy for you to say. What are we going to do?

  Shrimp stich her head out.

  Shrimp Has she gone? Coast clear?

  Petypon Oh God, now the other one.

  He hurries up to her.

  Shrimp You never told me you were married. Bad boy.

  She pinches his nose. He pulls himself free.

  Petypon I’b dot … I mean, I’m not having any more of this. Out this minute. Out.

  Shrimp Don’t be nasty. You were much nicer yesterday.

  Petypon Well, tod
ay I’m nasty. Out. Go on, quick march.

  Shrimp You might at least say please.

  Petypon Don’t be ridiculous. Get on with it.

  Shrimp I’m nice to you, why can’t you be nice to me?

  Petypon (beside himself) For heaven’s sake get on with it. Stop fiddling and faddling. Get on with it.

  Shrimp I’m not ready.

  Petypon Arrrgh. (He points to the door and roars.) OU-OU-OUT.

  Shrimp sits on the sofa, leans back, stretches her legs.

  Shrimp You’re not very good at this. I’m used to people who treat ladies with respect.

  Petypon (thinking he understands) Ah. Respect. Fine. Excellent. (Taking out his wallet.) How much respect?

  Shrimp Now what are you doing?

  Petypon (pompously) It’s not what I’m doing, my girl. It’s what you’re doing. Or what you’re going to do. How much to go away?

  Shrimp (mocking) You really are bad at this. (Getting up.) Are you trying to insult me?

  Petypon Me? Good heavens!

  Shrimp Well, fortunately I’m not insulted. And I don’t want paying.

  Petypon Oh. Fine. (Replacing his wallet.) Excellent. (He shakes her hand.) You are a pal.

  He starts pushing her towards the door.

  See you around – perhaps.

  Shrimp I mean, I don’t want paying. Now, if you gave me a present …

  Petypon Ah.

  Shrimp I mean, we don’t want this gendeman to think …

  Mongicourt Oh, I don’t think.

  Petypon (taking out his wallet again) All I want is peace and quiet. Here. (He gives money to Shrimp.) Ten francs.

  Shrimp Ten francs. Oh good, I can tip the cab-driver.

  Petypon What cab-driver?

  Shrimp The one with the horse. Hay-money.

  Petypon Good heavens, ten francs are what I charge. My patients: one consulation, ten francs.

  Shrimp You don’t half fancy yourself.

  Mongicourt (laughing) That’s right, Lucien. You don’t half fancy yourself.

  Shrimp Hey, none of that. I can talk proper if I want to. (She declaims:)

  ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud

  That floats on high o’er vales and hills

  When all at once I saw …’

  Mongicourt By Jove, I think she’s got it.

  Shrimp I can go on like that for hours. (To Petypon, in a pathetic, put-upon voice.) I could have been a schoolteacher. Nearly was, if that inspector hadn’t taken advantage. (She is becoming melodramatic.)

  Mongicourt What inspector?

  Shrimp (brokenly) He promised to marry me.

  Petypon takes her arm and leads her to the door.

  Petypon Yes, very interesting. But you can tell us your life story some other time.