Four by Sondheim
Page 14
Now, there are two possibilities:
A, I could ravish her,
B, I could nap.
ANNE: ... that grumpy old Mrs. Nordstrom from next door.
Her sister’s coming for a visit . . .
FREDRIK:
Say it’s the ravishment, then we see
The option
That follows, of course:
ANNE: ... do hope I’m imperious enough with the servants.
I try to be. But half the time I think they’re laughing at me...
FREDRIK:
A, the deployment of charm, or B,
The adoption
Of physical force.
Now B might arouse her,
But if I assume
I trip on my trouser
Leg crossing the room . . .
Her hair getting tangled,
Her stays getting snapped,
My nerves will be jangled,
My energy sapped . . .
Removing her clothing
Would take me all day
And her subsequent loathing
Would turn me away —
Which eliminates B
And which leaves us with A.
ANNE: Could you ever be jealous of me? ...
FREDRIK:
Now, insofar as approaching it,
What would be festive
But have its effect?
ANNE: Shall I learn Italian? I think it would be amusing, if the verbs aren’t too irregular . . .
FREDRIK:
Now, there are two ways of broaching it:
A, the suggestive
And B, the direct.
ANNE: ... but then French is a much chic-er language. Everyone says so. Parlez-vous Français? ...
FREDRIK:
Say that I settle on B, to wit,
A charmingly
Lecherous mood . . .
A, I could put on my nightshirt or sit
Disarmingly,
B, in the nude . . .
That might be effective,
My body’s all right,
But not in perspective
And not in the light...
I’m bound to be chilly
And feel a buffoon,
But nightshirts are silly
In midafternoon ...
Which leaves the suggestive,
But how to proceed?
Although she gets restive,
Perhaps I could read...
In view of her penchant
For something romantic,
De Sade is too trenchant
And Dickens too frantic,
And Stendhal would ruin
The plan of attack,
As there isn’t much blue in
The Red and the Black.
De Maupassant’s candor
Would cause her dismay.
The Brontës are grander
But not very gay.
Her taste is much blander,
I’m sorry to say,
But is Hans Christian Ander-
Sen ever risque?
Which eliminates A.
(Exits upstage)
ANNE: And he said, “You’re such a pretty lady!” Wasn’t that silly? ...
FREDRIK (As he walks back on in nothing but his long underwear):
Now, with my mental facilities
Partially muddied
And ready to snap . . .
ANNE (At the jewel box now): ... I’m sure about the bracelet.
But earrings, earrings! Which earrings? ...
FREDRIK:
Now, though there are possibilities
Still to be studied,
I might as well nap . . .
ANNE: Mother’s rubies? ... Oh, the diamonds are — Agony!
Iknow...
FREDRIK (Getting into bed):
Bow though I must
To adjust
My original plan . . .
ANNE: Desirée Armfeldt — I just know she’ll wear the most
glamorous gowns! ...
FREDRIK:
How shall I sleep
Half as deep
As I usually can? ...
ANNE: Dear, distinguished old Fredrik!
FREDRIK:
When now I still want and/or love you,
Now, as always,
Now,
Anne?
(FREDRIK turns over and goes to sleep. They remain frozen. PETRA enters the parlor)
PETRA: Nobody rang. Doesn’t he want his tea?
HENRIK (Still deep in book): They’re taking a nap.
PETRA (Coming up behind him, teasingly ruffling his hair): You smell of soap.
HENRIK (Pulling his head away): I’m reading.
PETRA (Caressing his head): Do those old teachers take a scrubbing brush to you every morning and scrub you down like a dray horse?
(Strokes his ear)
HENRIK (Fierce): Get away from me!
PETRA (Jumping up in mock alarm): Oh what a wicked woman I am! I’ll go straight to hell!
(Starting away, she goes toward the door, deliberately wing-gling her hips)
HENRIK (Looking up, even fiercer): And don’t walk like that!
PETRA (Innocent): Like — what?
(Wiggles even more)
Like this?
HENRIK (Pleadingly): Stop it. Stop it!
(He rises, goes after her, clutches her, and starts savagely, clumsily, to kiss her and fumble at her breasts. She slaps his hand)
PETRA: Careful!
(Breaks away)
That’s a new blouse! A whole week’s wages and the lace extra!
(Looks at him)
Poor little Henrik!
(Then affectionately pats his cheek)
Later! You’ll soon get the knack of it!
(She exits. HENRIK puts down the book, gets his cello and begins to sing, accompanying himself on the cello)
HENRIK:
Later . . .
When is later? ...
All you ever hear is “Later, Henrik! Henrik, later . . .”
“Yes, we know, Henrik.
Oh, Henrik —
Everyone agrees, Henrik —
Please, Henrik!”
You have a thought you’re fairly bursting with,
A personal discovery or problem, and it’s
“What’s your rush, Henrik?
Shush, Henrik —
Goodness, how you gush, Henrik —
Hush, Henrik!”
You murmur,
“I only . . .
It’s just that...
For God’s sake!”
“Later, Henrik . . .”
“Henrik” ...
Who is “Henrik”? ...
Oh, that lawyer’s son, the one who mumbles —
Short and boring,
Yes, he’s hardly worth ignoring
And who cares if he’s all dammed —
(Looks up)
— I beg your pardon —
Up inside?
As I’ve
Often stated,
It’s intolerable
Being tolerated.
“Reassure Henrik,
Poor Henrik.
Henrik, you’ll endure
Being pure, Henrik.”
Though I’ve been born, I’ve never been!
How can I wait around for later?
I’ll be ninety on my deathbed
And the late, or rather later,
Henrik Egerman!
Doesn’t anything begin?
(ANNE, in the bedroom, gets up from the vanity table and stands near the bed, singing to FREDRIK)
ANNE:
Soon, I promise.
Soon I won’t shy away,
Dear old —
(She bites her lip)
Soon. I want to.
Soon, whatever you say.
Even now,
When you’re close and we touch,
And you’re kissing my brow,
I don’t mind it too m
uch.
And you’ll have to admit
I’m endearing,
I help keep things humming,
I’m not domineering,
What’s one small shortcoming?
And think of how I adore you,
Think of how much you love me.
If I were perfect for you,
Wouldn’t you tire of me
Soon,
All too soon?
Dear old —
(The sound of HENRIK’s cello. FREDRIK stirs noisily in bed. ANNE goes into the parlor)
Henrik! That racket! Your father’s sleeping!
(She remains, half-innocent, half-coquettish, in her negligee. For a second, ANNE watches him. She closes her nightgown at the neck and goes back into the bedroom)
ANNE (Back at the bed):
Soon —
HENRIK:
“Later” ...
ANNE:
I promise.
HENRIK:
When is “later?”
(Simultaneously)
ANNE: HENRIK:
Soon “Later, Henrik, later.”
I won’t shy Away, All you ever hear is, “Yes, we know, Henrik, oh, Henrik,
Dear old — Everyone agrees, Henrik, please, Henrik!”
(FREDRIK stirs. Simultaneously)
ANNE:
Soon. HENRIK: FREDRIK:
I want to. “Later” ... Now,
When is “later”? As the sweet imbecilities
All you ever Trip on my trouser leg,
Soon,
Hear is
Whatever you
Say. “Later, Henrik,
Stendhal eliminates
Later.” A,
As I’ve often
Stated: But
When? When?
Even Maybe Maybe
Now,
When you’re dose Soon, soon Later.
And we touch I’ll be ninety
And
And you’re kissing Dead. When I’m kissing
My brow, Your brow
I don’t mind it I don’t mind it And I’m stroking your head,
Too much, Too much,
You’ll come into my bed.
And you’ll have to admit Since I have to Admit And you have to Admit
I’m endearing, I find peering I’ve been hearing
I help
Keep things Through life’s All those tremulous cries
Humming, I’m Gray windows
Impatiently Patiently,
Not domineering, Not very cheering. Not interfering
What’s one small Do I fear death? With those tremulous thighs.
Shortcoming? Let it
And Come to me Come to me
Think of how Now, Soon,
I adore you,
Think of how Now, Soon,
Much you love me.
If I were perfect Now, Soon,
For you,
Wouldn’t you tire Now. Soon.
Of me
Later? Come to me Come to me
Soon. If I’m Soon,
Dead,
We will, I can
Later. Wait. Straight to me, never mind
How can I How.
We will... Live until Darling,
Soon. Later? Now —
I still want and/ or
Later... Love
You,
Soon.
Now, as
Later... Always,
Soon. Now,
(He does a kiss)
Desirée.
(ANNE stares out, astonished, as the lights go down and the bedroom and parlor roll off. FREDRIKA, still at the piano, is playing scales)
FREDRIKA (Sings):
Ordinary mothers lead ordinary lives:
Keep the house and sweep the parlor,
Cook the meals and look exhausted.
Ordinary mothers, like ordinary wives,
Fry the eggs and dry the sheets and
Try to deal with facts.
Mine acts.
(DESIRÉE sweeps on with MALLA, her maid, in tow. MALLA carries a wig box, suitcase, and parasol)
DESIREE (As FREDRIKA reads a letter from her):
Darling, I miss you a lot
But, darling, this has to be short
As Mother is getting a plaque
From the Halsingborg Arts Council
Amateur Theatre Group.
Whether it’s funny or not,
I’ll give you a fuller report
The minute they carry me back
From the Halsingborg Arts Council
Amateur Theatre Group...
Love you . . .
(The QUINTET appears)
QUINTET:
Unpack the luggage, la la la
Pack up the luggage, la la la
Unpack the luggage, la la la
Hi-ho, the glamorous life!
MRS. SEGSTROM:
Ice in the basin, la la la
MR. ERLANSON:
Cracks in the plaster, la la la
MRS. ANDERSSEN:
Mice in the hallway, la la la
ALL THE QUINTET:
Hi-ho, the glamorous life!
MEN:
Run for the carriage, la la la
WOMEN:
Wolf down the sandwich, la la la
ALL THE QUINTET:
Which town is this one? La la la
Hi-ho, the glamorous life!
(FRID wheels MADAME ARMFELDT onstage)
MADAME ARMFELDT:
Ordinary daughters ameliorate their lot,
Use their charms and choose their futures,
Breed their children, heed their mothers.
Ordinary daughters, which mine, I fear, is not,
Tend each asset, spend it wisely
While it still endures . . .
Mine tours.
DESIRÉE (As MADAME ARMFELDT reads a letter from her):
Mother, forgive the delay,
My schedule is driving me wild.
But, Mother, I really must run,
I’m performing in Rottvik,
And don’t ask where is it, please.
How are you feeling today
And are you corrupting the child?
Don’t. Mother, the minute I’m done
With performing in Rottvik,
I’ll come for a visit
And argue.
MEN:
Mayors with speeches, la la la
WOMEN:
Children with posies, la la la
MEN:
Half-empty houses, la la la
ALL THE QUINTET:
Hi-ho, the glamorous life!
MRS. NORDSTROM:
Cultural lunches,
ALL THE QUINTET:
La la la
MRS. ANDERSSEN:
Dead floral tributes,
ALL THE QUINTET:
La la la
MR. LINDQUIST :
Ancient admirers,
ALL THE QUINTET:
La la la
Hi-ho, the glamorous life!
FREDRIKA:
Mother’s romantic, la la la
MADAME ARMFELDT:
Mother’s misguided, la la la
DESIRÉE:
Mother’s surviving, la la la
Leading the glamorous life!
(Holds up a mirror)
Cracks in the plaster, la la la
Youngish admirers, la la la
Which one was that one? La la la
Hi-ho, the glamorous life!
DESIRÉE and QUINTET:
Bring up the curtain, la la la
Bring down the curtain, la la la
Bring up the curtain, la la la
Hi-ho, the glamorous . . .
Life.
Scene 2
STAGE OF LOCAL THEATER
The show curtain is down. Two stage boxes are visible. Sitting in one are MR. LINDQUIST, MRS. NORDSTROM, and MR. ERLANSON. ANNE and FREDRIK enter and speak as they walk to their box.
> ANNE: Does she look like her pictures?
FREDRIK: Who, dear?
ANNE: Desirée Armfeldt, of course.
FREDRIK: How would I know, dear?
ANNE (Pause): I only thought . . .
FREDRIK: You only thought — what?
ANNE: Desirée is not a common name. I mean, none of your typists and things are called Desirée, are they?
FREDRIK: My typists and things in descending order of importance are Miss Osa Svensen, Miss Ona Nilsson, Miss Gerda Bjornson, and Mrs. Amalia Lindquist.
(A PAGE enters, and knocks three times with the staff he is carrying. The show curtain rises revealing the stage behind it, a tatty Louis XIV “salon, ” as PAGE exits. For a moment it is empty. Then two LADIES, in rather shabby court costumes, enter)
FIRST LADY (MRS. SEGSTROM): Tell me something about this remarkable Countess, Madame.
SECOND LADY (MRS. ANDERSSEN): I shall try as best I can to depict the personality of the Countess, Madame, although it is too rich in mysterious contradictions to be described in a few short moments.
FIRST LADY: It is said that her power over men is most extraordinary.
SECOND LADY: There is a great deal of truth in that, Madame, and her lovers are as many as the pearls in the necklace which she always wears.
FIRST LADY: Your own husband, Madame, is supposed to be one of the handsomest pearls, is he not?
SECOND LADY: He fell in love with the Countess on sight. She took him as a lover for three months and after that I had him back.
FIRST LADY: And your marriage was crushed?
SECOND LADY: On the contrary, Madame! My husband had become a tender, devoted, admirable lover, a faithful husband and an exemplary father. The Countess’s lack of decency is most moral.
(The PAGE re-enters)
PAGE: The Countess Celimène de Francen de la Tour de Casa.
(The COUNTESS — DESIRÉE — makes her sensational entrance. A storm of applause greets her. FREDRIK claps. ANNE does not as she glares at the stage. During the applause, DESIRÉE makes a deep curtsey, during which, old pro that she is, she cases the house. Her eye falls on FREDRIK. She does a take and instantly all action freezes)