Four by Sondheim

by Stephen Sondheim

  Just when I’d stopped

  Opening doors,

  Finally knowing

  The one that I wanted was yours,

  Making my entrance again

  With my usual flair,

  Sure of my lines,

  No one is there.

  (FREDRIK rises)

  Don’t you love farce?

  My fault, I fear.

  I thought that you’d want what I want —

  Sorry, my dear.

  But where are the clowns?

  Quick, send in the clowns.

  Don’t bother, they’re here.

  FREDRIK: Desirée, I’m sorry. I should never have come. To flirt with rescue when one has no intention of being saved ... Do try to forgive me.

  (He exits)

  DESIRÉE:

  Isn’t it rich?

  Isn’t it queer?

  Losing my timing this late

  In my career?

  And where are the clowns?

  There ought to be clowns.

  Well, maybe next year ...

  (The lights iris out on DESIRÉE)

  Scene 7

  THE TREES

  As DESIRÉE’s bedroom goes off, HENRIK emerges from the house, carrying a rope. He runs downstage with it. ANNE and FREDRIKA run on; when HENRIK hears them, he runs behind a tree to hide.

  ANNE (As she runs on): Henrik!

  (To FREDRIKA)

  Oh, I’m quite puffed! Where can he be?

  (Noticing FREDRIKA ’s solemn face)

  Poor child, that face! Don’t look so solemn. Where would you go if you were he?

  FREDRIKA: Well, the summer pavilion? And then, of course, there’s the stables.

  ANNE: Then you go to the stables and I’ll take the summer pavilion.

  (Laughing)

  Run!

  (She starts off)

  Isn’t this exciting after that stodgy old dinner!

  (They run off, and HENRIK runs back on. He stops at the tree, stands on the marble bench, and, after circling the noose around his neck, throws the other end of the rope up to the tree limb. ANNE can be heard calling “Henrik!” HENRIK falls with a loud thud, as ANNE enters)

  ANNE: What an extraordinary ... ! Oh, Henrik — how comical you look!

  (Pulling him up by the noose still around his neck)

  Oh, no! You didn’t!

  (Pause)

  For me?

  (She gently removes the noose from his neck)

  Oh, my poor darling Henrik.

  (She throws herself into his arms)

  Oh, my poor boy! Oh, those eyes, gazing at me like a lost Saint Bernard ...

  (They start to kiss passionately)

  HENRIK: I love you! I’ve actually said it!

  ANNE (Returning his kisses passionately): Oh how scatterbrained I was never to have realized. Not Fredrik ... not poor old Fredrik ... not Fredrik at all!

  (They drop down onto the ground and start to make passionate love. The trees wipe them out, revealing PETRA and FRID. FRID is asleep)

  PETRA (Sings):

  I shall marry the miller’s son,

  Pin my hat on a nice piece of property.

  Friday nights, for a bit of fun,

  We’ll go dancing.

  Meanwhile ...

  It’s a wink and a wiggle

  And a giggle in the grass

  And I’ll trip the light Fandango,

  A pinch and a diddle

  In the middle of what passes by.

  It’s a very short road

  From the pinch and the punch

  To the paunch and the pouch and the pension.

  It’s a very short road

  To the ten-thousandth lunch

  And the belch and the grouch and the sigh.

  In the meanwhile,

  There are mouths to be kissed

  Before mouths to be fed,

  And a lot in between

  In the meanwhile.

  And a girl ought to celebrate what passes by.

  Or I shall marry the businessman,

  Five fat babies and lots of security.

  Friday nights, if we think we can,

  We’ll go dancing.

  Meanwhile ...

  It’s a push and a fumble

  And a tumble in the sheets

  And I’ll foot the Highland Fancy,

  A dip in the butter

  And a flutter with what meets my eye.

  It’s a very short fetch

  From the push and the whoop

  To the squint and the stoop and the mumble.

  It’s not much of a stretch

  To the cribs and the croup

  And the bosoms that droop and go dry.

  In the meanwhile,

  There are mouths to be kissed

  Before mouths to be fed,

  And there’s many a tryst

  And there’s many a bed

  To be sampled and seen

  In the meanwhile.

  And a girl has to celebrate what passes by.

  Or I shall marry the Prince of Wales —

  Pearls and servants and dressing for festivals.

  Friday nights, with him all in tails,

  We’ll have dancing.

  Meanwhile ...

  It’s a rip in the bustle

  And a rustle in the hay

  And I’ll pitch the Quick Fantastic,

  With flings of confetti

  And my petticoats away up high.

  It’s a very short way

  From the fling that’s for fun

  To the thigh pressing under the table.

  It’s very short day

  Till you’re stuck with just one

  Or it has to be done on the sly.

  In the meanwhile,

  There are mouths to be kissed

  Before mouths to be fed,

  And there’s many a tryst

  And there’s many a bed.

  There’s a lot I’ll have missed

  But I’ll not have been dead when I die!

  And a person should celebrate everything

  Passing by.

  And I shall marry the miller’s son.

  (She smiles, as the lights fade on her)

  Scene 8

  ARMFELDT HOUSE AND GARDEN

  FREDRIKA is lying on the grass reading. MADAME ARMFELDT is seated in a huge wingchair upstage. DESIRÉE, on the bed, is writing in her diary. CARL-MAGNUS paces on the terrace and then goes into the house. MRS. SEGSTROM and MR. LINDQUIST are behind trees, MR. ERLANSON and MRS. ANDERSSEN are behind opposite trees. CHARLOTTE sits downstage on a bench. After a beat, FREDRIK enters, sees the figure on the bench. Is it ANNE? He hurries toward her.

  FREDRIK: Anne? — Oh, forgive me, Countess. I was looking for my wife.

  CHARLOTTE (Looking up, through sobs): Oh, Mr. Egerman, how can I face you after that exhibition at dinner? Throwing myself at your head!

  FREDRIK: On the contrary, I found it most morale-building.

  (Sits down next to her)

  It’s not often these days that a beautiful woman does me that honor.

  CHARLOTTE: I didn’t.

  FREDRIK: I beg your pardon?

  CHARLOTTE: I didn’t do you that honor. It was just a charade. A failed charade! In my madness I thought I could make my husband jealous.

  FREDRIK: I’m afraid marriage isn’t one of the easier relationships, is it?

  CHARLOTTE: Mr. Egerman, for a woman it’s impossible!

  FREDRIK: It’s not all that possible for men.

  CHARLOTTE: Men! Look at you — a man of an age when a woman is lucky if a drunken alderman pinches her derriere at a village fete! And yet, you have managed to acquire the youngest, prettiest ... I hate you being happy. I hate anyone being happy!

  (HENRIK and ANNE emerge from the house, carrying suitcases. They start stealthily downstage)

  HENRIK: The gig should be ready at the stables.

  ANNE (Giggling): Oh Henrik, darling, I do hope the horses will be s
mart. I so detest riding in a gig when the horses are not smart.

  (HENRIK stops, pulls her to him. They kiss)

  MRS. SEGSTROM (Turns, looking onstage, sings):

  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...?

  HENRIK: Let all the birds nest in my hair!

  ANNE: Silly Henrik! Quick, or we’ll miss the train!

  (They are now downstage. Unaware of FREDRIK and CHARLOTTE, they move past them. For a long moment, FREDRIK and CHARLOTTE sit, while FREDRIK world tumbles around his ears)

  CHARLOTTE: It was, wasn’t it?

  FREDRIK: It was.

  CHARLOTTE: Run after them. Quick. You can catch them at the stables.

  FREDRIK (Even more quiet): After the horse has gone?

  (Pause)

  How strange that one’s life should end sitting on a bench in a garden.

  MR. ERLANSON (Leans, looking onstage, sings):

  She lightens my sadness,

  She livens my days,

  She bursts with a kind of madness

  My well-ordered ways.

  My happiest mistake,

  The ache of my life ...

  (FREDRIK and CHARLOTTE remain seated as the lights come up on DESIRÉE’s bedroom. CARL-MAGNUS enters)

  DESIRÉE: Carl-Magnus, go away!

  CARL-MAGNUS (Ignoring her, beginning to unbutton his tunic): I’d have been here half an hour ago if I hadn’t had to knock a little sense into my wife.

  DESIRÉE: Carl-Magnus, do not take off your tunic!

  CARL-MAGNUS (Still ignoring her): Poor girl. She was somewhat the worse for wine, of course. Trying to make me believe that she was attracted to that asinine lawyer fellow.

  DESIRÉE: Carl-Magnus, listen to me! It’s over. It was never anything in the first place, but now it’s OVER!

  CARL-MAGNUS (Ignoring this, totally self-absorbed): Of all people — that lawyer! Scrawny as a scarecrow and without a hair on his body, probably.

  (He starts removing his braces)

  DESIRÉE (Shouting): Don’t take off your trousers!

  CARL-MAGNUS (Getting out of his trousers): Poor girl, she’d slash her wrists before she’d let any other man touch her. And even if, under the influence of wine, she did stray a bit, how ridiculous to imagine I would so much as turn a hair!

  (As he starts to get out of his trouser leg, he stumbles so that he happens to be facing the “window. ” He stops dead, peering out)

  Good God!

  DESIRÉE: What is it?

  CARL-MAGNUS (Peering): It’s her! And him! Sitting on a bench! She’s touching him! The scoundrel! The conniving swine! Any man who thinks he can lay a finger on my wife!

  (Pulling up his pants and grabbing his tunic as he hobbles out)

  DESIRÉE: Carl-Magnus, what are you doing?

  CARL-MAGNUS: My duelling pistols!

  (And he rushes out. DESIRÉE runs after him)

  DESIRÉE: Carl-Magnus!

  (The bed rolls off and the lights go down on the bedroom and up on MADAME ARMFELDT and FREDRIKA)

  MADAME ARMFELDT: A great deal seems to be going on in this house tonight.

  (Pause)

  Child, will you do me a favor?

  FREDRIKA: Of course, Grandmother.

  MADAME ARMFELDT: Will you tell me what it’s all for? Having outlived my own illusions by centuries, it would be soothing at least to pretend to share some of yours.

  FREDRIKA (After thought): Well, I think it must be worth it.

  MADAME ARMFELDT: Why?

  FREDRIKA: It’s all there is, isn’t it? Oh, I know it’s often discouraging, and to hope for something too much is childish, because what you want so rarely happens.

  MADAME ARMFELDT: Astounding! When I was your age I wanted everything — the moon — jewels, yachts, villas on the Riviera. And I got ’em, too, — for all the good they did me.

  (Music. Her mind starts to wander)

  There was a Croatian Count. He was my first lover. I can see his face now — such eyes, and a mustache like a brigand. He gave me a wooden ring.

  FREDRIKA: A wooden ring?

  MADAME ARMFELDT: It had been in his family for centuries, it seemed, but I said to myself: a wooden ring? What sort of man would give you a wooden ring, so I tossed him out right there and then. And now — who knows? He might have been the love of my life.

  (FREDRIKA falls asleep, resting her head against MADAME ARMFELDT’s knee. In the garden, FREDRIK and CHARLOTTE pause)

  CHARLOTTE: To think I was actually saying: How I hate you being happy! It’s — as if I carry around some terrible curse.

  (CARL-MAGNUS enters from house, runs down steps)

  Oh, Mr. Egerman ... I’m sorry.

  (CHARLOTTE breaks from FREDRIK with a little cry. FREDRIK, still dazed, merely turns, gazing vaguely at CARL-MAGNUS)

  CARL-MAGNUS (Glaring, clicks his heels): Sir, you will accompany me to the pavilion.

  (CHARLOTTE looks at the pistol. Slowly the wonderful truth begins to dawn on her. He really cares! Her face breaks into a radiant smile)

  CHARLOTTE: Carl-Magnus!

  CARL-MAGNUS (Ignoring her): I think the situation speaks for itself.

  CHARLOTTE (Her ecstatic smile broadening): Carl-Magnus, dear, you won’t be too impulsive, will you?

  CARL-MAGNUS: Whatever the provocation, I remain a civilized man.

  (Flourishing the pistol)

  The lawyer and I are merely going to play a little Russian Roulette.

  CHARLOTTE: Russian Roulette?

  CARL-MAGNUS (To FREDRIK): Well, sir? Are you ready, sir?

  FREDRIK (Still only half aware): I beg your pardon. Ready for what??

  CHARLOTTE (Thrilled): Russian Roulette!

  FREDRIK: Oh, Russian Roulette. That’s with a pistol, isn’t it? And you spin the ...

  (Indicating)

  Well, why not?

  (Very polite, to CHARLOTTE)

  Excuse me, Madame.

  (CARL-MAGNUS clicks his heels and struts off. FREDRIK follows him off slowly)

  MR. LINDQUIST (Sings):

  A weekend in the country ...

  MR. LINDQUIST and MRS. ANDERSSEN:

  So inactive

  MR. LINDQUIST, MRS. ANDERSSEN and MR. ERLANSON:

  That one has to lie down.

  ALL THE QUINTET:

  A weekend in the country

  Where ...

  (FRID and PETRA enter, unobserved, and lean against a tree. Gunshot)

  We’re twice as upset as in town!

  (The QUINTET scatters and runs off, except for MRS. ANDERSSEN, who stands behind a tree. DESIRÉE runs out of the house and down to CHARLOTTE)

  DESIRÉE: What is it? What’s happened?

  CHARLOTTE: Oh, dear Miss Armfeldt, my husband and Mr. Egerman are duelling in the pavilion!

  DESIRÉE: Are you insane? You let them do it?

  (She starts to run to the pavilion. CARL-MAGNUS enters, carrying FREDRIK over one shoulder. Quite roughly, he tosses him down on the grass, where FREDRIK remains motionless)

  DESIRÉE: You lunatic! You’ve killed him! Fredrik!

  CHARLOTTE: Carl-Magnus!

  CARL-MAGNUS: My dear Miss Armfeldt, he merely grazed his ear. I trust his performance in the Law Courts is a trifle more professional.

  (He clears his throat. To CHARLOTTE)

  I am prepared to forgive you, dear. But I feel this house is no longer a suitable place for us.

  CHARLOTTE: Oh yes, my darling, I agree!

  CARL-MAGNUS: You will pack my things and meet me in the stables. I will have the car ready.

  CHARLOTTE: Yes, dear. Oh, Carl-Magnus! You became a tiger for me!

  (They kiss)

  MRS. ANDERSSEN (Sings):

  Men are stupid, men are vain,

  Love’s disgusting, love’s insane,

  A humiliating business ...

  MRS. SEGSTROM:


  Oh, how true!

  (CARL-MAGNUS and CHARLOTTE break the kiss. CARL-MAGNUS exits. CHARLOTTE runs up to the house)

  MRS. ANDERSSEN:

  Aaaah,

  (When CHARLOTTE closes the house doors)

  Well...

  DESIRÉE: Fredrik? Fredrik!

  FREDRIK (Stirs, opens his eyes, looks dazedly around): I don’t suppose this is my heavenly reward, is it?

  DESIRÉE: Hardly, dear, with me here.

  FREDRIK (Trying to sit up, failing, remembering): Extraordinary, isn’t it? To hold a muzzle to one’s temple — and yet to miss! A shaky hand, perhaps, is an asset after all.

  DESIRÉE: Does it hurt?

  FREDRIK: It hurts — spiritually. You’ve heard, I imagine, about the evening’s other event?

  DESIRÉE: No, what?

  FREDRIK: Henrik and Anne — ran off together.

  DESIRÉE: Fredrik!

  FREDRIK: Well, I think I should get up and confront the world, don’t you?

  DESIRÉE (Sings):

  Isn’t it rich?

  FREDRIK:

  Are we a pair?

  You here at last on the ground.

  DESIRÉE:

  You in mid-air.

  (Speaks)

  Knees wobbly?

  FREDRIK: No, no, it seems not. In fact, it’s hardly possible, but...

  DESIRÉE (Sings):

  Was that a farce?

  FREDRIK:

  My fault, I fear.

  DESIRÉE:

  Me as a merry-go-round.

  FREDRIK:

  Me as King Lear.

  (Speaks)

  How unlikely life is! To lose one’s son, one’s wife, and practically one’s life within an hour and yet to feel —relieved. Relieved, and, what’s more, considerably less ancient.

  (He jumps up on the bench)

  Aha! Desirée!

  DESIRÉE: Poor Fredrik!

  FREDRIK: No, no, no. We will banish “poor” from our vocabulary and replace it with “coherent.”

  DESIRÉE (Blank): Coherent?