French Without Tears

by Terence Rattigan

  DIANA. Yes, I’m sure they have. (Pause.) You naval people never talk about yourselves, do you?

  ROGERS. Well, you know, silent service and all that.

  DIANA. Yes, I know, but I do hope you’re not going to be too silent with me, because honestly, I am so terribly interested.

  ROGERS. (Smiling.) I’ll try not to be too silent then.

  Pause.

  DIANA. What are you doing this morning?

  ROGERS. Nothing special. Why?

  DIANA. How would you like to have a look round the town?

  Enter JACQUELINE from the kitchen.

  JACQUELINE. Hasn’t Kit come down yet?

  ROGERS. (To DIANA.) Oh, I’d love to.

  DIANA. Good. I’ll go and get dressed and we’ll go for a little stroll.

  ROGERS. But isn’t it rather a bore for you?

  DIANA. No, of course not. I’d love it. (She goes to the door.)

  JACQUELINE. Diana?

  DIANA. Yes?

  JACQUELINE. (Pouring out a cup of coffee.) If you’re going past Kit’s room you might give him this. (She hands her the cup.)

  DIANA. Right, I will. (To ROGERS.) Are you sure I’m not dragging you away from your work or anything?

  JACQUELINE goes back into the kitchen.

  ROGERS. Oh, no. That’s quite all right. I haven’t been given anything to do yet.

  DIANA. Good. Well, I’ll go and put some clothes on.

  She turns to go. ALAN comes in and almost collides with her in the doorway.

  (Turning.) I’ll meet you down here then in about a quarter of an hour?

  ROGERS. Right.

  DIANA smiles at ROGERS, walks past ALAN without glancing at him and goes out.

  ALAN. (Going to the table and sitting.) Going for a little constitutional, Commander? (He has some books in his hands. He places them on the table in front of him and opens a notebook.)

  ROGERS. Yes. (He turns his back.)

  ALAN. (Taking a fountain pen from his pocket and unscrewing the top.) You’ve got a nice day for it. (Pause. He writes in his notebook and begins to sing the Lorelei. Without looking up.) It’s a lovely song, the Lorelei, don’t you think?

  ROGERS. It could be.

  ALAN. True. (He continues to write.) It’s a stupid fable anyway. I ask you, what sailor would be lured to his doom after he had been warned of his danger?

  ROGERS. (Turning quickly.) If you think that’s funny, I don’t.

  Enter KENNETH through the window.

  KENNETH. Oh, Commander Rogers, Maingot wants to see you a moment.

  Pause. ROGERS is standing facing ALAN across the table, and ALAN is still writing.

  ROGERS. Right. Thank you. (He marches out into the garden.)

  ALAN. (After a pause.) Well, Babe, I suppose you were murdered by the old man.

  KENNETH. (Wearily.) More so than usual this morning.

  Pause. ALAN goes on writing.

  ALAN. (Without looking up.) Babe, I don’t like your sister.

  KENNETH. (Walking round the table and looking over ALAN’s shoulder at what he is writing.) Don’t you? I thought you did like her, rather a lot.

  ALAN looks up. Pause.

  Enter JACQUELINE from the kitchen. She has taken off her apron and the handkerchief over her hair.

  JACQUELINE. Good morning, Kenneth.

  KENNETH. Good morning, Mam’selle.

  JACQUELINE. Had your lesson?

  KENNETH. Yes. I’ve got to do the whole damn thing again. (He goes to the door.) Alan, I wish to God I had your brains.

  He goes out. ALAN looks after him a moment, then goes back to his work.

  JACQUELINE. (Looking at her watch.) Kit is a monster. He’s never been on time for his lesson yet. (She goes to the window and looks out.)

  ALAN. (Looking up from his work.) What have you done to your hair: Jack?

  JACQUELINE. (Turning round.) Do you like it? (Her hair is done in the same way as DIANA’s.)

  ALAN. (He gets up and walks over to her, holding her out at arm’s length and studying her hair. Doubtfully.) No, it’s a mistake, Jack. You won’t beat her by copying the way she does her hair.

  JACQUELINE. He’ll like it, Alan, I’m sure he will.

  ALAN. He won’t notice it.

  JACQUELINE. He will, you see.

  ALAN. I’ll bet you five francs he doesn’t.

  JACQUELINE. All right. That’s a bet.

  ALAN. Go and change it while there’s still time. Make it look hideous like it used to.

  JACQUELINE. (Laughing.) No, Alan.

  Pause.

  ALAN. Poor Jack. I must find you someone else to fall in love with.

  JACQUELINE. So long as you don’t tell him that I adore him, I don’t mind what you do.

  ALAN. Anyone less half-witted than Kit would have seen it years ago.

  JACQUELINE. Am I very obvious, Alan? I don’t want to bore him.

  ALAN. Go and change that hair.

  JACQUELINE. Do you think if Diana were out of the way I should stand a chance?

  ALAN. You’re not thinking of putting her out of the way, are you?

  JACQUELINE. (Smiling.) I’d do it painlessly, Alan.

  ALAN. Why painlessly?

  JACQUELINE. I’m not jealous of her really, though.

  ALAN. Oh, no. Not a bit.

  JACQUELINE. Honestly, Alan, I wouldn’t mind if she made him happy. But she doesn’t. She seems to enjoy making him miserable. And now that the Commander’s here it’s going to be much worse. You know what I mean, don’t you?

  ALAN. I have an idea.

  JACQUELINE. Can’t we do anything about it, Alan?

  ALAN. Yes. Go and change that hair, Jack. It’s the only chance.

  JACQUELINE. No, I won’t do anything of the sort.

  Enter KIT, dressed.

  KIT. (Walking right up to JACQUELINE and taking her hands earnestly.) Jack, I have something to tell you. (To ALAN.) Go away, Alan, this is confidential.

  ALAN goes back to the table and his work.

  JACQUELINE. What is it, Kit?

  KIT. I haven’t done that work you set me.

  JACQUELINE. Oh, Kit. Why not?

  KIT. Well, I took Diana to the Casino last night, and –

  JACQUELINE. Kit, really –

  KIT. But as a great treat I’ll translate you some La Bruyère this morning. Come on. (He pulls her towards one of the armchairs.)

  JACQUELINE. I set you that work specially because I thought it would interest you, and anyway you can’t afford to slack off just now before your exam.

  KIT. (Hands a her book.) Now sit down and read your nice La Bruyère and be quiet. Are you comfortable? (Opening his own book.) Page one hundred and eight. Listen, Alan. You can learn a lot from hearing French beautifully translated. Chapter four. (Translating.) Of the heart . . .

  JACQUELINE. Of love.

  KIT. Of love, then. (Translating.) There is a fragrance in pure love . . .

  JACQUELINE. In pure friendship.

  KIT. (Translating.) Friendship can exist between people of different sexes.

  ALAN. You don’t say.

  KIT. I don’t. La Bruyère does. (Translating.) Friendship can exist between people of different sexes, quite exempt from all grossness.

  JACQUELINE. Quite free from all . . .

  ALAN. Hanky-panky.

  JACQUELINE. Quite free from all unworthy thoughts.

  KIT. Quite exempt from all grossness. (Looking up.) I know what it is. It’s been bothering me all the time. You’ve changed your hair, haven’t you, Jack?

  JACQUELINE. (Giving ALAN a quick glance.) Yes, Kit, I’ve changed my hair.

  KIT. Alan, do look at Jack. She’s changed her hair.

  ALAN. (Looking up.) So she has. Well – well – well.

  KIT. I knew you’d done something to yourself. (He studies her.) It’s queer, you know. It makes you look quite . . .

  JACQUELINE. (Eagerly.) Quite what, Kit?

  KIT. I was going to say alluring.


  He laughs as if he’d made a joke; JACQUELINE laughs, too.

  JACQUELINE. You do like it, anyway, Kit?

  KIT. Yes, I do. I think it’s very nice.

  JACQUELINE. You think I ought to keep it like this?

  Before KIT can answer, ROGERS has appeared from garden.

  ROGERS. Sorry, Maingot wants to take me now, so would one of you mind telling Diana – er – I mean Miss Lake, that we’ll have to postpone our walk?

  Pause.

  ALAN. Yes, I’ll tell her.

  ROGERS. Thank you.

  He goes back into garden.

  JACQUELINE. (Breaking a silence.) You think I ought to keep it like this?

  KIT. (Turning slowly.) Keep what?

  JACQUELINE. My hair.

  KIT. Oh, don’t be such a bore about your hair, Jack. Yes, keep it like that. It’ll get a laugh anyway.

  He goes out quickly. Pause. JACQUELINE closes her book with a slam and rises.

  JACQUELINE. Five francs please, Alan.

  Curtain.

  Act Two, Scene One

  Scene: same as Act One.

  Time: a fortnight later, about 2 p.m.

  Lunch is just finished. All the characters seen in Act One are still sitting at the table. MAINGOT sits at one end, ALAN facing him at the other end. On MAINGOT’s right are ROGERS, DIANA, and KIT, in that order, facing the audience. On his left are BRIAN, KENNETH, and JACQUELINE, also in that order, with their backs to the audience. On the rise of the curtain conversation is general. ALAN is talking to JACQUELINE, BRIAN to MAINGOT, and ROGERS to DIANA. After a few seconds conversation lapses and ROGERS’ voice can be heard.

  ROGERS. Oh, yes, Tuppy Jones. Yes, he’s in Belligerent. I know him quite well. Cheery cove. (He chuckles.) There’s an amusing story about him as a matter of fact. He got a bit tight in Portsmouth, and broke seven Belisha Beacons with an air pistol.

  MAINGOT. (Turning politely to ROGERS.) Eh, bien, Monsieur le Commandant, voulez-vous raconter votre petite histoire en français? Please to tell your little story in French.

  ROGERS. (Confused.) Oh, no, sir. That’s a bit unfair. I don’t know enough.

  MAINGOT. You should have learnt enough, my Commander.

  ROGERS. But, dash it, sir, I’ve only been here a few days.

  MAINGOT. Two weeks, my Commander. After two weeks my pupils are usually enough advanced to tell me little stories in French.

  ROGERS. Well, I’m afraid I can’t tell this one, sir. It wasn’t a story anyway.

  ALAN. (Leaning forward malevolently.) Au contraire, Monsieur, l’histoire de Monsieur le Commandant était excessivement rigolo.

  MAINGOT. Bien. Alors, racontez-la vous même.

  ALAN. Il parâit qu’il connait un type qui s’appelle Tuppy Jones. Alors ce bonhomme, se promenant un soir par les rues de Portsmouth, et ayant un peu trop bu, a brisé, à coups de pistolet à vent, sept Belisha Beacons.

  MAINGOT. (Who has been listening attentively, his ear cupped in his hand.) Et puis?

  ALAN. C’est tout, Monsieur.

  MAINGOT. C’est tout?

  KIT. Vous savez que ce Tuppy Jones était d’un esprit le plus fin du monde.

  MAINGOT. Je crois bien. Au même temps, je n’ai pas tout à fait compris. Qu’est-ce que ça veut dire – Belisha Beacons?

  ALAN. Ah, ça c’est un peu compliqué.

  BRIAN. (Showing off his French.) Belisha Beacons sont des objets – (He stops.)

  ALAN. Qui se trouvent actuellement dans les rues de Londres –

  KIT. Et qui sont dédiés au salut des passants.

  MAINGOT. Aha. Des emblemes religieux?

  ALAN. C’est ça. Des emblèmes religieux.

  MAINGOT. (To ROGERS.) So one finds it funny in England to break these religious emblems with a wind pistol?

  ROGERS. (Not having understood.) Well – (MAINGOT shrugs his shoulders sadly.)

  (Angrily to ALAN.) Damn you, Howard.

  BRIAN. That’s not fair.

  ALAN. It was a very good story, I thought.

  MAINGOT. (Rising, having finished his wine.) Bien, Messieurs, Mesdames, la session est terminée. (He gets up. ALL get up after him.)

  (Holding up his hand.) One moment please. I speak in English for those who cannot understand. How many of you are going tonight to the Costume Ball and great battle of flowers at the Casino? Please hold up your hands.

  KIT. (To ALAN.) Good lord! Is it July the fourteenth? I’d no idea.

  All hold up their hands.

  MAINGOT. All of you! Good. The festivities commence at eight o’clock; there will be no dinner ’ere. All right.

  MAINGOT moves to window and stops.

  One moment, please. I give my history lecture at two-thirty, that is to say in twenty minutes’ time. All right.

  He goes out into garden.

  ROGERS and DIANA are moving towards the French windows. KIT catches them up.

  KIT. (To DIANA.) What about a game of Japanese billiards, Diana?

  DIANA. (Indicating ROGERS.) Bill’s just asked me to play, Kit. I’ll play you afterwards. Come on, Bill.

  ROGERS. Sorry, Neilan.

  ROGERS and DIANA go out together. KIT goes to an armchair and sits sulkily. BRIAN has pulled out a wallet and is fumbling inside it. ALAN is going out through the window when KENNETH catches him up.

  KENNETH. Alan, will you help me with that essay now? You said you would.

  ALAN. Oh hell! Can’t you do it yourself?

  KENNETH. Well, I could, but it might mean missing this dance tonight, and I’d hate that. Do help me. It’s on Robespierre, and I know nothing about him.

  ALAN. There’s a chapter on him in Lavisse. Why don’t you copy that out? The old man won’t notice. He’ll probably say that it isn’t French, but still –

  He goes out.

  KENNETH. (Shouting after him.) Alan, be a sportsman.

  ALAN. (Off.) Nothing I should hate more.

  KENNETH. Oh, hell!

  KENNETH turns sadly and goes past KIT to the door at the back.

  KIT. (Moodily.) What Alan wants is a good kick in the pants.

  KENNETH. (At door.) Oh, I don’t know.

  He goes out. BRIAN puts his wallet back in his pocket.

  BRIAN. I say, old boy, I suppose you couldn’t lend me fifty francs, could you?

  KIT. No, I couldn’t. At any rate, not until you’ve paid me back that hundred you owe me.

  BRIAN. Ah, I see your point. (Cheerfully.) Well, old boy, no ill feelings. I’ll have to put off Chi-Chi for tonight, that’s all.

  KIT. You weren’t thinking of taking her to this thing at the Casino, were you?

  BRIAN. Yes.

  KIT. What do you think Maingot would have said if he’d seen her?

  BRIAN. That would have been all right. I told him I was taking the daughter of the British Consul.

  KIT. But she doesn’t exactly look like the daughter of the British Consul, does she?

  BRIAN. Well, after all, it’s fancy dress. It’s just possible the daughter of the British Consul might go dressed as Nana of the Boulevards. Still, I admit that if he’d actually met her he might have found it odd that the only English she knew was ‘ I love you, Big Boy’.

  KIT. How do you manage to talk to her, then?

  BRIAN. Oh, we get along, old boy, we get along. (Going to window.) You couldn’t make it thirty francs, I suppose?

  KIT. No, and I don’t suppose Chi-Chi could either.

  BRIAN. Oh, well, you may be right. I’d better pop round in the car and tell her I won’t be there tonight.

  KIT. Oh, listen, Brian, if you want someone to take, why don’t you take Jack?

  BRIAN. Isn’t anyone taking her?

  KIT. Yes, I’m supposed to be, but –

  BRIAN. (Surprised.) You, old boy? What about Diana?

  KIT. Oh, she’s being taken by the Commander.

  BRIAN. Oh.

  Pause.

  As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ll go at all. I don’t fancy myself at a ba
ttle of flowers.

  KIT. Nor do I, if it comes to that.

  BRIAN. Oh, I don’t know. I think you’d hurl a prettier bloom than I would. Well, so long.

  He goes out. KIT sits biting his nails. The ferocious din of a sports car tuning up comes through the window. KIT jumps up.

  KIT. (Shouting through the window.) Must you make all that noise?

  BRIAN. (Off, his voice coming faintly above the din.) Can’t hear, old boy.

  The noise lessens as the car moves off down the street. JACQUELINE and MARIANNE come in, the latter bearing a tray.

  KIT. (Turning.) God knows why Brian finds it necessary to have a car that sounds like – like five dictators all talking at once.

  JACQUELINE. (Helping MARIANNE clear.) It goes with his character, Kit. He’d think it was effeminate to have a car that was possible to sit in without getting cramp and that didn’t deafen one.

  KIT. (Sitting again.) I wonder what it’s like to be as hearty as Brian?

  JACQUELINE. Awful, I should think.

  KIT. No, I should think very pleasant. Have you ever seen Brian bad-tempered?

  JACQUELINE. No, but then I think he’s too stupid to be bad-tempered.

  KIT. It doesn’t follow. Cats and dogs are bad-tempered, sometimes. No, Brian may be stupid but he’s right-minded. He’s solved the problem of living better than any of us.

  MARIANNE goes out with a loaded tray.

  It seems a simple solution, too. All it needs, apparently, is the occasional outlay of fifty francs. I wish I could do the same.

  JACQUELINE. I expect you could if you tried.

  KIT. I have tried. Often.

  JACQUELINE is folding up the table-cloth.

  Does that shock you?

  JACQUELINE. Why should it?

  KIT. I just wondered.

  JACQUELINE. I’m a woman of the world.

  KIT. (Smiling.) That’s the last thing you are. But I’ll tell you this, Jack. I like you so much that it’s sometimes quite an effort to remember that you’re a woman at all.

  JACQUELINE. Oh.

  She puts the table-cloth in a drawer of the table and shuts it with something of a slam.

  I thought you liked women.

  KIT. I don’t think one likes women, does one? One loves them sometimes, but that’s a different thing altogether. Still, I like you. That’s what’s so odd.

  JACQUELINE. (Brightly.) Thank you, Kit. I like you, too.

  KIT. Good. That’s nice for both of us, isn’t it?