French Without Tears

by Terence Rattigan

  ALAN. You can say anything you want to say in front of Bill.

  DIANA. No, thank you. I’d rather not.

  ALAN. Then you don’t say it.

  DIANA. (After a slight pause.) All right, if you’re determined to be so childish. This is all I want to say. (With great sincerity.) Alan, you know your own mind. If you feel you must run away from me, go ahead. I won’t try to stop you. I only hope you’ll be happy without me. I know I shan’t be happy without you.

  ALAN. (Beginning to fall.) You’ll get over it.

  DIANA. Oh, I expect so. You’ll write to me occasionally, won’t you?

  ALAN. Oh, yes, every day, I expect.

  DIANA. I’d like to know how you’re getting on in your new career. I wish you the very, very best of luck.

  ALAN. Thank you.

  DIANA. I’ll be thinking of you a lot.

  ALAN. That’s very kind of you.

  DIANA. Well, that’s really all I wanted to say, only . . . (falteringly) I would rather like to say goodbye, and that’s a bit hard with Bill standing there like the Rock of Gibraltar.

  There is a long pause.

  ALAN. (Suddenly.) Bill, get out.

  ROGERS doesn’t budge.

  ALAN. Get out, Bill.

  ROGERS seems not to have heard. ALAN approaches him menacingly.

  Get out, blast you!

  ROGERS. (Slowly.) Is that the voice of reason, my dear fellow?

  ALAN stares at him and suddenly collects himself.

  ALAN. Oh, thank you, Bill. Come on, help me carry these books upstairs, and don’t leave my side until I’m in that damned train.

  They go towards the door.

  DIANA. So you don’t want to say goodbye?

  ALAN. (At door.) Yes, I do. Goodbye.

  He goes out, followed by ROGERS.

  DIANA, in a sudden rage, hurls some books through the door after them.

  DIANA. You forgot some.

  She goes to kitchen door.

  (Calling.) Marianne, à quelle heure arrive ce Lord Heybrook?

  JACQUELINE. (Calling from the kitchen.) Lord Heybrook’s arriving at ten-fifteen. (She appears in the doorway.) He’ll be here any moment now.

  DIANA. (Annoyed.) Oh, thank you very much.

  JACQUELINE. Well, any luck with Alan?

  DIANA. (Shortly.) No.

  JACQUELINE. He wouldn’t listen to reason?

  DIANA. Do you mind, Jacqueline? I’m really too upset to talk about it.

  JACQUELINE. Why don’t you go to England with him, if you feel like that?

  DIANA. How can I go chasing him across half a continent? One has a little pride after all.

  JACQUELINE. Yes, I suppose one has.

  DIANA. Besides, if Alan really feels he’ll be happier without me, there’s nothing I can do about it.

  JACQUELINE. No, I suppose there isn’t. (Inconsequentially.) Poor Lord Heybrook!

  DIANA. What’s Lord Heybrook got to do with it?

  JACQUELINE. Nothing. (She wanders over to the window.) It’s a lovely morning for a bathe, don’t you think? There’s a cold wind and the sea is rough, but I shouldn’t let that stop you.

  DIANA. Really, Jacqueline, you’re becoming quite nice and catty in your old age. (Defiantly.) As a matter of fact, I think I will have a bathe. Why don’t you come with me?

  JACQUELINE. Oh, no. My bathing dress isn’t nearly attractive enough. Besides, I’m giving lessons all the morning. (Looking at her watch.) I’m supposed to be giving one now. Kit’s late as usual.

  DIANA. By the way, how are you getting on in that direction?

  JACQUELINE. Not very well, I’m afraid.

  DIANA. Oh, I’m sorry. I suppose Kit’s terribly upset about me?

  JACQUELINE. You needn’t worry. I shall do my best to console him.

  DIANA. I’ve been horribly unkind to him. After Alan’s gone I shall have to be specially nice to him to make up for it.

  JACQUELINE. (Alarmed.) Oh, no.

  DIANA raises her eyebrows.

  Oh, why don’t you go to England with Alan? Heaven knows Alan’s never done me any harm, but I can feel quite ruthless about anything that will get you out of this house.

  DIANA. Excitable race, you French – I always say.

  Enter KIT.

  KIT. (Ignoring DIANA.) Sorry, Jack. I’m late.

  JACQUELINE. All right, Kit.

  DIANA. Well, I don’t want to disturb you. (Going to door.) I’m going to have a bathe.

  DIANA goes out. KIT stands shyly, holding a notebook.

  JACQUELINE. (Adopting a schoolmistress manner.) Sit down, Kit. Have you done that stuff?

  They sit at table. KIT hands her his notebook.

  Good. You must have worked quite hard.

  She bends her head over the notebook. KIT gazes at her.

  KIT. (Suddenly.) Jack, I want to say –

  JACQUELINE. (Hurriedly.) This is wrong. (She underlines a word.) You can’t say that in French. You have to turn it. (She writes something in the book.) Do you see?

  KIT. (Looking over her shoulder.) Yes, I see.

  JACQUELINE continues to read.

  JACQUELINE. My dear Kit – (Reading.) Une pipe remplie avec du tabac. What ought it to be?

  KIT. Remplie de tabac, of course.

  JACQUELINE. Why didn’t you write it, then? (She underlines another word.) Kit, this whole exercise is terrible. What on earth were you thinking of when you did it?

  KIT. You.

  JACQUELINE. Well, you’d better do it again.

  KIT. (Annoyed.) What! Do it all again?

  JACQUELINE. Yes. (Weakening.) Why were you thinking of me?

  KIT. Not the whole damn thing?

  JACQUELINE. Certainly. Why were you thinking of me?

  KIT. (With dignity.) Shall I translate you some ‘La Bruyère’?

  JACQUELINE. All right.

  KIT. Page one hundred and eight.

  They take up their books in a dignified silence.

  JACQUELINE. If I let you off, will you tell me?

  KIT. I might.

  JACQUELINE. Very well. You’re let off. Only mind you, if you do another exercise as bad as that I’ll make you do it again, and three more besides. Now, why were you thinking of me?

  KIT. I was wondering whether I ought to tell you I was sorry for – for what happened last night, or whether I ought to pass it off with a gay laugh and a shrug of the shoulders.

  JACQUELINE. Which did you decide?

  KIT. I decided to leave it to you.

  JACQUELINE. I think I’d rather have the gay laugh and the shrug of the shoulders.

  KIT. You shall have it. (He gets up.)

  JACQUELINE. No, you needn’t bother. We’ll take the gay laugh, etcetera, for granted.

  KIT. (Sitting.) Very well. The incident is now closed, permanently and perpetually closed. (He opens his book.) Chapter four. Of love. There is a fragrance in pure friendship –

  JACQUELINE. (Puzzled at his attitude.) I don’t know why you should have thought I wanted you to apologise. After all what’s a kiss between friends?

  KIT. Alan told me this morning that you were in a steaming fury with me about it, so I thought –

  JACQUELINE. Oh, I see. Alan’s been talking to you about me this morning, has he? Come on, tell me, what’s he been saying now?

  KIT. I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you. You see, last night, when Alan was a bit drunk, he played a stupid practical joke on me. He told me (covering his face with his hands) – this is a bit embarrassing, but it’s a good laugh – he told me that you had been madly in love with me for two months. (He uncovers his face and waits for the laugh, which doesn’t come.) Well, I, being also rather drunk, believed him, and so, as I was feeling rather sentimental, I – kissed you, as you remember; and of course I couldn’t understand why you didn’t fall into my arms and say, ‘At last, at last!’ or some such rot. However, this morning Alan told me the whole thing had been a joke, and that you were really rather angry with me for �
� well – spoiling a beautiful friendship, and all that nonsense. So that’s why I thought I’d better apologise.

  JACQUELINE. (With sudden violence.) What a blasted fool Alan is!

  KIT. Yes, it was a damn silly trick to play. Not at all like him.

  JACQUELINE. Kit – supposing I – had fallen into your arms and said, ‘At last, at last!’ or some such rot, what would you have done?

  KIT. Oh, I should have kissed you again and said: ‘I’ve loved you all the time without knowing it,’ or some such idiocy.

  JACQUELINE. Oh, Kit. You wouldn’t.

  KIT. (Apologetically.) Well, I told you I was feeling sentimental last night, and what with seeing what a fool I’d been over Diana and trying to forget her, and suddenly hearing that you were in love with me, and being drunk –

  JACQUELINE. You don’t feel sentimental this morning, do you?

  KIT. Lord, no. You don’t have to worry any more. I’m quite all right now.

  He takes up his book and tries to concentrate.

  JACQUELINE. Isn’t there any chance of your feeling sentimental again, some time?

  KIT. Oh, no. You’re quite safe.

  JACQUELINE. If I gave you a drink or two, and told you that what Alan said last night was the truth? And that I have been in love with you for two months and that I’ve been longing for you to kiss me every time I’m with you, would that make you feel sentimental?

  KIT. There’s no knowing what it mightn’t make me feel.

  Pause.

  JACQUELINE. I haven’t got any drink, Kit. Or must you have drink?

  She stands up and KIT embraces her.

  (A little hysterically.) At last! At last!

  KIT. I’ve loved you all the time without knowing it.

  JACQUELINE. Or some such idiocy.

  KIT. I mean that, Jack.

  JACQUELINE. Don’t get serious, please, Kit. This is only a joke. It’s only because we are both feeling a bit sentimental at the same time. (Holding him away.) Or are you?

  KIT. Would I be behaving like this if I weren’t?

  JACQUELINE. I don’t know. I wouldn’t like to have played a sort of Diana trick on you. You haven’t got that trapped feeling, have you?

  KIT. I’ve got a peculiar feeling in the stomach, and an odd buzzing noise in the head. I think that must mean I’m in love with you.

  JACQUELINE. You mustn’t talk about love.

  KIT. But you do.

  JACQUELINE. I’ve got two months’ start of you. I’m not going to let you mention the word ‘love’ for two months. Oh, Kit, do you think there’s a chance you may be feeling sentimental in two months’ time?

  KIT. I’ll take ten to one.

  JACQUELINE. Well, go on being beastly to me in the meanwhile, because I should hate it if you didn’t.

  KIT. I’ll try, but it won’t be easy.

  ALAN pokes his head cautiously round the door.

  ALAN. Is Diana about?

  JACQUELINE. Come in, Alan. You’re quite safe, and I’ve got some news.

  ALAN comes in, followed by ROGERS.

  ALAN. What news?

  JACQUELINE. I don’t want the Commander to hear it. (To ROGERS.) Do you mind awfully?

  ROGERS. Oh, no. Not at all. Tell me when you’re finished.

  He goes out.

  ALAN. Well, what’s the news?

  JACQUELINE. Kit says it’s just possible that in two months’ time he may feel quite sentimental about me.

  ALAN. Well, well, well. You could knock me over with a feather.

  KIT. You’ve got a lot to explain, Alan. What the hell do you mean by telling me a whole packet of lies?

  ALAN. Is that the proper way to speak to one, who, by a series of tortuous ruses, has at last brought you two love-birds together?

  JACQUELINE. We’re not love-birds. We’re friends.

  KIT. Sentimental friends.

  JACQUELINE. No. Friends who sometimes feel sentimental.

  ALAN. Well, make up your minds what you are, and I’ll give you my blessing. Time presses. I came in to say goodbye.

  ROGERS. (Appearing in doorway.) I can come in now, can’t I?

  JACQUELINE. How did you know?

  ROGERS. Male intuition as opposed to female. I listened at the keyhole.

  ALAN. Do you know, Jack, the only reason I’m sorry to be going is having to leave Bill just when I’d discovered him.

  ROGERS. We’ll see each other again, don’t you worry. We’re brothers under the skin.

  ALAN. Tell me, Jack, did Diana say anything about coming to England with me?

  JACQUELINE. No, she’s definitely staying here. She says your happiness comes first.

  ALAN. For my happiness read Lord Heybrook. Thank God for his lordship.

  Enter KENNETH.

  KENNETH. Alan, must you go?

  ALAN. Yes, Babe, I must. There’s a load off my mind, and I don’t only mean Diana.

  KENNETH. I don’t think you know what you’re doing.

  ALAN. Oh, yes, I do.

  A car noise is heard outside. MAINGOT appears at window.

  MAINGOT. Jacqueline! Jacqueline! Je crois que c’est Lord Heybrook qui arrive. Es-tu-prête?

  JACQUELINE. Oui, Papa.

  MAINGOT. Bien! (He darts out again.)

  JACQUELINE. (Excitedly.) Lord Heybrook! Oh, go and tell Diana, someone, or she’ll miss her entrance.

  KIT. (Running to door.) Diana, Lord Heybrook!

  JACQUELINE. What does he look like, Kenneth?

  KENNETH. I can’t see. Your father is in the light.

  ALAN. Oh, sit down, all of you. Give the man a chance.

  MAINGOT. (Calling off.) Marianne! Les bagages!

  Enter DIANA, in her bathing dress. She takes up a position of nonchalance, with her back to the garden door.

  MAINGOT. (Off.) Par ici, Milord!

  Enter LORD HEYBROOK and MAINGOT from window.

  LORD HEYBROOK is a bright young schoolboy, about fifteen years old.

  (Escorting LORD HEYBROOK across the room.) Alors vous êtes arrivé. J’espère que vous avez fait bon voyage . . . etc.

  LORD HEYBROOK, after smiling around shyly, goes out followed by MAINGOT. JACQUELINE collapses with laughter on KIT’s chest. The others begin to laugh also.

  DIANA. Come and help me pack, someone. I’m going to catch that London train or die.

  She disappears through door at back.

  ALAN. (Pursuing her despairingly.) No, no, oh, God, no! (Turning at door.) Stop laughing, you idiots. It isn’t funny. It’s a bloody tragedy.

  But they only laugh the louder as the curtain falls.

  TERENCE RATTIGAN

  Born in 1911, a scholar at Harrow and at Trinity College, Oxford, Terence Rattigan had his first long-running hit in the West End at the age of twenty-five: French Without Tears (1936). His next play, After the Dance (1939), opened to euphoric reviews yet closed under the gathering clouds of war, but with Flare Path (1942) Rattigan embarked on an almost unbroken series of successes, with most plays running in the West End for at least a year and several making the transition to Broadway: While the Sun Shines (1943), Love in Idleness (1944), The Winslow Boy (1946), The Browning Version (performed in double-bill with Harlequinade, 1948), Who is Sylvia? (1950), The Deep Blue Sea (1952), The Sleeping Prince (1953) and Separate Tables (1954). From the mid-fifties, with the advent of the ‘Angry Young Men’, he enjoyed less success on stage, though Ross (1960) and In Praise of Love (1973) were well received. As well as seeing many of his plays turned into successful films, Rattigan wrote a number of original plays for television from the fifties onwards. He was knighted in 1971 and died in 1977.

  A Nick Hern Book

  This edition of French Without Tears first published in Great Britain in 1995 by Nick Hern Books, The Glasshouse, 49a Goldhawk Road, London W12 8QP by arrangement with Methuen. French Without Tears was included in Volume One of The Collected Plays of Terence Rattigan published in 1953 by Hamish Hamilton

  Printed in this edition
in 2015, in association with the Orange Tree Theatre, London

  This ebook first published in 2015

  Copyright © 1953 The Sir Terence Rattigan Charitable Trust

  Introduction copyright © 1995 Dan Rebellato

  Front cover photo copyright © Getty Images

  Typeset by Country Setting, Kingsdown, Kent CT14 8ES

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 978 1 84842 524 8 (print edition)

  ISBN 978 1 78001681 8 (ebook edition)

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