A Hard Day's Night Page #20

GRANDFATHER:

(disgustedly to no

one in particular)

Will you ever look at him, sitting

there wid his hooter scraping away

at that book!

RINGO:

Well... what's the matter with that?

GRANDFATHER:

(taking the book from

him)

Have you no natural resources of

your own? Have they even robbed you

of that?

RINGO:

(snatching back his

book)

You can learn from books.

GRANDFATHER:

Can you now? Aah... sheeps' heads!

You learn more by getting out there

and living.

RINGO:

Out where?

GRANDFATHER:

Any old where... but not our little

Richard... oh no! When you're not

thumping them pagan skins, you're

tormenting your eyes wid that rubbish!

RINGO:

(defiantly)

Books are good!

GRANDFATHER:

(countering)

Parading's better!

RINGO:

Parading?

GRANDFATHER:

(marching up and down

the canteen)

That's it, parading the streets...

trailing your coat... bowling along...

living!

RINGO:

Well, I am living, aren't I?

GRANDFATHER:

You're living, are you? When was the

last time you gave a girl a pink-

edged daisy? When did you last

embarrass a sheila wid your cool

appraising stare?

RINGO:

Eh... you're a bit old for that sort

of chat, aren't you?

GRANDFATHER:

At least I've a backlog of memories,

but all you've got is that book!

RINGO:

Aaah... stop picking on me... you're

as bad as the rest of them.

GRANDFATHER:

So you are a man after all.

RINGO:

What's that mean?

GRANDFATHER:

Do you think I haven't noticed... do

you think I wasn't aware of the drift?

Oh... you poor unfortunate scuff,

they've driven you into books by

their cruel, unnatural treatment,

exploiting your good nature.

RINGO:

(not too sure)

Oh... I dunno.

GRANDFATHER:

(confidingly)

And that lot's never happier than

when they're jeering at you... and

where would they be without the steady

support of your drum beat, I'd like

to know.

RINGO:

Yeah... that's right.

GRANDFATHER:

And what's it all come to in the

end?

RINGO:

(defensively)

Yeah... what's in it for me?

GRANDFATHER:

A book!

RINGO:

Yeah... a bloomin' book!

He throws the book down.

GRANDFATHER:

When you could be out there betraying

a rich American widow or sipping

palm wine in Tahiti before you're

too old like me. A fine neat and

trim lad the class of you should be

helping himself to life's goodies

before the sands run out. Being an

old age pensioner's a terrible drag

on a man and every second you waste

is bringing you nearer the Friday

queue at the Post Office.

RINGO:

Yeah... funny really, 'cos I'd never

thought of it but being middle-aged

and old takes up most of your time,

doesn't it?

GRANDFATHER:

(nodding)

You're only right.

RINGO:

(nodding back)

I'm not wrong.

There is a pause, then RINGO rises and crosses to the door.

GRANDFATHER:

Where are you off to?

RINGO:

I'm going parading before it's too

late!

RINGO leaves and GRANDFATHER laughs at what he has done,

then realizes its full meaning and looks worried.

INTERIOR CORRIDOR AND STAIRWAY

RINGO comes along the corridor then down the narrow stairs.

Half-way down he comes face to face with GEORGE who is coming

up the stairs.

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