A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy

(Mendelssohn's "Wedding March")

Ghosts? Little spirits or pixies?

I don't believe in 'em.

- Do you, Mr Foxx?

- No, sir.

You sound it, with all

your metaphysical gibberish.

I didn't mean ghosts as spirits, Professor.

Nothing is real but experience -

that which can be touched, tasted, felt

or, in some scientific fashion, proved.

We must never substitute

qualitative events

that are marked by similar properties

and recurrences for fixed substances.

Mr Snell, since these are the last few

moments before the summer vacation,

I would appreciate it if you could

remain awake until the final bell.

I'm sorry, sir.

I take it you rule out metaphysics

as unworthy of serious consideration.

As I stated quite clearly

in my latest paper,

metaphysical philosophers are men who

are too weak to accept the world as it is.

Their theories of the so-called

"mysteries of life"

are nothing more than projections

of their own inner uneasiness.

Apart from this world,

there are no realities.

But that leaves many basic

human needs unanswered.

I'm sorry. I did not create the cosmos.

I merely explain it.

(bell chimes the hour)

Leopold! Congratulations!

Thank you so much. Thank you.

Do you have a photo of the lucky woman?

- The wedding is tomorrow?

- The day after. Sunday.

We're going to my cousin's

for a country ceremony.

- She's magnificent!

- She'll be the final jewel in your crown.

Is it boorish of me to ask you

to inscribe your books?

I agree with you about Balzac.

He's vastly overrated.

- She has the face of an angel.

- And the disposition of one, as well.

As someone who has resolutely

resisted matrimony,

I now must admit to being

the fortunate individual

on whom fortune showers her favours.

She must appreciate what

an extraordinary catch she's getting.

- You flatter me, Ambrose.

- I flatter him!

A philosopher, an art critic, an astute

political theorist, an outspoken pacifist.

- A man of culture!

- And a singer of Schubert lieder.

Come now, am I to be overpraised

merely for being a civilised human?

What after the wedding?

We are only having one week of leisure,

which we will spend in London -

a long-awaited opportunity

to show her Thomas Carlyle's grave.

Following that,

we depart for the continent,

where I have consented to give

a series of lectures on Renaissance art.

It will be a pleasure to bring Tintoretto

into perspective for his many sycophants.

(birdsong)

(clattering)

(squawking)

- (woman) Andrew, are you all right?

- Yeah. No, I'm fine.

I can't seem to get airborne

with my wings for some reason.

And I've had wonderful success

with my flying bicycle.

Why does a beautiful day like today

give me such a sad feeling?

Adrian, I don't want to hear anything sad

now. I want this to be a terrific time for us.

I just wanna relax and have a good time

and go fishing

and work on my inventions,

and I don't wanna think about Wall Street.

This is supposed to be a vacation.

I never noticed this thing before,

Andrew. What is that?

That's my spirit ball. If it works - which

I doubt - it penetrates the unseen world.

Oh, yeah? Which unseen world is that?

You do admit that there's more to life

than meets the eye? Either that, or I weep.

- Yeah, well, like what?

- Like ectoplasm and various energies.

I want that thing to emit light rays,

and to capture the future and the past.

Incidentally, I'm putting my cousin

Leopold and his fiance in our bedroom.

We'll take the guest room for the night.

It'll be much nicer before their wedding.

Imagine sharing a bed before marriage.

It's a little bit depraved.

I'm very anxious to meet your cousin,

cos I tried to read both his books.

I couldn't get through the first one

or the second one.

Is Maxwell going to come up alone

or will he bring a guest?

Maxwell appear without

female companionship?

You know better than that.

You look adorable.

Oh, Andrew. Um...

I don't know where he comes up

with some of these women.

He's a doctor. These poor women in

the tubercular ward show him gratitude.

Don't think I don't notice you leering

at his buxom weekend guests.

I leer. I admit it.

I look. I leer. I salivate.

I salivated the day that I met you.

Andrew, what are you doing?

- Come on, Adrian.

- It's high noon!

This'll give you an appetite.

Oh, Maxwell.

Sweetheart, listen.

We can't go on like this.

Why not?

Because my husband is beginning to

realise there's nothing wrong with me.

It's medically sound

to have periodic checkups.

Yes, but not so many. The president

doesn't have this kind of healthcare.

- Come away with me this weekend.

- Oh, I can't!

- Why? You know how I feel about you.

- You know how much I wanna come,

but it's just not possible.

This is the best weekend

of the whole summer.

- Oh, Maxwell!

- What?

If there are other guests,

we'll have to have separate rooms...

That's OK. You can always

leave your door unlocked.

- I can't.

- We'd have fun.

It's impossible! Stop asking me.

Another...

Another time, I promise.

- You swear?

- I swear. Now I have to go out.

Thank you, Doctor.

It's all right, Charles.

It's only a muscle spasm.

Come in next Tuesday at three.

I'd like to take one more look.

What are you smiling at, Miss Ford?

I was thinking about something

I read in The Katzenjammer Kids.

- What are you doing this weekend?

- Me? Oh...

I'll probably go to Coney Island. Why?

- Come away with me.

- Where?

To the country. The cousin of my

best friend's wife is getting married.

- A few of us are gonna celebrate.

- Really?

- Is it all right if I called you Dulcy?

- (laughs) Yes. I'm just surprised.

Did you not know that I've had my eye

on you these last two weeks?

I've only been working here for five days.

I lose track.

You always seem so shy around me.

The nurses on the floor say you're fast.

- Me?

- I mean, I think you're handsome.

Come with me. We'll have a fabulous

weekend. We'll sun, swim and drink beer.

Naturally, I'll make sure

we have separate rooms.

We don't need separate rooms.

I'm sorry about this afternoon.

- It's not your fault. It's probably me.

- I don't know what's wrong with me.

What's wrong is that

we have a bad sex life.

- But why?

- Because we never sleep together now.

- But what went wrong?

- Don't ask me.

Everything seemed great till about a year

ago, then you just sort of cooled off.

I've apologised to you

about a hundred times.

You don't have to. I must have done

something to make you feel that way.

No. I can't explain it. I just started

having those moods and odd feelings.

And the annoying thing is

that I get tense and I can't relax

and the whole thing gets destroyed.

I know. It's become a chore.

Right. It's not the kind of thing that

should be hanging over our heads all day,

that we're gonna be in bed together.

- It's not fair to you.

- It's not fair to you either.

That's why today at the barn I tried

to do it quickly and get it over with...

I don't mean "get it over with"

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