A Summer Place Page #9

You are the son of a drunkard

and a harlot.

- You're wrong about Mother, Dad.

- Gone to her side, have you?

I'm not taking sides,

I just wanna marry Molly.

Oh, Johnny.

Stop being a silly sentimentalist.

It's stupid.

Molly is merely a succulent little wench.

She's not a wench. She's everything

I've ever dreamed of in a girl.

Oh, don't make me laugh.

They're all alike in the dark.

You can't make her cheap.

You can't do it, in spite of your damned

supercilious, intelligent mind.

And with or without your consent,

we're getting married.

Let's go, Johnny, please.

One hundred thousand apologies, Molly.

I didn't know you were there.

I could tell that,

and I didn't wanna hear any more.

- Please sit down.

- No, thank you.

You say you want my consent

to get married...

...and yet you say that with or without it,

you'll get married anyway.

That's right.

Well, let's all look at this thing rationally,

shall we?

I'm about to transfer myself

to the Naval Hospital in Boston...

...from whence I may never emerge.

It's a matter of ulcers beyond control.

Then why are you drinking, Dad?

Because I've already signaled

the Coast Guard to come and transship me...

...and I know they haven't got

a bar aboard.

As I dimly remember

the wedding ceremony...

...the parson says:

"If any person knows just cause

why this man and this..."

This man and this woman, you two.

"...should not be joined together

in holy matrimony...

...let him speak now

or forever hold his peace."

I shall speak now.

You're... You're very young.

Youth is supposed to be a joyous,

carefree time.

Thanks to your parents, that time

has been cut short, too short.

But that doesn't mean

that you can't resume it...

...and go to dances

and to football games...

...and neck on the way home.

Does that sound frivolous to you?

Well, some of the best parts of life

are frivolous.

This may sound strange

coming from an inebriate...

...but I have observed that there is

a moral law at work in the world.

And that sinners pay...

...in one way or the other.

Why don't you lie down, Dad.

I'll get your medicine.

No, I'm fresh out of it.

So I say stop this affair right now.

And then if, as time passes you...

...you discover each other again,

well, go ahead, get married.

Have my words made any sense to you?

No, Mr. Hunter, because you left out

the one word that really counts:

Love. The love that Johnny and I have

for each other.

The Coast Guard's come for me.

Well...

...I profoundly hope

you do not get married.

But if you do, well...

...maybe life's only a dice game after all.

And if it is, our family's certainly due

for a winner.

Sorry to get you up, sir,

but we wanna get married.

- How old are you?

- Twenty-one, sir.

Both 21.

- Got your birth certificates?

- No. No, but we can send for them.

Come back when you have them.

Well, we can go to another state.

I'm sure there's another state

where we can get married.

I'm tired, Johnny. It's been a big day.

Do you think we can get some sleep?

We can go to a hotel.

They'd only ask for our marriage license.

Well, then we can go to a cheap motel.

No. I'd hate the way they'd look at us.

Do you think we can sleep in the car?

Hello.

And Bart left them on their own?

Then called the police? Why?

Well, at least he had the courtesy

to call you.

Now, don't get hysterical, Helen.

Call your doctor and have him give you

a sedative. I'll take care of this.

Yes. Yes. Good night.

Bart called Helen from a hospital

in Boston.

Molly's run away from school

with Johnny, damn them.

What was that about the police?

Bart told Helen he thought they ought to

be put in juvenile court to cool off.

Cool off? From what?

It seems Molly's pregnant.

- Do you think they're looking for us?

- Why should they be?

Well, they're coming from the town

we just came from to get married.

Let's stop kidding ourselves, Johnny.

I don't think anybody's gonna marry us.

We can't do it alone.

We're going to have to tell Papa

and your mother.

What about your mother?

- She'll have a nervous breakdown.

- You know what I think?

I think your father's gonna beat

the living daylights out of me.

You know what? I kind of wish he would.

Sylvia.

They're home.

Papa.

- Hush, baby, I know.

- We live in a glass house.

We're not throwing any stones.

Thanks for wanting us.

You got a fight ahead of you, kids.

But you've got the beauty and strength

of love on your side.

And if we can find

our sense of humor too...

...why, these are the weapons

of the angels.

Sure glad to have you back, Johnny,

you and your pretty new missis.

- Happy honeymoon.

- Thank you.

In front of God and everybody this time?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes