Casanova Brown

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Cas, darling.

Oh, Madge. Madge.

- Darling, what's the matter?

- Madge.

What is it, sweetie?

Never let me

out of your sight again, please.

Darling, of course not.

And never, never, never mention

New York to me again

as long as I live.

Never. Never, never!

And in the third place, I have just

about reached the end of my patience.

This happens to be my home,

as little as a stranger might suspect it,

and it is intolerable that I should be

continually called on to defend myself

against an apparently endless series

of irresponsible and vulgar accusations.

And now,

I'm afraid I must ask you to leave.

- But, Grandpa...

- And if I hear one more word

about that blasted pig bank,

I'll be down those stairs like a ton of brick

and flatten that Meccano set of yours.

Did you hear that?

Why, Junior, what's the matter?

He...

Oh, nothing, Aunt Madge.

Nothing, really.

Don't you think we ought to wait

for a more propitious moment?

If he's already angry...

He's always angry since we put him

on an allowance. Come along.

Seems to me if he's already upset...

- You're not afraid of him, are you?

- Of course not.

You needn't be.

It's just bluff, all that grizzly-bear stuff.

He really loves us very much. All of us.

I do not.

May we come in?

No.

Cas wants to talk to you, Dad.

- Oh, hello, Cas.

- Hiya, J.J.

Go on in.

- Yes, but not you.

- I know.

I'll be downstairs.

Don't look so solemn. It's just a formality.

That's all.

What a revolting female she is, to be sure.

Sit down, Cas.

No, no, no. Over here.

Yes. Now, what can I do for you?

Well...

I've missed our little talks.

They were bright spots in my life,

but ever since you came back

from New York...

- Yes, I know.

- Well, it's quite all right, Cas.

I've not been entirely blind

to this little deadfall she's set for you.

But I've never lost confidence in you,

my boy.

You're much too intelligent,

much too shrewd,

to be taken in by that dreary female.

Well, perhaps I better make

my position clear, J.J.,

before you say anything else.

But of course, Cas. By all means.

Well, you've known me, you've known

my family for a good many years.

Yes.

We've never been well-to-do,

or anything like that,

but we've always maintained

a certain respectability.

Proud but poor,

I suppose you might describe us.

Well, of course, why not?

If the poor can get any satisfaction

out of being proud, why not?

It costs nothing.

As for my financial situation,

my salary as professor of literature

at the university isn't munificent,

but it's adequate.

I believe my prospects

for promotion are good.

Well, that's splendid, Cas, but I...

As for my character,

I believe I behave reasonably.

I'm not overly susceptible to girls.

So what? The point of this whole thing

seems to have eluded me somewhere.

Well, I'm simply trying to tell you

that I want to marry her.

Marry? Whom?

Marry Madge, of course.

Madge? Are you out of your mind?

- I am not.

- But whatever on earth for?

Because I love her, of course.

Love Madge? Oh, come now, Cas.

That's just downright silly.

You must have

some better reason than that.

No young man in his right mind would...

What is it? Her money?

Now, just a minute, J. J...

Because if it is, you might just as well

forget the whole matter.

I had precisely the same idea 25 years ago

with her mother.

I haven't the slightest interest

in Madge's money.

My income is quite enough.

Oh, they've got it, all right.

Scads of it. Buckets of it.

By george, I've dreamed about that dough.

Just to get my mitts into that cash box

for 10 minutes.

That's all I need. Ten minutes.

But no, they turned me down cold,

and I'll never forgive them, Cas. Never.

You know what I think?

I think you got exactly what you deserved.

For being a shameless,

unmitigated scoundrel.

I suppose so.

But it was a bitter disappointment

just the same.

Mrs. Ferris has already been kind enough

to give her approval...

Then I used to dream about outliving her.

Just sit it out, as it were.

Well, along came Madge

and then her sister

and now that odious child.

It's no use, Cas. I tell you, they're eternal.

All of them.

They'll still be here, squatting on that gold

when you and I are dust in our graves.

Listen, J.J. Yes or no? Just for the record.

No.

My conscience would never

give me a moment's peace

if I allowed myself to be a party

to any such feminine skullduggery.

I like you much too much

to see you sharing my fate.

Trapped in this duck press,

remembered only

for such sociological purposes

as may be necessary,

and no dough out of it, either!

Great Scott!

Don't any of these tightwads around here

ever give this poor child a quarter?

What's the matter?

Why don't you go on with it?

Mrs. Ferris wants it here.

Oh, no, darling, not at all.

It belongs over there, of course.

- But I...

- I don't think so, Mother, really.

Over there would be much better,

I'm sure.

Come on.

We'll move it back later.

Where's the sucker?

Oh, John. I do wish you wouldn't refer

to him in that way.

Supposing someone heard.

What would they think?

Where's the sucker?

He's at home, I suppose.

Rehearsal isn't until 12:00. He'll be here.

Who is it?

Hiya, Pop.

Hey, you still got time to crush out

of this booby-trap, you know.

There's a fast train leaving

out of here for Chicago, 1:00.

You can be across the border

and into Canada.

No use, J.J.

This is the day before my wedding.

And I refuse to be demoralized

by a cold-blooded, old sinner like you

so whatever you got to say,

you're just wasting your breath.

They cut my allowance again today.

Down to $25.

Good.

The shape of things to come, my boy.

Oh, rot.

Where else could you get $25 a week

just by sitting around

developing stomach ulcers?

Great Scott, man!

On the honeymoon,

before she called those lawyers in on me,

I frequently paid as much for a copy

of The Saturday Evening Post.

Come in.

- Good morning, Mr. Ferris.

- Good morning.

Isn't he the happy one, though?

Yes, under a democracy, Mrs. Smith,

every individual enjoys

the right and privilege

of being as much of an imbecile

as he pleases.

Thank goodness for that, Mr. Ferris.

It's a wonderful government we have here

in America and that's the truth.

- Yes.

- Just ads, it looks like.

- My blue suit, remember.

- Be back tonight.

- See you in church.

- Yes.

Thunderation!

- Now this is going just a bit too far.

- What is?

Are you planning already to have a family?

Would you object to minding

your own business for just a few minutes?

This is my business!

How many grandchildren he has

is every man's business.

And if you're negotiating already

with a maternity hospital...

What?

Let's see that.

Some men say they can't have

too many grandchildren.

But I'm one that can.

- Don't you know an ad when you see one?

- Ad?

They've got a nerve.

Soliciting a man's business

before he's even married.

Sounds unethical to me.

"Dear Mr. Brown... "

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