Cluny Brown Page #8

If we ever have a row again,

do tell me we're having one,

so we may have a

long, long chat about it afterward.

- Oh, rot!

- See you later, darling! Come on, girl.

- That's letting her have it, old boy.

- Well, she asked for it.

Think of it,

one day some mars going to marry her.

Decent chap, probably. Poor devil.

There's only one thing I can say for her,

she sits a horse well. Hang it.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Yes?

How much did I lose at backgammon

this morning? 36d, wasrt it?

- I think so.

- Here it is.

1, 110d, 2...

3... One, two, three, four, five, six.

Nice fellow, this Andrew.

Oh, I see.

You came to tell me all about Andrew.

No. I came to talk to you about Cluny Brown.

- Cluny Brown?

- I suppose you've never even noticed her.

- Ought I?

- Let me ask you something.

Who do you think unpacked your three

suitcases, two hat boxes, one overnight case?

Who put away your golf bag,

your tennis rackets?

Elves, gnomes, midgets?

I see. Cluny Brown.

Well, as a matter of fact,

I was just about to ring for her

- to help me off with my boots.

- Oh, I'll do it.

As I remember,

this Cluny is a sweet little thing.

A bit talkative.

- Did she say anything about me?

- Oh, I'm sure she did, Professor.

But then, she talked about everything.

Miss Cream, you have

the most charming way of tossing bouquets

just as if they were bricks. I like you.

And you do sit a horse well, hang it.

- Shall we get back to Cluny Brown?

- Hmm? Oh, all right. Well, you see,

Miss Brown wants the evening off

to attend a birthday celebration.

- How exciting!

- Now, here's the situation as it stands.

Mrs Maile and Mr Syrette are willing

to excuse her from serving dinner.

- Well, then everything's settled, isn't it?

- Not quite.

Remember, Miss Brown is also

your personal maid.

Now, the question arises, Miss Cream,

can you get in and out of your clothes

without breaking your neck?

- That, I don't know.

- Try it, will you? My little lamb, my sweet.

And if you should break your pretty little neck,

just yell Belinski!

And if you promise not to come,

Miss Brown may have the whole night off.

- Thank you, Miss Cream.

- A pleasure, Mr Belinski.

- Cluny, the evening is yours.

- Oh, Mr Belinski, you are a friend!

You see, it's not only Mrs Wilsors birthday,

but things have sort of been happening.

- Why, Cluny!

- Yes, they have.

Mr Wilson has spoken to his mother about me.

- Oh, I'm sure she approved of you.

- Well, anyhow, she didn't say no.

Well, that's very encouraging.

And then Mr Wilson asked his aunt

and Mr Latham, his solicitor,

- and everybody he possibly could ask...

- Did he ask you?

Oh, no. That's just it.

You see, he might tonight.

Or he might not. That's the suspense.

Oh... And so romantic, Cluny.

(NERVOUS CHUCKLE)

Mr Belinski, I...

Oh, no. No, I can't tell you.

What? Well, you're not

keeping secrets from me, are you?

Well, all right, then. I had a dream last night.

- But don't tell Mr Wilson.

- Does he forbid you to dream?

Forbid? How could...

Oh, no. But you see, Mr Wilsors so sensible.

And I don't think he'd object to dreams

as long as they were sensible.

But I dreamed about you.

- Cluny, you did?

- Mmm-hmm.

You don't know

how wonderful you looked in a fez

and how you rode that black Arabian stallion.

Whee! You just burned up the sands!

And you swooped me up off the desert

and sat me right in front of you in the saddle.

My, did we sit a horse well.

- Tell me, Cluny. Did I take you to my tent?

- You were taking me somewhere.

But I remembered our pact just in time

and kicked myself.

And took the kick right out of the dream.

Mr Belinski, do you wish I'd gone to your tent?

No, Cluny. You did the right thing.

I have no tent.

Not in the desert nor anywhere.

Well, you'd better run along now. Good luck.

Same to you.

MRS WILSON:
(CLEARING THROAT)

(CLEARS THROAT)

(CLEARS THROAT)

Mother, friends...

As the Romans so aptly put it,

tempora mutantur.

That is to say, times change.

65 years ago, Mother wasrt even here.

And today she has been here 65 years.

Tempora certainly do mutantur.

Thank you.

But before we examine

those 65 well-spent years,

let me thank you all

who came to celebrate this joyous occasion.

You, Mr Snaffle, Mrs Snaffle,

Miss Snaffle, Mr Tupham, Mrs Tupham,

and Mr Latham.

Perhaps you noticed that I am guilty

of an omission.

But when you hear later what I have to say,

or better, to announce,

concerning a young lady not too far away,

I am sure you will agree that sometimes

an omission is an admission.

(MECHANICAL RATTLING)

I didn't do it. It's the plumbing!

I just turned on the tap.

(RATTLING CONTINUES)

- It's the plumbing, Mama.

- Don't say that.

- But it was.

- Sit down and be quiet.

Let's go on. 65 years...

(RATTLING CONTINUES)

65 years of useful service...

- I can fix it.

- I beg your pardon?

Some of you might not know it,

but I'm a plumber's niece.

Just give me a hammer and a wrench

and I'll show you.

- I'll get it, Miss Cluny. I know where they are.

- Miss Cluny, I wish you wouldn't.

Oh, there's nothing to it.

It won't take more than five minutes

and then nothing

will interrupt your announcement.

I might not cook the best

tripe and onions in England,

but whoever gets me

won't have to worry about his plumbing.

RONALD:
There you are, Miss Cluny!

If it's a joint, a couple of bangs might do it.

If not, we'll try something else.

(RATTLING CONTINUES)

(HAMMERING)

(LOUD BANG)

(WATER BUBBLING)

Hurray! She did it. I saw it. It's running!

That's my birthday gift to your mother,

Mr Wilson.

Mrs Wilson...

(CLEARS THROAT)

Goodnight, Mrs Wilson.

- Goodnight.

- Goodnight, Mrs Wilson.

(CLEARS THROAT)

- Mother, why...

- Shh!

What's the matter? Is your mother ill?

No. Mother just wanted to be excused.

- Goodness me, it's getting late.

- Yes. We really must be going.

- Yes, quite late.

- Thank you very much for a delightful evening.

I hope it wasrt too much for your mother,

my boy.

- I hope not.

- Goodnight, Mr Wilson.

Goodnight, Mr Wilson.

Goodnight, Mr Wilson.

Goodnight, Mr Wilson.

Goodnight, Mr Wilson.

Thanks for letting me watch, Cluny.

- You were a great help.

- Come on, Ronald.

- Did I do something wrong?

- I wish I hadrt seen what I saw.

I was only trying to help.

I'd rather not discuss anything

till you make yourself presentable.

(DOOR OPENS)

(SIGHS)

- What does one do with a woman like you?

- One feels like a fool and gets out.

In a hurry, Professor.

A good beating. That's what I ought to do.

- Give you a good beating.

- Mmm, sounds very tempting,

but unfortunately I've been brought up

to resist temptation.

Now will you take your primitive instincts

out of my room,

or shall I scream?

Why are you so vicious to my friend Andrew?

Oh, I see.

This time you came to talk about Andrew.

And I thought it was a personal call.

You're sure it isn't, Professor?

Miss Cream,

you hold no attraction for me whatever.

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