Harold and Maude Page #10

COP:

(patiently)

Lady, is it true you're driving

without a license?

MAUDE:

(equally as

patient)

Check.

COP:

And that truck - is it registered

in your name?

MAUDE:

Oh no! Not in my name.

COP:

Then whose name is it registered

in?

MAUDE:

Well, I don't know. Do you know,

Harold?

COP:

Where are the papers?

MAUDE:

I suppose they are in the truck.

Are you going to take a lot of

time with this?

COP:

Wait here.

MAUDE:

Because if you are...

COP:

Lady! Be quiet.

The cop goes over to the truck. We FOLLOW him as he sits

in the front seat, opens the glove compartment, and begins

looking through some papers. Suddenly he hears the start

of an engine. He looks up. Maude is on the motorcycle,

revving it up, and motioning Harold to get on board.

MAUDE:

Grab the shovel, Harold.

Harold hesitates. He looks over at the cop, who begins to

get out of the truck. He makes up his mind, grabs the

shovel, jumps on the seat behind Maude, and they both go

careening off down the road. The cop takes out his gun.

COP:

Stop! Or I'll shoot!

He fires several times.

107CLOSEUP - MAUDE ON THE BIKE

She hears the shots.

MAUDE:

Oh! It's just like the Resistance.

She begins maneuvering the bike in defensive zigzag

patterns.

108LONG SHOT - THE HIGHWAY

The cop, helpless, watches them disappear over the hill.

109INT. GLAUCUS' STUDIO - NIGHT

The ice block is as we saw it the first night - unfinished

and melting. Glaucus, bundled up in his winter clothes,

falters towards it with a heavy hammer and chisel. He is

fighting off sleep as only a very old man can. He manages

a blow on the ice and then shuffles back to see its

effect. He mumbles all the time.

GLAUCUS:

The bitter dregs of Fortune's

cup to drain - The Iliad...

Almost finished... Gotta make

it... Going to make it...

Liberate Love... Set her free.

He staggers to the statue and back again.

Harold and Maude enter, laughing.

MAUDE:

Oh, those motorcycles are awfully

chilly.

HAROLD:

Yeah. And it is cold in here.

Hello, Glaucus.

GLAUCUS:

Cold... Yes... Yes... Gotta turn

up the heat... Excuse me...

He turns up the heat.

HAROLD:

Here's your shovel.

GLAUCUS:

What?... Oh yes... Shovel... Create

... Verily these issues lie in the

lap of the gods... Iliad... Just

sit down for a minute.

Glaucus wanders over to his couch and sits, still mumbling.

GLAUCUS:

Not giving up... Just for a minute

... Then once more up the hill...

Harold walks over to the ice sculpture.

HAROLD:

I think I see it.

MAUDE:

Yes. It's almost there.

Glaucus, his eyes barely open, gets up and shuffles in

place as if he is walking over to the statue. He works

his tools in the air and then shuffles in place as if he

is walking back. He examines his work. He sits.

GLAUCUS:

Yes... almost done... have a

little rest. Not long... Just

a little rest... then once more

up the hill...

He falls back slowly asleep.

HAROLD:

I think he's asleep.

Glaucus pops up.

GLAUCUS:

Aha! Morpheus. I'll...

He mumbles and makes an effort to raise his tools. His

eyes close, but he is still fighting.

GLAUCUS:

Gonna make it... Gonna make it...

Make it...

He drifts back against the cushions still holding the tools

in his hand. He is finally asleep.

Harold and Maude have been watching Glaucus's gallant battle.

Maude smiles and turns to go. Harold looks at the sculpture.

HAROLD:

The ice is melting.

MAUDE:

Yes.

HAROLD:

Don't you think we should turn

off the heat?

MAUDE:

(brightly)

Why? There'll be a new block of

ice in the morning.

110INT. MAUDE'S PLACE - NIGHT

Maude and Harold are dressed in bright Japanese kimonos.

They are relaxing on cushions in the Japanese nook after

having just finished supper. Maude puffs pleasantly on a

hookah.

HAROLD:

I like Glaucus.

MAUDE:

Yes, so do I. But I think he

is a little... old-fashioned.

Like a puff, Harold?

HAROLD:

Well, I really don't smoke.

MAUDE:

It's all right.

(she offers him

the hose)

It's organic.

HAROLD:

(smokes)

I'm sure picking up on vices.

MAUDE:

Vice? Virtue? It's best not to

be too moral. You cheat yourself

out of too much life. Aim above

morality. As Confucius says,

"Don't simply be good. Make good

things happen."

HAROLD:

Did Confucius say that?

MAUDE:

Well --

(she smiles)

- they say he was very wise, so

I'm sure he must have.

HAROLD:

You are the wisest person I know.

MAUDE:

Me!

(she laughs and

shakes her head)

When I look around me I know I

know nothing. I remember though,

once long ago in Persia, we met a

wise man in the bazaar. He was

a professional and used to sell

his wisdom to anyone willing to

pay. His specialty for tourists

was a maxim engraved on the head

of a pin. "The wisest," he said,

"the truest, the most instructive

words for all men at all times."

Frederick bought one for me and

back at the hotel I peered through

a magnifying glass to read the

words - "And this too shall pass

away."

(fluttery laugh)

Well, the wise man was right - if

you remember that, you can't help

but live life fully.

HAROLD:

Yes. I haven't lived.

(he suddenly

giggles)

I've died a few times.

MAUDE:

What was that?

HAROLD:

(he is getting

a little high)

Died! Seventeen times - not

counting maiming.

(he laughs)

Shot myself in the face once with

a popgun and a pellet of blood.

MAUDE:

(laughing with him)

How ingenious! Tell me about them.

HAROLD:

Well, it's a question of timing,

and the right equipment, and plenty

of patience... You really want to

hear about this?

MAUDE:

Of course.

HAROLD:

(he smiles)

Okay.

Partly because of the pot, but mostly because he has found

a friend, Harold opens up for the first time in his life.

As he gets into the story he tells it with such animation

and delight that we are amazed at all the fun and zest he

has kept locked up inside him.

HAROLD:

Well, the first time it wasn't

even planned. It was when I was

at boarding school and they were

getting ready for the school

Centennial Celebration and they

put all the fireworks and food

and stuff in this room in the

West Wing. Well, on the floor

above they had the Chemistry Lab

and I had to stay in and clean

it up. So I thought I'd do a

little experimenting. I got all

this stuff out and began mixing

it up. It was very scientific.

I was measuring the amounts.

Well, suddenly there was this big

fizzing sound and this white kind

of porridge stuff began erupting

out of the beaker, and moving along

the desk and falling onto the floor.

It was making an awful mess. So I

got the hose to try to spray it

into the sink. I turned on the

water and - POW! There was this

massive explosion. Knocked me down.

Blew out the floor. Boards and

brick and flames leaping up. Singed

my hair. Smoke everywhere. I got

up, then this sound like bombs

going off. It was the fireworks

in the room below. And all this

stuff came flying out the hole.

PACHAU! Skyrockets and pinwheels.

And fire balls all whizzing and

bouncing. And I was just standing

there stunned - I couldn't believe

it - just watching - being pelted

by all these little pellets - turns

out to be the goddamn popcorn spewed

up from below. The whole place was

a crazy inferno with the rockets

and everything, and I couldn't get

to the door. But behind me was

this old laundry chute, so I

hopped in that and slid down that to

the basement. When I got outside

I saw that the whole top of the

building was on fire and, of course,

it was pandemonium with people

running around and fire alarms

ringing. So I decided to go home.

When I get there my mother is having

this big party so I creep up the

back stairs to my room. Then there

is this ring on the doorbell. It's

the police. I creep over to the

banister to see what they say, and

they tell my mother that I had

been killed in a fire at school.

Well, everyone got very quiet.

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