Henry & June Page #2

Her father was a count.

Later I saw a film and realized she | swiped her childhood out of the film.

And so?

So I married her.

She gave me the courage to quit my job | to write full time. She believed in me.

Somehow she got some money so | we could buy strawberries in the winter.

We're broke, | living in a dump in Brooklyn...

but we're living like kings.

Then one day she meets an artist.

Brings her home to live with us.

Pretty soon we're supporting Jean, too.

How is she getting the money?

- Pop. | - Pop?

Pop's her scam.

I found out about Pop only after | she barged in with a fistful of money...

and suggests I go to Paris to write.

Then she'll join me later.

I take one look into her lying eyes, | and say...

"Anything you say. "

Pack my bags | and I'm off to Europe.

But...

I'm not quite the sap | she takes me for.

Something tells me to double back...

and take a see.

But when I confront her, | she gets furious with me!

She said we would've starved | without Pop. "Pop's my patron saint. "

Your patron saint?

Yeah. That's what she calls him.

Only she's been telling Pop | that it's her writing.

That's why Pop's been buying it, | because of her.

How you doing? Bonjour.

And I should be grateful. | She's done it all for me.

Then she says, "I love you. "

And everything else vanishes.

In that moment, I lived eternities.

Why does she get angry, hurt, | jealous or cruel?

Why does she lie? | That I can't understand.

Maybe you're not asking | the right questions.

Oh, yeah? | What would you ask?

I'd asked:
| What makes her lies necessary?

What is she afraid of?

Who is she afraid of?

The kinds of things a woman would ask.

A woman?

Excuse me, pal. Could you spring | for a few francs? I'm short today.

Beat it!

I could give you some money | if you need it.

Thanks. That's swell of ya.

Careful.

See you, kid. | You can get home okay?

Yes, of course. I'll be fine.

Should be taxis all the time. | A lot of your swanky types come here.

See ya.

I'm getting interesting | shadowy images.

I like it.

You fall in love | with people's minds.

I'm afraid I could lose you | to Henry.

Don't be ridiculous.

He's so rough!

He calls me "kid. "

I hate him.

He's a parasite, an egoist.

Maybe it's just jealousy.

What are you jealous of?

His life seems | so full of pain and chaos.

He has someone who drives him | to pain and chaos.

Anais, meet my wife June.

Thanks for taking care of Henry.

He didn't describe you right.

You didn't, Henry.

The colors you've used!

It's as if you painted each room | for a different mood, Anais.

It's Anais.

Henry gets everything wrong.

Oh, sorry!

- Always merry and bright. | - You said it!

What's the title of your book | going to be?

I'm knocking around a couple.

I Sing the Equator | and Tropic of Cancer.

- I like Sing the Equator. | - No!

- Tropic of Cancer. | - Without question.

You are so absolutely right.

You see, Henry, I told you so.

So?

What do you think of her?

June? Not much.

You're afraid of her?

I just don't trust her. | Do you?

Trust her?

Of course not.

But you do think she's beautiful, | don't you?

No. That's the truth.

You have no aberrations...

no cruelty.

I don't want to be cruel.

I hate men who are afraid | of a woman's strength.

I'm not afraid of your strength! | I love it.

The stronger, the better.

Come here.

You don't hate me, do you?

Tell me some more truth.

Or some lies!

Whisper to me.

How would you lie to June...

if you were making love to her?

Making love to her?

Yes.

To her body.

Her voluptuous body.

She's so perverse, so naked.

Tell her that you love her.

I love you!

Hold tighter.

Possess her like a man.

I want to f*** her like a man.

- F*** her. | - I am.

I am f***ing her, P*ssy Willow.

Pretty good, Hugo.

I used to pace the six-day | bike races in Brooklyn.

- You're pretty damn good to keep up. | - Let's go!

I guess it's natural with me. | I've always loved sports.

Hey, come on!

That was fun.

A little different than horseshoes.

Match that.

- It's a tie! | - Okay. It's a tie.

You're like the schoolteacher. | I'm like the young girl.

Always merry and bright.

What's your name?

I'm Count Bruggar!

Where do you come from?

Count Bruggar's been on the stage.

That's why he's so spoiled.

Count Bruggar is not spoiled!

Jean made Count Bruggar.

She's an artist. | Her hands are incredible.

Her beauty's more like a man's.

She's no ordinary woman.

No ordinary woman | could make Count Bruggar!

- Quiet. We're talking. | - Shut up.

You shut up, too!

- Where did you learn how to do this? | - My parents were show people.

My father was a magician in the circus. | My mother was a trapezist.

I was born on the road.

What has Henry told you?

Nothing. Really.

He mention Pop?

No. Who's Pop?

Pop is a patron saint of the arts | I know.

Henry's jealous of him | because Pop's rich.

Henry sees a lecher under every rock. | You know how men get.

Do you love women?

What do you mean?

What about Jean?

Did Henry tell you about Jean and me?

No! You've been telling me | about her.

Sometimes he has a way of making...

everything ugly.

- He's not sleeping with you, is he? | - What?

I guess not.

- Did we pay? | - Let me.

Good. I've got to book my passage.

Passage? To where?

Home to New York.

Come on, Bruggar.

I've got my own life to lead. | So many things up in the air.

My friends, my acting. There's | an audition I don't want to miss.

Excuse me, | this is all the money you have?

Yes.

Sorry. I can't do anything for you.

What do you want me to do, swim?

Of course not.

We'll find a solution.

Something's happened. | I don't know.

The price has gone up, | or the exchange rate's gone down.

I tried to get a reduction, but I don't | have enough even for third class.

- Here. Let me... | - I couldn't.

Please, take this.

It's swell of you.

Thanks.

About that boat.

So, did you find a solution?

I hope so.

- I'd really like to travel first-class. | - It's possible.

Maybe you know a place | we could meet for a drink.

Let's say 6:
00.

- 7:
00's better. | - 7:00.

- Thanks. | - See you then.

Here I am.

This character, Mona. | She's supposed to be me?

Why?

Nothing.

It's so good.

I always wanted you to be...

Dostoyevsky.

- Is that good? | - Good?

I struggled, suffered...

for this?

This isn't me. | This is not me!

Of course it's you. | It's the you inside me.

It's a distortion.

Henry, look at me.

Look!

You can't see me or anyone | as they are.

I wanted Dostoyevsky.

Who can be Dostoyevsky with you?

You make that impossible! | What do you want?

- What do I want? | - Yeah?

After I brought the world to you?

After I told you all of my stories?

Sing my praises!

Make me an admirable character.

- I'm not a portrait painter. | - I'll say you're not.

Look what you've done to Anais.

You make everything ugly.

Beauty is a joke to you.

You're so negative.

You're a failure as a writer.

You're not a man. | You're a child!

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