Impromptu Page #4

You two can't be serious. Please.

Please, Alfred, don't go.

Um...

- I'll talk to Mallefille.

- No.

- I want to die.

- Oh, Alfred.

Darling, I want to be

on your conscience.

You destroyed my youth.

You buried my springtime in shadows.

Alfred.

I was much too good for you.

I spoiled you.

I gave you money.

I nursed you when you were sick.

Yes. And then you f***ed the doctor.

God, Alfred!

You were sick

because you'd been out every night

screwing all the whores in Venice

while I was sitting at my desk writing

so that we had a...

The horse is a critic!

Get out! Kill yourself, I don't care!

I hate you!

- Gentlemen, are you ready?

- Yes.

And...

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten!

I want to go home.

Mummy said

we can't go till the roads dry up.

But it's been raining

for three days now.

It's no use. We're prisoners.

Prisoners of the Bastille.

Guards are everywhere.

- We'll blast our way out.

- Yes!

Monsieur Chopin, it sounds

so like the raindrops, it's quite magical,

but I must ask you to produce

a little sunshine for us instead.

I'm about to go mad with the sound

of horrid rain, day in, day out.

Ordinarily I would just take a bromide

and go to bed,

but one has guests to entertain.

Stupid, stupid rain!

No need to entertain us,

Your Excellency.

Rather, it is our turn to entertain you.

- I've just written a play for your theatre.

- Oh, how gay!

Eugene will paint the scenery.

The maids can do the costumes.

- Chopin will provide an accompaniment.

- Delighted.

We'll play the parts and you will enjoy

this tribute from your grateful geniuses.

The style's a bit precious.

Do you mind if I rewrite it?

Not at all. We'll have a horse sent in.

What is the subject of your play?

- Noah and the flood.

- How appropriate!

Oh, this heat! Will it never end?

Here sits my stupid lout of a husband.

I don't know what God sees in him.

I hate those things. Can I see that?

You don't remember them

because you didn't write them!

I can't remember them

because they're sh*t!

Ah, children.

You are wanted in the theatre. Now!

There you are!

You must hurry.

Hurry up! Get into your costumes!

I am as excited as if it were an

opening night at the Comedie Francaise.

- You rode over in all this rain!

- A new play! This is a real treat!

Our artists have been up all night making

their costumes. It's terribly exciting!

You're not acting in this piece?

I have no stomach for farce.

I am here to cue you.

When I signal you like so,

you must play something

which suggests rain.

I expect this will be very amusing.

Yes.

Alfred and George have really

outdone themselves this time.

Do you know, I think they are still

in love with each other.

- Clap.

- Good evening.

I am God.

I have grown disappointed

in my master creation, the human race.

I endowed them with everything.

The riches of the land, sea and air.

And enough intelligence to worship me.

But they have become

arrogant and pampered.

I shall destroy them.

All except for one man and his family.

Ah!

This is my servant Noah

and his wife Noette and their children.

Into their hands

do I place the future of mankind.

Oh, this heat! Will it never rain?

Here sits my stupid lout of a husband.

I don't know what God sees in him.

Ah, who can express

the despair of youth married to age?

My husband is 600 years old

while I am but 150!

A dove! Ha!

What luck!

There will be good hunting today!

Look!

It has begun to rain!

Stupid, stupid rain!

Yes, I have sent the stupid rain

to fall upon the earth

and stupidity

shall engulf all its inhabitants.

Hurry now to the ark

and fill it with two each

of the creatures of land, sea and air.

Lord, we have no need for animals.

Art alone will save the world.

We'll need two of everything.

Two poets, painters, musicians...

They will not come... your conversation

is not witty and you have no ideals.

True.

But we shall also give them free food

and lodging for 40 days and nights.

We shall also need two playwrights,

two composers,

two makers of velvet flowers.

Now you go too far.

But it is an art, surely.

Noette, come quickly!

This stupid rain is up to our waists!

We are now half-stupid!

Soon we shall be completely stupid!

No matter! We shall have geniuses

surrounding us on the ark

and so our stupidity shall be concealed.

I want no further part

of this production!

Madame Sand, you insult our hosts.

But... it's in the spirit of fun,

Monsieur Chopin.

You disgrace our position as guests.

I for one was not brought up

to repay generosity with impertinence.

You want everything dusted with sugar,

like your music, Chopin?

You should know art does not apologise!

I shouldn't grieve if I never saw

another artist again in my whole life.

At last you've come to your senses.

Sorry.

Ah.

Do it the way you did it last time.

Something that makes me look

a little younger, please.

You always look young to me.

Perhaps I should

chop it all off like you.

Except that I'm not that crazy.

Aurora,

surely you can afford a dress by now.

I've got used to trousers. They're

comfortable and I can move around.

Can you feel that draught?

It comes straight through that wall.

I've told you before, Mama.

Don't stay here.

- Come back with me to Nohant.

- No, I want to be in Paris.

Besides, you don't need my company.

You have that young man.

What's he called?

Malle... Malle...

- Mallefille.

- Mallefille!

- A very dashing fellow.

- I wish he'd fall off the map.

You're always looking

for something better, Aurora.

If you'd stayed married,

you'd have money.

- You shouldn't beg for scraps like I did.

- I'm doing fine.

The only money I ever saw was what

your grandmother paid me not to see you.

You didn't have to take it.

That's rather nice.

I think I'll go dancing tonight,

get out of this dungeon.

- Can I be your partner?

- Certainly not. I want a proper man.

It's only for six weeks.

You only just got back.

It's humiliating!

I know you. Six weeks means six months.

My concerts raise money for the refugees.

The floods this year were devastating.

It's my country,

these are my people and they need me.

Suddenly

you're the patron saint of Hungary!

I couldn't stand

between you and mankind.

I'll return as soon as I can.

My beautiful archangel. I'll miss you.

- You made my milk come out.

- Hadn't you better feed the baby?

I gave up everything for you.

I disgraced myself for our dream, Franz.

All I wanted was to kneel at your feet.

- Don't start, Marie.

- Inspire you to write music.

- I can't get anything done here!

- Nor anywhere! You're impotent!

- Musically, that is.

- Get up!

You're a performing bear!

Are the countess and Monsieur Liszt

at home?

I will see, madame.

Is that the new baby?

She's adorable. Can I hold her?

Darling.

- Countess!

- Hello, George.

I just saw the new baby. She's adorable.

Was it a difficult labour?

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