Limelight Page #2

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If it's anything of that nature|don't be afraid to tell,

maybe I can help.

I'm an old sinner,|nothing shocks me.

It's nothing like that.

Are you sure?

Positive.

But you have been ill?

Yes. I was five months|in the hospital with rheumatic fever.

Is that all?|Then what are you complaining about?

It's ruined my health.|I can't work.

What do you work at?

I was a dancer.

A dancer!

A member of the Empire ballet.

And I thought you were a...

So, you're a ballet dancer.

Pardon me, we haven't met formally.|What is your name?

Thereza Ambrose.|But I'm called Terry.

Charming. How do you do.|I'm also in the business.

My name is Calvero.|Perhaps you've heard of me.

You're not the great comedian?

I was.|However, we won't go into that.

Whatever brought you|to this state of affairs?

Ill health, mostly.

Then we'll have to get you well.

It isn't the ideal spot|for convalescing,

but you're welcome to it,

if you can put up with being|Mrs. Calvero. In name only!

It won't inconvenience you?

Not at all.|I've had five wives already.

One more or less|makes no difference.

Moreover, I've arrived at the age

where platonic friendship can be|sustained on the highest moral plane.

Now let me see, your mother was|a dressmaker and your father a lord?

The fourth son of a lord.|That's quite different.

How is it he married your mother?

She was|one of the family housemaids.

Sounds like a novelette.

- Did he have any money?|- No, the family cut him off.

So your sister's|the only one living?

Yes, and she's in South America.

Tell me, was it just ill health|that made you do what you did?

- That, and...|- And what?

The utter futility of everything.

I see it even in flowers,

hear it in music.

All life aimless,|without meaning.

What do you want a meaning for?

Life is a desire, not a meaning.

Desire is the theme of all life!

It makes a rose want to be a rose,|and want to grow like that.

And a rock want to contain itself|and remain like that.

What are you smiling about?

Your imitation|of a rose and a rock.

I can imitate anything.

Ever seen a Japanese tree?|They're lopsided, they grow this way.

Of course pansies grow this way.

The dark ones frown and go like that.

However, the meaning of anything

is merely other words|for the same thing.

After all, a rose is a rose.|Not bad, should be quoted.

Think how meaningless|life was a moment ago.

Now you have|a temporary husband and a home.

Here's your drinking water,|and in case of any emergencies,

the first door on the left,|the same on each floor.

Good night.

Spring is here!

Birds are calling

Skunks are crawling

Wagging their tails for love

Spring is here!

Whales are churning

Worms are squirming

Wagging their tails for love

Of which I sing

That makes us all bewitched?

That comes in Spring

That gives us all the itch?

Oh, it's love

It's love love love love

Pardon me,|but have you a fly swatter?

I beg your pardon.

If you beg around here,|I'll call the police.

I repeat, I beg your pardon.

I don't care what you've eaten.

I've eaten nothing.

Poor dear.|Here, get a sandwich.

- Sir, I demand an apology!|- I don't know you.

Who are your people?|Are you in the social register?

- My name happens to be Smith.|- Never heard of them.

That shows you're asinine.

I should have worn my overcoat.

You've interrupted me|in the middle of my sonnet.

In the middle of your what?

Not in the middle of my what,|the middle of my sonnet.

My ode to a worm.

Oh worm, why do you turn|into the earth from me?

'Tis Spring! Oh worm!

Lift up your head

whichever end that be|and smile at the sun

untwine your naked form|and with your tail, fling!

High the dirt in ecstasy!

'Tis Spring! 'Tis Spring!|'Tis Spring!

Ridiculous!|A worm smiling at the sun!

- Why not?|- A worm can't smile.

Did you ever appeal|to its sense of humor?

- Of course not.|- Well then!

But it doesn't make sense.

Why should poetry|have to make sense?

Don't you know there's such a thing|as poetic license?

I've given you no license.

Oh no, don't!

This thing is so much bigger|than ourselves!

At this moment|I'm grasping the meaning of life.

What a waste of energy.

What is this urge|that makes life go on and on?

You're right.|What does it all mean?

Where are we going?

You're going south.|Your hand's in my pocket.

Naughty.

- How did it get there?|- Pure magnetism, old dear.

Why are you antagonistic|towards me?

Must we be serious?

You make it difficult to know you.

Read my memoirs|in the Police Gazette.

- You're a funny man.|- Why?

To talk about worms|the way you do.

Why not? Even flies are romantic.

- Flies?|- Oh yes.

Coming from the stable|to the table,

chasing each other over the sugar|and meeting in the butter.

- You've read "The Life of the Bee"?|- No, I haven't.

The bee's behavior in the beehive|is unbelievable.

Really?

- Gezundheit!|- It certainly does.

- I beg your pardon?|- The dress. It goes on tight.

You're awful dusty tonight, my dear.|Turn around.

Where do they keep you?|On the top shelf or something?

Fuller's earth? Johnson's powder?|I know! Cornstarch.

Just think!|All life motivated by love.

How beautiful.

- By no means beautiful.|- It certainly is.

No, it's vile, wicked, awful!|But wonderful.

- I like you.|- Really?

You're sensitive. You feel things.

Don't encourage me.

It's true. So few people|have the capacity to feel.

Or the opportunity.

Allow me.

Use it only for what you wish.

Come in.

Good morning. How do you feel?

- Better, thank you.|- Good.

What a day!

The sun's shining, the kettle's|singing, and we've paid the rent.

There'll be an earthquake,|I know it.

What would you like for breakfast?

We have eggs, bacon,|cheese, spring onions...

That's broken my dream!

I dreamt we did an act together,|all about Spring.

Interesting.

I get lots of ideas in my dreams,|then I wake up and forget them.

You know, I've been dreaming a lot|about the theater lately.

Doing my old acts all over again.

Kippers. Aren't they superb!

What's wrong?

It's my legs! I tried to get up|this morning and I collapsed.

I can't even stand.

You got up too soon.

No, it's not that.|I have no feeling in them.

They're paralyzed. I know it!

Don't upset yourself.|After breakfast we'll call the doctor.

I'd better go to a hospital.

You know best,|but see what the doctor says first.

I can't stay here,|causing you all this trouble.

I'm not complaining.

You should, I'm such a bore.

But it's not my fault.|You would save my life.

Well, we all make mistakes!

I'm sorry.

You should be. A young girl like you|wanting to throw your life away.

When you're my age,|you'll want to hang on to it.

Why?

Well, at this stage of the game|life gets to be a habit.

A hopeless one.

Then live without hope.|Live for the moment.

There are still, there are still...

There are still wonderful moments.

But if you've lost your health!

My dear, I was given up for dead|six months ago, but I fought back.

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