Quartet Page #3

Give them a break.

George is 78, Harry's 82.

Suppose they were

to stop smoking,

how much longer are they

going to live, a week?

It would probably rain

that week, anyway.

- You are a bad influence, Wilfred.

- I think so.

- Have you seen Reginald?

- He went to bed early.

Don't worry about him. He's as tough

as a monkey's tit, our Reggie.

I think we should worry

more about Jean Horton.

Ms Horton?

- Are you alright?

- Yes.

Isn't it a lovely room?

Well, you've had a very long day.

You might want to retire early.

Yes, I've not yet

entered second childhood,

so please don't talk to me

as though I have.

Just leave me be. And I'll

take my meals in my room.

Uh... we don't usually

serve the residents in their rooms.

I presume you do when the residents

are unwell. I am unwell.

Well, I... I hope you

feel better soon.

# So, please, sir, we much regret

If we have failed in etiquette

# Towards a man of rank so high

We shall know better by and by

# But youth, of course,

must have its fling

# So pardon us, so pardon us

# And don't,

in girlhood's happy spring

# Be hard on us,

be hard on us... #

- Where do you want it, Nobby?

- That's it, yeah.

# But youth, of course,

must have its fling, so pardon us... #

# La, la, la, la, la,

la, la, la, la. #

Yoo-hoo, Nobby!

Hello, big boy.

- Morning, Ms Robson.

- I'm coming right down.

Good morning, Nobby!

# La, la, la, la, la,

la, la, la, la. #

Reggie?

# You're the foundation,

I'm the cornerstone

# I'm born famous,

I'm sorta known

# And if your son doesn't,

I bet your daughter knows... #

Toccata and Fugue In D Minor

- Oh.

- Excuse me.

This room is occupied, Wilf.

Oh, I'm sorry. Oh, and don't

do your toes the same colour,

it's considered gauche.

No breeding.

Doctor, have you seen Reggie?

Yes. He's using the computer

in my office.

Thanks.

- Morning.

- Good morning.

Oh.

You OK, Mr Bond?

Mr Bond, are you OK?

I'm... just a bit dizzy.

I'm fine. Fine.

Ooh.

Reg? You OK?

- Can I get you a coffee?

- I'm preparing my talk.

Anything?

Reg? Coffee?

Close the door behind you, please.

Yeah. OK.

# I said, b*tch, listen up... #

Well, come in.

Jean?

It's me, Cissy.

Cicely Robson.

Oh! Yes, of course. Course it is.

Yes, do come in.

Ah, lovely room. Bigger than mine.

- How nice to see you.

- You haven't unpacked yet.

I've been telling everyone

you still look like a young girl.

Well, I don't feel it.

Look. Huh.

I'm on the waiting

list for a new hip.

Oh, dear. Lovely jewels.

You look beautiful.

You haven't changed a bit.

Did they serve you breakfast

in your room?

Course.

Who are all these children?

It's probably Reggie

giving one of his classes.

Yes, of course.

Reginald Paget's here, isn't he?

Yes.

Now I'd like to ask if any of

you have a favourite singer.

Don't be shy.

- Lady Gaga?

- Lady Ga-who?

I'm sorry. Lady Gaga.

I don't know about Lady Gaga.

Anyone else? You?

Do you like Lady Gaga?

Nah, Lady Gaga's pop.

I like hip-hop, period.

'Hip-hop, period'?

Is that the same as rap?

No, it's different, slightly.

- Would you mind telling me what rap is?

- Tell me what opera is.

No, yes, uh, well, yes,

I will... I will eventually.

No, you tell me what rap is

and then I'll tell you what opera is.

How about you tell me

what opera is

and then later on I'll

tell you what rap is?

There you go.

What can I do?

Uh, well, you know, originally,

it was people just like you

went to the opera.

Casual clothes, they took food,

they took alcohol, they threw things.

Anyway, that was

a long time ago

that rich people

took over the world of opera

with their fancy dress,

and they took the soul out of it,

they made it something that it's not.

What is it?

Uh, what is it?

Would you wait for me, Cissy, dear?

What? Oh, sorry, sorry.

I'm so excited.

Even I... even I... I've woken up

with the black dog on my shoulder

from time to time,

and it doesn't last for long.

You see, how could it? Because everyone

here looks after each other and...

Make up your mind, dear, please.

And there's so much to enjoy here,

people coming and going,

new faces, old friends,

new hobbies.

What's that dreadful noise?

I'm meant to be in there.

Side to side, basic.

Cissy, you're missing my class.

Come in, darling.

Forward and back.

Nice, hips, move those hips.

Side to side now. Shake it, ladies.

Shake it.

This is not a retirement home,

this is a madhouse.

God.

Hello.

Jean? Jean?

Birthday benefit gala,

emergency, top secret.

- Jean. - Didn't that used

to be Bobby Swanson?

- Yes. - Well, he didn't

seem to recognise me.

Isn't that odd?

'Birthday benefit gala,

emergency, top secret'.

Oh, whose birthday?

Mine isn't till January 6.

No, no, no. Not yours, darling, no.

No, Verdi's birthday.

There's a benefit gala

and we're all expected to perform.

- Wha...? Perform?

- Yes, we all do... what we do.

At our age? That's ridiculous.

No, it isn't.

Everybody can do something.

Well, I'm not singing at Verdi's gala

or anybody else's.

I don't sing anymore,

and that is final.

Jean, I was listening

to our Rigoletto this morning,

and we were all so good,

but... Jean, your Gilda,

it was magnificent.

Yes, I know.

I know. I never took less than

twelve curtain calls. Never.

Where is Reggie?

Um... I think he's round here.

Opera is, when a guy

is stabbed in the back,

instead of bleeding, he sings.

But it seems to me,

after much research,

that rap is,

when a guy is stabbed in the back,

instead of bleeding, he talks - albeit

rhythmically, even with feeling.

But because rap's spoken, the feeling is

sort of held in check, all on one note.

I think he's in here. This is the...

No, no, no, no.

This is the little music room.

This is the little m...

He'll be in the big music room

because that's where they

do all the big lectures, in here.

- Yes.

- No, Cissy, don't.

- He'll be thrilled to see you.

- Don't.

In opera, we sing what we're feeling,

and the song,

the rise and fall of the music,

sets our emotions free.

If you ask me,

I'd say to you that opera

is simply the outpouring

of all the emotions

that all of us carry inside us.

Now, Joey, I think it's your turn.

Show him what you can do.

- Oh, he can actually do rap.

- He's good.

- Come on.

- Alright.

# Opera's where you sing

your arse on stage

# Rap is where you're trying

to get your arse paid

# You're talking horny,

but we get laid

# We can't help what

we talk about

# We just talk and you sing it out

# Opera make you feel the pain too

# We wake up, we're 16 years old

# We look outside, the sky stays cold

# See, there's pain in my heart

# And every day I wake up,

and it's damaged

# But opera, you sing it out loud

# Get stabbed in the back,

you seem to manage

# Everybody thinks that opera and rap

are two completely different things

# But it's just talking, for us

# And for you,

it's just the way that you sing

# And everybody knows

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