Svengali Page #3

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us lock, stock and barrel, Billy's been

going around as if Svengali put him to

sleep too and forgot to wake him up.

Don't be a fool.

It's true, isn't it, Laird?

No, it isn't.

It's because he's working harder than you.

Working harder than us. Now, prove it.

Well, he gets more holes in his socks

which I have to darn.

He gets more paint on his shirts which I have to

wash.

And he gets more compliments for his

pictures which I have to pose for.

- Music-

Oh, has she ever kissed you like that?

Never more since Billy.

Nor me.

Well, I'll do it now to show it's one for all

and all for one.

Shame on you.

What have we done now?

I don't know why I allow myself to put a

foot into this studio.

Oh, Taffy, now is it because of old

Svengali's piano thumping?

If so, we'll be glad to pitch him out his

arrogant, unwashed neck, won't we, Sandy?

It has nothing to do with Svengali.

He didn't entice away my best model. You did.

Now, Trilby isn't the only model in Paris.

I'm not the only sculptor.

But who else do you suppose awakes the

creative genius in me now that Trilby has flown?

The model I have posing for me now looks like a

sack of potatoes.

Boiled, fried, or peeled?

In their jackets.

I am modeling only the head.

(Laughter)

There is the only torso worthy of

immortality in marble.

And what's it doing?

Washing dishes.

And you let her.

Philistines. Philistines.

Durian, to make amends, I will come

back and pose in ensemble.

I shall hold you to that

Hey! Hey!

(French)

I'll get some more glasses.

- Music-

What's the matter?

Nothing.

- Music-

Trilby.

What is it?

You didn't mean, that did you?

Mean what?

About posing for Durian again.

Of course I did.

Could you... will you promise me never to

pose for him again?

Why ever should I promise that?

I don't mean never again.

I mean not... not...

You mean not naked?

Do you think it's wrong?

It hurts me, Trilby, like a knife in my side.

What does?

I won't let you.

I won't.

Won't let me what?

What ever is the matter with you, Billy?

It makes me unhappy to see you like this.

I love you, Trilby.

That's what the matter is.

Can't you see?

I've never really loved anyone before.

I didn't know it would feel like this.

Is that all it is?

AII?

You are funny.

Yes, I know I am.

To make such a fuss about it, I mean.

I love you, too, but doesn't make me unhappy.

It would be an empty sort of world if we

didn't love people.

You know I didn't mean it.

I wanted to kill Svengali that day he

got you under his power and made you do

whatever he told you.

But he was only curing my headache.

He touched you.

He touched you with his long, dirty fingers.

I could have choked him.

Billy

I want to be the only thing in your life,

blotting out everything else.

I don't want to share you with anyone.

I don't want anyone to touch you.

If I were good enough for you, if I could

make you happy enough, I'd force you to marry me,

Trilby.

- Music-

Does that mean you will?

Of course it doesn't.

Why not?

All the reasons in the world.

Because I'm lame?

Oh, what a foolish thing to say.

There's never been anybody else, Trilby,

and there never will be.

Of course there will.

Mustn't behave as if it's the end of the world.

It's only the beginning.

But we can't talk about it now, please.

- Music-

(Crowd noise)

Sandy, I've got a horrid idea that idiot

Billy has fallen in love with Trilby.

I've long had the horrid idea that she's

falling in love with him.

Well, this might easily turn into a very stupid

business.

I think it's time we took the young

gentleman on a sketching tour of the French

countryside.

It's as good as done.

(Glasses Clang)

- Music -

- Music -

What are you doing here?

Where are the Englishmen?

Didn't you know? Off on a sketching tour.

They will never be missed.

I miss them. And I miss the fees they pay me for

modeling.

I shall have to go back to Curin, as drafty as a

railway station.

If you choose, you can put all that

nonsense behind you forever.

And do what? Starve?

Not if you put your trust in me absolutely.

Not if you do exactly what I tell you to do.

I don't think I fancy myself as a street musician.

You never listen to me, do you?

When I play that piano, I play it for you.

But you look the other way and smoke a cigarette.

You look at the pictures on the wall.

You look out of the window at the sky, at the chimney

tops.

Everywhere except at me. Only when you have the

headache.

Then, only then do you listen to Svengali.

If you think I'm not grateful.

I want more than that.

I want to give back to the world of music through

you. Il bel canto.

What's il bel canto?

The music of the spheres.

Sounds which only I can create in the human throat.

And only in your throat, Trilby.

But I sing like a duck. You said so.

You are not listening to me again.

You are looking out of the window.

Look a little lower on the other side of the river.

There is a little gray, ugly building.

It is called a morgue.

And in it are eight slanting slabs of brass

all in a row, and one day you will lie and sleep on

one of those slabs.

You, Trilby, because you would not listen to Svengali.

And over you will lie a leather apron, and over your

head a brass cap.

And all day long and all night long the cold

water will trickle all down your long, beautiful body.

And strangers will come and stare at you

through the glass window and say ah, what a

beautiful young woman.

She ought to be riding in her carriage en pair.

And then who should come riding by in his

carriage en pair in a rich fur coat and

smoking a big cigar but Svengali, with the world at

his feet.

And I will stand and look at you and laugh.

Why?

Because you prefer to be in love with

Billy than to conquer the world with me.

(Laughter)

Very well. Laugh. Laugh.

But the day will come when you will need me.

And on that day, somewhere a clock will

strike 12, and you will feel me call to you, and you

will come to me.

Don't be silly.

You find me very comic, don't you? A scarecrow, a

bogeyman.

But inside I'm just as alive as Billy. I feel just as he

does.

I weep and I laugh. I love and I hate.

But he looks down his nose and sees only his feet.

I look inward at my dream.

And my dream is for you, Trilby, to lay my

fortune, my genius, my glory at your feet.

(Laughter) you're mad.

You will never laugh at me again.

- Music -

Well, my boy, the simple country life

certainly seems to agree with you.

Well, if it does, it doesn't show in my work.

I think we've been on the move long enough.

Oh, we've only just left Paris.

And we did agree to work our way to the

Italian border and back through Switzerland.

You two fellows do that.

I can go back to Paris and wait for you there.

Oh, no. If you go back to Paris, so do we. Don't we,

Sandy?

We've done our best and failed.

Who are we to stand in the way of true love? You're

on your own.

Vive la boheme.

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