The Grass Is Greener Page #12

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I thought you were an

intelligent, civilized person,

and you behave like a barbarian.

Listen Victor, I know

I've behaved disgracefully.

But let me try and explain

what's happened to me.

Well, we know what

happened. You fell in love.

This past week I've been

more or less schizophrenic.

As if I had two heads, or something.

Two very pretty heads.

Here. Put this on.

Now, how should we do this?

Like this.

You know. One of my heads

is appalled at my behavior.

The other approves.

Two of my eyes are bewitched,

and dazzled, and so happy.

And the other two have tears in them.

I can't explain it any other way,

and I can't expect you to understand.

Of course I understand.

I'm only so grateful to you for not saying

this is something stronger than I am.

Well, if you want the plain,

honest truth that's exactly right.

Not that you appear

to give a damn anyway.

What makes you say that?

Well, from what I gather from Hattie.

All you said, was you

thought it would be a pity.

Oh, no. I said, I thought it would

be a pity if you ran away with Charles.

I can't see on what's called the

international set, my darling.

Not the glittler and glare of San

Mauritz, and Nassau, and Palm Beach.

You're English.

And you need the gentleness of the

rain and the soft winds of England.

And a nest of robins in my hair.

Besides, you'd be wearing

sunglasses all the year round,

and no one would see

the color of your eyes.

- It would be a very great pity.

- Well, who's suggesting such a life for me.

Well, Charles is. And how do I do that?

In here. No, put your arm in

first. Put your arm in first.

Well, at least you'd have a maid or

even perhaps two to help you pack.

Is that the only reason you

think it would be a pity?

Oh, no. Certainly not. I

can think of a thousand pities.

But none from your point of view.

Oh, yes indeed. But

let's not go into that.

Why not?

Because this is hardly the moment.

Let's just say I'd should

miss going to bed with you,

and there'd be no one to

do the Christmas cards.

You seem to have overlooked the fact

that if you hadn't invited

Charles down here for the weekend.

I should've already said goodbye to him

and the whole thing might've

been finished and done with.

Unfinished and done with.

That's very different.

The most unsatisfactory state

of affairs for all concerned.

Well, you think you've saved us all

that by getting shot up in a duel?

Not at all.

Although I admit a duel was

an essential part of an effort

to try to preserve our marriage.

I'm a little confused.

From the way you've been

talking, I imagined you were

Hellbent and hot foot

for the divorce court.

No, who said anything about divorce? I

never mentioned it. I don't like divorce.

What's more, I don't think adultery

is a sufficient ground for it.

Oh, what a masculine attitude.

I don't think marriage is just a

liaison to be terminated when the

sexual side of it gets

boring or irksome to either party.

Oh, it's never been boring or irksome.

Not for me, it hasn't.

And don't talk about either party.

It makes it sound like a contract.

Well, if two people make promises,

what else can it be but a contract.

You promised to be faithful.

Well, you've broken that one.

Must I respond by breaking one of mine?

To have and to hold.

From this day forth.

For better, for worse.

This moment in our lives must obviously

come under the heading "for worse".

And the popular measure to

take nowadays is to say, well,

the better part of it is over

and here we are with the worse so,

goodbye, my dear, thank you so

much. It was fun while it lasted.

You take your boyfriend, I'll take my freedom,

and I'll be on the Riviera before you.

Well, I think that's wrong.

If your mistress is unfaithful.

She should be discarded.

If your wife is...

she should be befriended.

Befriended?

Meaning helped and patronized?

Meaning beloved and cherished.

Unless she's a promiscuous

trollop of course.

Then the situation's out of

control and quite hopeless.

I am not a promiscuous trollop,

it's never happened before.

- Well, I didn't say you were and I know it hasn't.

- It has with you.

- Objection!

- Objection overruled.

How do I know that you're

not a promiscuous...

Well, whatever the

masculine is of trollop.

Well, if you're saying I don't like

French mustard or going to the Opera,

because we've been living

together for 12 years.

Oh, I wonder why living together sounds

so much more fun then if you said,

married for 12 years.

The hot water bottle, my lady.

Thank you, Sellers. Would

you put it here, please.

I'm sorry we didn't have our...

Well, how should I put it?

Our home win, my lord.

Oh, I'm sorry we kept you up so late.

- Thank you, Sellers.

- No, no, no. It's I who should be thanking you.

I've learned a great deal

from events this evening.

What have you learned, Sellers.

Well, amongst other things, that

my novel is no good, my lady.

Oh, dear!

I'm about to go to my

room and tear it up.

It's not true to life at all.

How can anyone say what's true to life.

Now, where was I?

Up a gum tree.

Oh yes, and very uncomfortable, too.

The role of complacent

husband I find distasteful.

And the jealous one, rather ludicrous.

To my annoyance, I turn out to be both.

- Are you jealous?

- Very.

Hmm, it would be rather

hurtful if you weren't.

You should feel gratified.

Yes, I do. Thank you, darling.

Are you really sure you're jealous?

Yes, I am. Quite sure. Why?

Cause I wondered if it wasn't

just a sense of possession

that had been aroused in you.

Losing something that belonged to you.

You mean like the

contents of a suitcase?

Oh no, it's a little more than that.

- Where is it?

- Where's what?

You know darn well what.

Come on, where is it?

- I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about.

- We are talking about the contents of a suitcase.

Oh.

Oh, well that was merely, as I

said before, a figure of speech.

Oh, yes it was, my darling.

Oh, I suppose I really shouldn't

call you my darling, should I?

Well, that too has become

merely a figure of speech.

I'd better get some more champagne.

This is beginning to hurt.

- Are you alright, do you think?

- Yes, thank you.

Then you get your champagne

and let me get you into bed.

Well, despite the fact I'm your husband.

Under the present circumstances, I

find that a most improper suggestion.

You may have talked a

lot of sense this evening.

But there's been an

awful lot of hot air, too.

Incidentally, do you think

I like growing mushrooms?

You think I like living in a few

rooms of an enormous, damp mansion?

And you know you're wrong

about the international set.

I'm sure I'd adore them.

I've always simply longed to meet them.

And I could water ski and aqua lung,

instead of that well known British

past time of making both ends meet.

It would be wonderful for the

children, too, wouldn't it?

Surely, you must see it's very tempting.

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