The Philadelphia Story Page #6

Well, I mean that

and a lot of things.

You know, we're gonna

represent something, Tracy...

you and I and our home.

Something straight, sound and fine.

Then perhaps Mr. Haven will be

somewhat less condescending.

You don't really mind him, do you?

I mean the fact of him?

"Fact of him"?

What do you mean?

I mean...

Well, you know.

That he ever was

my lord and master.

That we ever were...

I don't believe

he ever was, Tracy.

Not really.

I don't believe that anyone ever was

or ever will be.

That's the wonderful thing

about you, Tracy.

What? How?

You're like some marvelous, distant,

well, queen, I guess.

You're so cool and fine

and always so much your own.

There's a kind of beautiful purity

about you, Tracy, like a statue.

- George...

- It's grand, Tracy.

It's what everybody

feels about you.

It's what I first

worshipped you for from afar.

- George, listen.

- First, now and always.

Only from a little nearer now,

eh, darling?

L... I don't want to be worshipped.

I want to be loved.

Well, you're that too, Tracy.

You're that, all right.

I mean really loved.

But that goes

without saying, Tracy.

No. No, now it's you

who doesn't see what I mean.

I'd better get dressed.

I hate to be late.

Oh, nothing. Run along.

I'll be dressed when you get back.

You're Uncle Willie's guest of honor.

You mustn't be late.

That fianc of yours roared

out of here on two wheels.

Does he, by any chance,

ever walk anywhere?

When he likes, I expect.

I have a feeling he'll take that ring

tomorrow and go through center with it.

Seth, you idiot!

Very amusing, I'm sure.

Almost as amusing as the sight of you

with your arm around Mother.

I find very unamusing...

the stupid, undignified spectacle

we're making of ourselves...

for the benefit

of those two newspaper people.

Whose fault is it?

That's not the point. They can publish

anything they like about me...

but I insist that we inform Connor

and the camera lady...

that we're all aware

of their purpose here.

All right.

I'll tell them myself.

It'd look better coming from me

as the titular head of the family.

Of course, inasmuch as you've

let us in for it in the first place!

Keep that note out of your voice.

It's very unattractive.

Oh? How does your dancer friend talk,

or does she purr?

- Tracy!

- It's quite all right.

Sweet and low, I suppose.

Dulcet. Very ladylike.

You've got nerve to come back here in

your best head-of-the-family manner...

and make stands and strike attitudes

and criticize my fianc...

and give orders

and mess things up generally.

- Stop it instantly!

- I can't help it! It's sickening!

- As if he'd done nothing at all.

- Which happens to be the truth.

Anyway, it's not your affair.

If it concerns anyone...

Well, actually, I don't know

who it concerns except your father.

That's very wise of you, Margaret.

What most wives fail to realize is that

their husbands' philandering...

has nothing whatever

to do with them.

Oh? Then what has it to do with?

A reluctance to grow old, I think.

I suppose the best mainstay a man

can have as he gets along in years...

is a daughter.

The right kind of daughter.

How sweet.

No, I'm talking seriously about

something I've thought over thoroughly.

I've had to.

A devoted young girl

gives a man the illusion...

that youth is still his.

- Very important, I suppose.

- Oh, very, very.

Because, without her, he might be

inclined to go in search of his youth.

That's just as important to him

as it is to any woman.

But with a girl of his own,

full of warmth for him...

full of foolish, unquestioning,

uncritical affection...

- None of which I've got.

- None.

You have a good mind,

a pretty face...

a disciplined body that does

what you tell it.

You have everything it takes to make

a lovely woman except the one essential.

An understanding heart.

Without that, you might as well

be made of bronze.

That's an awful thing

to say to anyone.

Yes, it is indeed.

So I'm to blame

for Tina Mara, am I?

- To a certain extent, I expect you are.

- You coward!

But better that than a prig

or a perennial spinster...

however many marriages.

- Seth, that's too much.

- I'm afraid it's not enough.

I'm afraid nothing is.

- What did you say I was?

- Do you want me to repeat it?

A prig and a...

You mean you think I think I'm some kind

of a goddess or something?

If your ego

wants it that way, yes.

Also, you've been talking

like a jealous woman.

What's the matter with everyone

all at once, anyhow?

I've been asleep.

What time is it?

- After 7:
00.

- Call my house.

Tell them I'm on my way.

You'd better come along too.

You're the host tonight,

you know? Uncle Willie.

That's all over.

You're yourself again. So am I.

- You've told them?

- I shall at the first opportunity.

My first party, and about time.

- Can I have a cocktail?

- Certainly not!

- It's a dirty gyp.

- That dress hikes up a little behind.

- No, it's me that does.

- You look adorable, Dinah.

Oh, thanks, Tracy.

Thanks ever so much.

Tracy, you must dress.

Let's all have a last drink.

I'm sorry. I forgot. You never drink.

- Prigs don't.

- What's that?

- Nor spinsters.

- Again, please?

Nor goddesses of any variety.

Not completely.

Just a borderline case.

Miss lmbrie and I

have something on our minds.

Splendid.

Just the place for it. What?

- We'd like to say something.

- I'm all ears and eyes.

You're a vision of loveliness,

Miss lmbrie.

Will you have a cocktail

or champagne?

Oh, champagne.

I've never had enough.

You will, tonight.

- I'd like to say...

- I have something to say first.

- I am Seth Lord.

- No!

- Then that makes you...

- Available.

And you are Miss lmbrie

of Spy magazine.

- Now you know.

- I was going to tell you...

- As to the reasons...

- Not now. We ought to be early.

And who'll go with me

in my little car?

Dinah and I. Seth, will you take

Miss lmbrie and Mr. O'Connor? Dinah?

I can tell there's something in the air,

because I'm being taken away.

Well, I'll see you all later.

Don't do that.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

Miss lmbrie?

You know, I felt exactly

as though I'd been pinched.

Don't you think you weren't.

You aren't even dressed.

Um, you go ahead.

I'll, uh,

follow along with George.

What's the matter with Tracy?

You tell me, will you?

Darned if I know.

I'd like to.

Well, Macaulay,

if you ever happen to find out...

I'll tell you. Sure.

And remember, Mike:

- "With the rich and mighty"...

- "Always a little patience"?

Do you know what time it is?

It's after 4:
00.

In China it's later than that.

In China we'd be married by now.

Or perhaps it's only yesterday.

I'm going home after this dance.

There was a Chinese poet

who was drowned...

while trying to kiss

the moon in the river.

- He was drunk.

- I'd say as much.

But he wrote beautiful poetry.

Macaulay Connor of South Bend

reporting for duty.

I'm sorry, we're going home

after this dance.

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