The Seven Year Itch Page #2

Ten fingers to type my letters.

Well, let me tell you.

- Did you type this letter?

- Yes, Mr. Sherman.

There are six errors

in the first paragraph.

What is the matter with you?

- What's the matter with you?

- I'll tell you what's the matter.

I'm in love with you.

I have been since the day I came here.

Deeply, madly, desperately,

all-consumingly.

And to you I'm nothing,

just a piece of furniture.

Ten fingers to type your letters with.

Mr. Sherman, take a look at me.

I'm a woman, do you hear?

With flesh and blood

and nerves and feelings!

I'm in love with you.

I need you, I want you. I want you

That will be all, Miss Morris.

You remember that torn shirt, Helen?

Now you know how it happened.

It got torn at the laundry, that's

how it happened. What an imagination!

You don't realize this

about women and me:

I walk into a room

and they sense it.

I arouse something in them,

I bother them.

It's a kind of animal thing I've got.

It's quite extraordinary.

The only extraordinary thing

is your imagination.

Last winter when I had

my appendix out...

...do you remember the nurse?

That sweet, little old lady

with the gray hair?

That was the day nurse.

You never saw the night nurse,

a certain Miss Finch.

Poor Miss Finch.

She fought it as long as she could.

- But then one night...

- Richard!

Miss Finch, please, not again tonight.

We have so little time.

Soon they'll take out your stitches

and I'll have lost you forever.

Please, Miss Finch.

There is such a thing as ethics.

Remember, you are a registered nurse.

Ethics? Once I had ethics.

Once I was young.

Once I had ideals. I was registered!

And then you happened.

Miss Finch, for five nights now

you've been taking my pulse.

Have you never noticed

this simple band of gold?

You've bothered me since they wheeled

you into the operating room.

I can't understand it.

There's this animal thing about you.

Please, Miss Finch, my adhesions.

Let's crash out of here.

Let's steal an ambulance.

You're not fit to wear that uniform.

You're rotten to the core.

Beat me till your arms ache.

I'll only come crawling back for more.

You're forcing me to take measures...

...to protect you from yourself.

No, no!

Put me down! Put me down!

The moth and the flame,

that's what it was.

Poor Miss Finch. I hope I didn't

singe her wings too badly.

You read too many books

and see too many movies.

For instance, take Elaine.

Your best friend, your bridesmaid.

Let me tell you about that weekend

in Westport last summer.

You were playing canasta,

suspecting nothing.

Elaine and I went for a walk. Walk!

We went swimming, moonlight swimming.

What is this strange animal thing

you have? It bothers me.

It's bothered me

since the first time I saw you.

And it'll bother me always,

from here to eternity.

You must fight it, Elaine.

Remember, I belong to another.

Richard!

This can never be. I have a devoted,

trusting wife at home.

And a freckle-faced

little space cadet.

Richard!

So, Helen, in light

of the circumstances...

...I resent your calling

to check up on me.

Don't worry about me.

Although I have tremendous

personal magnetism...

...I also have strength of character.

And tremendous imagination.

You've begun to imagine it

Cinemascope, with stereophonic sound.

Well...

...back to work.

Chapter three:

"The Repressed Urge in the Middle-Aged

Male. Its Roots and Its Consequences."

Helen is worried. I just know she is.

She plays it cool,

but she can't fool me.

Why else would she call

in the middle of the night?

She probably figures she isn't

as young as she was. She's 31.

One day she'll wake up

and find her looks are gone.

No wonder she's worried.

I don't look different

than I did when I was 28.

It's not my fault, it's just

a simple biological fact.

Women age quicker than men.

I won't look different when I'm 60.

I have that kind of a face.

Everybody'll think she's my mother.

Hello, Mother?

Oh, Helen!

I wasn't expecting you to call

till 10. Everything all right?

Everything's fine here. Seems pretty

empty without you, though.

Just sitting out on the terrace...

...drinking, getting fractured

on raspberry soda.

Little Ricky okay? Oh, he did?

He hasn't done that for a long time.

It's the excitement.

That's nice.

Who did you meet on the train?

Tom MacKenzie?

What's he doing up there?

My advice is to avoid Tom

like the plague.

I don't want him

carrying Ricky's kayak.

If anybody carries Ricky's kayak,

it's gonna be you.

How's the weather? Cool?

It's steaming here, like an oven.

Yeah, I'm pretty tired myself.

Night. Good night, darling.

Chapter three:

"The Repressed Urge

in the Middle-Aged Male.

Its Roots and Its Consequences."

Maybe a twist of lemon would help

this, or a shot of Worcestershire.

Hey, what's the big idea?!

You wanna kill somebody?

- What's the matter?

- This great cast-iron pot...

...practically killed me.

Oh, it's you. Well, hello again.

What happened?

Oh, the tomato plant fell over!

It sure did.

- I'm terribly sorry.

- It's nothing.

Look at that poor chair!

I'll pay for it. I hope it's not

some priceless antique.

- It's just early Sears, Roebuck.

- If there's anything I can do...

Do what? There's nothing

to worry about.

I'm certainly glad you're not mad.

Now don't touch it.

I'll have the janitor come down...

...and take care of it. Good night.

- Hey there! Wait a minute.

- Yes?

I'll tell you one thing you could do.

If you're not doing anything else

more important.

Would you have a drink with me?

- Thanks, I'd love it.

- You would?

Sure, it'd be fun.

Let me just go and put something on.

I get dressed in the kitchen.

When it's hot like this,

I keep my undies in the icebox.

- In the icebox?

- See you in a minute.

In the icebox!

I really need it, Dr. Murphy.

Honest I do.

Don't worry, Dr. Murphy

Just one, that's all.

All those lovely

injurious tars and resins.

And now a small concession

from Dr. Summers?

Doctor, let's be reasonable.

Can't fly on one wing.

Okay, I'll put some soda in it.

"Do you want to come in for a drink?"

"I'd love it."

Just like that.

A beautiful girl too.

Must be a model or actress.

Atmosphere.

I need a little atmosphere.

Tomato plant.

Fan caught in the door.

What am I doing?

This is absolutely ridiculous.

The first night Helen leaves,

I'm bringing dames in here.

Take it easy.

There's nothing wrong with asking

a neighbor down for a drink.

I hope she doesn't get the wrong idea.

If this dame thinks she's in for

a big time, she's in for a surprise.

One drink and out!

I'm a happily married man.

Maybe a little soft music.

She's probably getting all fixed up.

She'll probably wear

some ice-cold evening dress.

Let's see. Debussy, Ravel.

Stravinsky.

Stravinsky'd only scare her.

Here's the baby, Rachmaninoff.

Give her the full treatment.

Come in like gangbusters.

Good old Rachmaninoff.

The Second Piano Concerto.

Never misses.

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