Waltz of the Toreadors Page #6

My infidelities?

How dare you!

Don't perjure yourself. What about these letters?

- Well...

- Well?

You ransack a woman's privacy.

- You a senior officer!

- Look.

All this is irrelevant.

These letters, explain these letters.

They were never sent,

unlike certain other letters,

both sent and received,

- to your fancy woman.

- What are you...?

The woman you...

you brought to this house.

I've seen her, you old fool!

Damn you!

I'm leaving you.

That's right, my hero,

bolt like a frightened horse!

Leave me here, dying.

You're not dying.

I am! Oh!

- Oh, oh, my heart!

- What's wrong with it this time?

It's shrinking. It's getting smaller and smaller.

It's the size of a jingle bell now.

Emily, let's have an end

to this stupid play-acting.

Stop all this stupid nonsense, Emily.

Do you hear me?

Oh, my God!

Oh, she's really done it this time.

Emily.

Emily! Emily, say something. Emily,

say something, please.

- My heart...

- Oh, so you're not dead.

I suppose I'd better get your drops for you.

Enough here to kill a carthorse.

There you are.

Don't clench your teeth, my love.

It's dribbling all over your kimono. There.

What's the matter with you, hm?

I'm dying for want of your love.

Don't be silly, Emily.

You used to bite me, and caress me,

and carry me to my bath.

Yes, well, we all have to grow up sometime.

Why don't you bite me

like a young terrier any more?

Young terriers grow old,

and anyway, I've lost my teeth.

You've teeth enough for other women.

- Oh, don't start that.

- It's because I'm old and ugly.

You forced me to keep house for you,

feed your sickly children.

Well, good God, woman,

that's a wife's duty, isn't it?

Before I married you, I had a superb voice,

a dazzling future on the stage.

Yes, in the back row of the chorus.

Look here, Emily,

this discussion is completely useless.

I'm leaving you, and that is final.

Oh, oh, my heart!

Goodbye, Leo. I've never loved anyone but you.

- No, Robert.

- But why not? I love you, Ghislaine.

Marry me. Come away with me now.

No.

I have made up my mind.

I'm old enough to be your...

well, your aunt, anyway.

- It's impossible.

- Oh, but nothing is impossible.

I can prove it to you.

How?

Well, I'll show you.

- Oh!

- Listen to me.

When you find someone you love,

don't wait 17 years.

Go to it.

- Now, that's good advice.

- Who gave it to you?

Eh? Well, the General.

Oh, my poor Robert.

You are even younger than I thought.

Ghislaine... Ghislaine!

Goodbye, Robert. We will always be friends.

Stop!

No. No, Robert. I told you, it's no use.

Aargh!

Oh! Oh, you brute!

Oh!

You just want to give me your cold, that's all.

I want to give you much more than my cold,

Ghislaine, honestly.

I despise you.

Oh, how dare you!

I love you.

No...

Non.

- No.

- You...

Oh, non! Oh, non!

Au secours!

Oh l l!

Aargh!

Leo!

Leo!

Be quiet! Out!

Did you see the new girl?

Get out of here.

They're still picking out the pretty ones for you.

Get out of here, madam. These...

These are my quarters.

So is this where you demonstrate your prowess

with the kitchen maids?

I don't suppose you're much use to them, either.

Oh? What do you know about it?

I know what a woman feels

when she's left unsatisfied.

Who could satisfy you?

Learn to satisfy one woman, be a man,

before you go chasing after the rest of them.

Oh, so I haven't been a man to you, is that it?

Soon weary, my friend. Soon asleep.

Well, you should have gone to others.

Yes, you should have found stallions

to suit your needs.

A woman, sir, belongs

to whoever takes and keeps her.

Then let them have you, madam,

with my compliments.

Because, let me inform you,

it took great imagination

to do what was required of me of an evening.

Do you think it took less imagination

not to be continually frustrated?

- You don't think it was you I thought about?

- How vulgar you are!

How vulgar and shameless!

And if that's true,

why didn't you leave me years ago?

Because I am your wife.

Not for much longer, you're not.

- Before God and the law, I'm your wife.

- Get away from me.

You'll never get away from me.

I'll run up debts, I'll ruin you.

- I'll disappear into thin air. You'll never find me.

- I'll follow you to the far ends of the earth.

And when I die, will you follow me there, too?

When you die, I shall cry out, ''I was his wife.''

My name will be carved on your grave,

and when it's my turn,

I shall come and lie by you for good.

My God, woman, I hate you.

What difference does that make?

I'm your wife.

Aa... Aargh!

No, Robert. No!

I've got you!

I'll sue you for divorce.

And who will have you, you old fool?

Someone.

Your fancy woman?

She's young and beautiful,

and she's waiting for me.

Waiting for you?

17 years.

Oh, it's too silly!

Huh, laugh!

lf you really loved her,

you'd have left me long ago.

I stayed out of respect for your grief,

and pity for your illness,

which I mistakenly took to be genuine.

Oh, what a fool you are!

Do you think I respected your grief or your pity?

Or your rank or your name?

What do you mean?

Do you remember that ball?

When was it? Yes, 17 years ago, oddly enough.

I remember it. Why should you?

I shall never forget it.

I was still in love with you,

impossible as that seems now.

And I'd been faithful, in spite of your mistresses.

But the ball, what was it to you?

You were dancing a waltz

with a silly-looking ninny of a girl.

What was it they were playing?

They were playing the Waltz Of The Toreadors.

Well?

He became my lover.

A complete stranger?

I won't even ask his rank.

Not immediately, of course.

I was a respectable woman. I waited.

How long?

Three days.

Three days!

I waited 17 years. I'm waiting still.

After that, there were others,

until I grew too old and only you would have me.

But if you've been unfaithful to me,

why these stupid attempts to hold on to me?

Because I hate you.

I hate you for what you've done to me.

Let me go.

But I love you, too.

- What do you mean?

- Oh, not as a lover.

We've never made love like that.

Nor for your talk of life and honour. It bores me.

- Then for God's sake...

- Nor for your rank or your wealth.

I've been offered more.

Then why? Why?

Because you belong to me.

You're mine.

Like my house, my jewels, my furniture.

Mine, like your name.

Whatever you promise others,

you'll...never be anything but that.

Dance with me.

Just this last waltz.

The Waltz Of The Toreadors.

Dance with...with your bag of bones.

Dance with your remorse.

Dance with your love.

Don't touch me!

How is she?

Oh, ticking over nicely.

Good for another 10,000 miles.

Thank God.

You're the one who's in danger.

What do you mean?

I mean, your mademoiselle has found herself

another interest,

one with a bad cold.

Young Robert.

I prescribed a linctus for him,

but I dare say her treatment

will yield more spectacular results.

Coucou.

Oh, comme il est malade, mon pauvre petit chou.

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