Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Page #7

a survival kit. Do you hear me?

I hear you. You come in loud.

All right.

You want to play it by ear, right?

Everything's gonna work out anyway

because the timetable's history, right?

Right. Just tend to your knitting,

grandma. I'll be okay.

I've tried to...

Tried to reach you, to...

- Make contact?

- Yes.

- Communicate?

- Yes, exactly.

That's touching. That's downright

moving, that's what that is.

- Up yours.

- What?

You heard me.

Honey?

Honey?

Take the trouble

to construct a civilization...

...to build a society based on

the principles of...

- Of principle.

- Honey?

You make government and art and realize

they are, must be, both the same.

You bring things

to the saddest of all points.

To the point

where there is something to lose.

Then all at once,

through all the music...

...through all the sensible sounds

of men building...

...attempting, comes the "Dies Irae."

And what is it?

What does the trumpet sound?

Up yours.

Bravo.

Thank you. Thank you.

Here we are.

A little shaky, but on our feet.

- It wasn't too bad, really.

- Put this on.

- I'm not cold.

- Just put it on, we're leaving.

- You're what?

- We're leaving, going home.

Wait a minute,

what's been going on here?

- What have you been up to?

- I'll get the car.

- I'll call a cab.

- I insist.

- George.

- Yes, love?

Just what the hell

do you think you're doing?

Now, let me see.

I think what I'm doing is...

...I'm getting the car to take

our little guests home.

Well, aren't you going to apologize?

The road should've been straight.

Not that. For making her throw up.

- I did not make her throw up.

- You certainly did.

- I did not.

- Who do you think did, sexy back there?

Think he made his own wife sick?

- Well, you make me sick.

- That's different.

No, now, please. I throw up.

I get sick occasionally all by myself,

without reason.

- Is that a fact?

- You're delicate, Honey.

I've always done it.

- Like Big Ben, huh?

- Just watch it.

George makes everybody sick.

- When our son was a little boy...

- Don't, Martha.

...he always threw up

because of George.

I said don't.

It got so bad that whenever George came

into a room, he'd start right in retching.

Our son used to throw up all the time,

wife and lover...

...because you were always

fiddling at him.

Breaking into his bedroom,

kimono flying, fiddling.

I suppose that's why he ran away

twice in one month.

Twice in one month.

Six times in one year.

Our son ran away from home

because Martha used to corner him.

I never cornered

the son of a b*tch in my life.

He used to run up to me

when I'd get home and say:

"Mama's always coming at me."

- Liar. Liar!

- That's the way it was.

She was always coming at him.

Very embarrassing.

If it was so embarrassing,

why are you talking about it?

- Thank you.

- I didn't want to talk about it at all.

Oh, I wish I had some brandy.

I love brandy, I really do.

- Good for you.

- It steadies me so.

I used to drink brandy.

You used to drink bergin too.

Shut up, Martha.

- What?

- Nothing, nothing.

- Did he tell you about that?

- Well...

- Come on, he must have said something.

- Actually, what we did is...

...we sort of danced around a little.

Oh, I love dancing. I really do.

- He didn't mean that.

- Well, I didn't think that he did.

Two grown men dancing. Heavens.

He didn't start in on how

he tried to publish a book...

...and Daddy wouldn't let him?

- Please, Martha.

- A book? What book?

- Please, just a book.

- Just a book?

Oh, look, dancing.

- Why don't we dance? I'd love dancing.

- Honey, Honey.

- We're almost home.

- I want some dancing.

- That's not such a bad idea.

- I love dancing, don't you?

- With the right man, yeah.

- I dance like the wind.

- Stop the car. We're going dancing.

- Martha.

- For heaven's sakes.

- Did you hear me?

All right, love. Whatever love wants.

I dance like the wind

Well, put one on, will you?

Yes, love. How are we gonna

work this, mixed doubles?

You don't think I'd dance with you?

Not with him around, that's for sure.

And not with twinkle-toes either.

I'll dance with anyone

I'll dance by myself

- Honey, you'll get sick again.

- I dance like the wind.

Wonderful

All right, kiddies,

choose up and hit the sack.

All right, George, cut that out.

- Honey.

- Cut it out, George!

What, Martha? What?

All right, you son of a b*tch!

- What'd you say, love?

- It stopped.

Why did it stop?

- Give me some change.

- What?

- I said give me some change.

- No.

Honey. Honey. Honey.

Stop that!

You are always at me

when I'm having a good time!

- I'm sorry, Honey.

- Just leave me alone.

I like to dance

and you don't want me to.

- I would like you to dance.

- Just leave me alone!

Choose it, Martha. Do your stuff.

You're damn right.

Hi, sexy.

You wanna dance, angel b*obs?

- What'd you call my wife?

- Oh, boy.

No, if I can't do my interpretive dance,

I don't wanna dance at all.

I'll just sit here.

Okay, stuff, let's go.

- We'll just sit here and watch.

- That's right.

- Hi.

- Hi.

You are strong, aren't you?

I like that.

They dance like they've danced before.

It's a familiar dance, monkey nipples,

they both know it.

I don't know what you mean.

- I like the way you move.

- I like the way you move too.

- They like the way they move.

- That's nice.

I'm surprised George didn't tell you

his side of things.

- Well, he didn't.

- That surprises me.

- Does it?

- Aren't they cute?

He usually does

when he gets the chance.

I don't think he trusts me.

It's really a very sad story.

- Is it?

- Oh, it would make you weep.

You have ugly talents, Martha.

Is that so?

Don't encourage her.

- Encourage me.

- Go on.

I warned you, don't encourage her.

He warned you.

- Don't encourage me.

- I heard him. Tell me more.

Well...

Georgie-boy had lots of big ambitions...

...in spite of something funny

in his past...

...which Georgie-boy here

turned into a novel.

His first attempt and also his last.

- Hey, I rhymed. I rhymed.

- Yeah, yeah, you rhymed. Go on.

I warn you, Martha.

But Daddy took a look

at Georgie's novel.

You're looking for a punch in the mouth.

Do tell.

And he was very shocked

by what he read.

- He was?

- Oh, yes, he was.

A novel all about a naughty boy-child.

- I will not tolerate this.

- Can it.

A naughty boy-child...

...who killed his mother...

...and his father dead!

Stop it, Martha!

And Daddy said, "Look here.

I will not let you

publish such a thing."

- All right, the dancing's over.

- Violence, violence.

And Daddy said, "Look here, kid.

You don't think for a second I'm gonna

let you publish this kind of crap?

Not on your life,

and not while you're teaching here.

You publish that

and you're out on your ass."

- Desist, desist.

- Desist.

I will not be made mock of.

He will not be made mock of...

...for chrissake.

- I will not. The game is over.

- Just imagine...

- Yeah.

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