MARY:
Goodnight, darling.
JOHN:
Goodnight.
(effects of bed creaking and bedsprings twanging)
MARY:
John - how much longer is this going to go on? This lying awake at
night, tossing and turning, talking and arguing, never knowing
what you're thinking - what's on your mind, John? Why can't you
sleep? Why can't you rest? Oh John - where's the sleep that knits
up the ravelled sleeve of care? Oh John - if there's anything I can do
or say that'll help you rest a little - John? - wake up!
JOHN:
What is it - what is it?
MARY:
Oh, John - can't you see what I'm doing to you? ... Why are you
laughing?
JOHN:
I always laugh when you do that to me.
MARY:
Oh John - talk to me!
JOHN:
I'm sorry, I've got things on my mind - I'm tired - I'm worried
about the chickweed - it was thoughtless of me, I know, but God
knows I haven't had much sleep skinning that bison last night ...
MARY:
Which bison - not George?
JOHN:
No, Henry.
MARY:
So Henry's dead.
JOHN:
Yes.
MARY:
I can't say I'm sorry, he was mean, even for a bison.
JOHN:
I'm going to sleep.
MARY:
John - talk to me - say something to me - say you hate me, say I'm
ugly ...
JOHN:
Which?
MARY:
Say I'm ugly.
JOHN:
You're ugly.
MARY:
You're only saying that - you don't really mean it! You don't care -
you never think about me - up and down all night, warming the
milk, mashing the rusks, all the crying and the bedwetting -
JOHN:
Yes I know ...
MARY:
I wouldn't mind if we had a baby.
JOHN:
I'm sorry, but I prefer bisons - good night.
MARY:
John - what's happening to us?
JOHN:
I know you know.
MARY:
You know?
JOHN:
Yes.
MARY:
Oh God. John -
JOHN:
Yes?
MARY:
What do you know?
JOHN:
Well I could be wrong.
MARY:
You mean about me and Nigel?
JOHN:
Oh, I was wrong! I thought it was Rupert.
MARY:
You're right - it is Rupert - I can never remember names.
JOHN:
Anyway I know about last Friday.
MARY:
Last Friday?
JOHN:
Yes - he was in my bed wasn't he.
MARY:
How did you know?
JOHN:
He kept pushing me out.
MARY:
You mean you were there too?
JOHN:
You didn't even notice? Oh, God!
MARY:
Well, you've been having your little bit of fun, too. I noticed the
lipstick on your cheek, and I suppose it was you who took my
mascara.
JOHN:
I was playing circuses.
MARY:
All right - but I've something else to say - I don't want Mother in
the front room any longer.
JOHN:
But, Mary -
MARY:
It's no good - you've got to bury her.
JOHN:
But she's still useful - she still feeds the dogs.
MARY:
No, no - they haven't touched her for weeks.
JOHN:
But, Mary - can't you see ...
MARY:
She's not my mother.
JOHN:
Well, she's not my mother.
MARY:
Oh!
JOHN:
Mary?
MARY:
Yes?
JOHN:
What's your second name?
MARY:
Cleethorpes.
JOHN:
Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I seem to have made some sort of silly
mistake - I'm awfully sorry about this ...