(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.
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 ...
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?
MARY: Oh God. John -
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.
JOHN: What's your second name?
JOHN: Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I seem to have made some sort of silly mistake - I'm awfully sorry about this ...