Blithe Spirit

NOEL COWARD:
We are quite, quite wrong!

Once upon a time,

there was a charming country house,

in which lived a very happily married couple.

- Edith, you know the cocktail shaker?

- Yessum.

Well, l want you to fill two of those long-stemmed

glasses from it and bring them up here.

And, Edith, as you're not in the Navy,

it's unnecessary to do everything at the double.

And, Edith, when you're serving dinner,

try to remember to do it calmly and methodically.

- Yessum.

- Now, go and get the cocktails.

- Not at a run, Edith.

- Yessum.

What do you suppose induced Agnes

to leave us and go and get married?

The reason was becoming

increasingly obvious, dear.

Yes, we must keep Edith in the house more.

- Oh, dear.

- What's the matter?

- l have an idea this evening's going to be awful.

- l think it'll be funny, but not awful.

Why did you ask the Bradmans, darling?

He's as sceptical as we are.

- He'll probably say the most dreadful things.

- l warned him.

There had to be more than three of us

and the vicar and his wife are a) dreary

and b) wouldn't have approved at all.

You must promise not to catch my eye. lf

l giggle, and l'm very likely to, it'll ruin everything.

You mustn't. You must be dead serious

and, if possible, a little intense.

We can't hurt the old girl's feelings,

however funny she is.

(Horn)

That was her.

Oh. That's her, is it?

l've seen her in the village several times.

She certainly is a strange woman.

The vicar told me he saw her up on the knoll

on Midsummer Eve dressed in lndian robes.

She's been a professional in London for years.

lt's funny. l mean, to think of people

doing it as a profession.

l believe it's very lucrative.

- What is Mr Condomine getting out of her?

- Material for his book, a mystery story.

To The Unseen.

l must say, that's a wonderful title.

lf this evening's a success,

l shall write the first draft tomorrow.

Was Elvira a help to you,

when you were thinking something out?

Poor Elvira.

lf l died before you'd grown tired of me,

l wonder if you'd forget me so soon?

- What a horrible thing to say.

- l think it's interesting.

l haven't forgotten Elvira.

l remember her very distinctly indeed.

l remember how fascinating she was

and how maddening.

l remember her gay charm when she'd achieved

her own way and her acidity when she didn't.

l remember her physical attractiveness,

which was tremendous,

and her spiritual integrity, which was nil.

Was she more physically attractive than l am?

That's a very tiresome question

and fully deserves the wrong answer.

- You really are very sweet.

- Thank you.

- And a little naive, too.

- Why?

Because you imagine that l mind about Elvira

being more physically attractive than l am.

- l love you, my love.

- l know you do.

But not the wildest stretch of the imagination

could describe it as the first careless rapture.

- Would you like it to be?

- Good heavens, no.

Wasn't that a shade too vehement?

We're neither of us adolescent, Charles, or have

led prim lives. We've both been married before.

A careless rapture would be incongruous

and embarrassing.

l hope l haven't been a disappointment.

Don't be so idiotic.

Your first husband was older than you.

l wouldn't like you to miss out all along the line.

There are moments, Charles,

when you go too far.

Sorry, darling.

lf l died, l wonder how long it would be

before you married again.

You won't die. You're not the dying sort.

- Neither was Elvira.

- She was, now l come to think of it.

She had a certain ethereal quality.

Nobody could call you even remotely ethereal.

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