Florence Foster Jenkins

'Swounds I should take it,

for it cannot be but I am pigeon-livered

and lack gall to make oppression bitter,

or ere this I should have fatted all the

region kites with this slave's offal.

Bloody, bawdy villain!

Remorseless, treacherous,

lecherous, kindless villain!

O vengeance!

(applause)

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Thank you. Thank you, thank you.

That was, of course,

a speech of Hamlet's

from a play I was lucky enough

to perform in on several occasions,

though not, as yet,

in the principal role.

- Our next tableau...

- (whooping)

...features someone

who has devoted herself

to the musical life of this city.

Amongst others,

she is patron of the Euterpe Club,

of the Brooklyn Orchestra

for Distressed Gentlewomen,

as well as, of course,

our very own Verdi Club.

Let us journey back in time to 1850

and the state of Alabama.

America's greatest popular songwriter,

Stephen Foster,

has run out of ideas.

(plays tunelessly)

- He's a desperate man.

- (audience laughs)

(audience laughs)

But wait. What is this?

(trill on piano)

Now. That's it.

More.

(applause)

It is the Angel of Inspiration

sent from on high.

(ding)

( plays "Oh, Susanna")

At last Stephen Foster

can write his song.

I came from Alabama

with my banjo on my knee

I'm goin' to Louisiana,

my true love for to see

Oh, Susanna!

Oh, don't you cry for me...

- Hold her. Hold her!

- I came from Alabama

With my banjo on my knee

- (man) Bravo! Bravo!

- (applause)

The Angel of Inspiration,

featuring Madam Florence Foster Jenkins!

It's going very, very, very well.

I don't feel that I imbued

the moment of inspiration

with the intensity it deserved,

but it was a serviceable attempt.

Better than serviceable. It was good.

- My amulets, please.

- Armlets.

Has the impending potato-salad

catastrophe been averted?

Even as I speak, the chef has a team

out scouring Manhattan for chives.

No chives. What next, I wonder!

Unconscionable, but they tell me

there is a war on, Bunny.

(man) Valkyries on stage, please.

The overture has begun.

What about the sandwiches?

Ham and tomato, plain cucumber and

chicken with a hint of Dijon mustard.

- Actually delicious.

- Excellent. How do I look?

Wunderbar!

Now, schnell, schnell. Go on, quickly.

You're a very naughty Valkyrie.

( Wagner:
"Ride of the Valkyries")

We now come to the finale

of our evening.

I should warn you

that the vision you're about to witness

will be both shocking and terrifying.

A battle is raging.

Volleys of arrows pierce the air.

Shields clash

and swords do their terrible work.

But swooping down from the clouds

comes the most terrible spectre of all.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the Verdi Club presents

the Ride of the Valkyries!

(thunder/applause)

Oh! Oh, my God!

(applause continues)

(music ends)

(audience) Bravo!

It is my pleasure to present you

with this small token of our esteem.

Oh! Thank you. Shall I open it?

(audience) Yes!

Well, this is beautiful.

Thank you. Thank you all so very much.

You know, years ago

when I founded the Verdi Club,

I never could have imagined

that I would be here tonight,

25 years on,

with my beloved husband by my side.

Music...

Music has been, and is, my life.

Music matters. Thank you.

(applause)

Bravo!

And at this dark moment in our history,

with our brave boys

fighting for civilisation itself,

it matters more than ever.

So I implore you to continue to support

the musical life of this city.

- Good evening, Madam Florence.

- Hello, Kitty.

- How did it go?

- Very, very well, thank you.

And now, my bunny, you must sleep.

I don't want this day to end.

I know, I know.

Shut your eyes.

Only if you recite for me.

Very well.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments.

Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no.

Thank you, Kitty.

- Goodnight, Mr Bayfield.

- Goodnight.

A taxi if I may. Thank you.

- Thank you very much.

- Goodnight, sir.

Welcome home, darling.

- I'm a tad drunk.

- Oh. Lucky you.

- How was Florence?

- Magnificent.

And you?

I would say

I gave an adequate performance.

I wish I could have come.

- How was Augustus's play?

- Oh, terrible.

Finish it. I'm teaching first thing.

The oculist with bad breath and two left

hands, both of which tend to wander.

- I love you, St Clair.

- Hmm. With knobs on.

Good morning, Miss Rabbit.

Have you seen the reviews, Whitey?

Carlton Smith in the Musical Courier

says it was the event of the season.

Well, it jolly well was. Now...

No. Put it on the table. I'm getting up.

Bunny, that's not a good idea.

Last night...

On the table. Please.

We have to plan the Verdi lunch.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.

You can't put Mrs James O'Flaherty

next to the baroness.

She slurps her soup.

Then let's serve smoked trout,

because I doubt that even Mrs O'Flaherty

could slurp a trout.

The Verdi luncheon always begins

with a soup. You know that.

How could we not begin with a soup?

There would be a riot.

In that case, let us put her

over here on the card table

between Mr and Mrs Levi.

- Perfect.

- No.

Mrs O'Flaherty

isn't keen on the... Jews.

We'll put her between Prince Galitzer

and Mrs Oscar Garmunder.

- (Bayfield) No.

- Yes. They're both deaf as posts.

- No!

- Yes!

Maestro Toscanini is here.

Oh.

Charlie, cup of coffee?

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