Merrily We Go to Hell Page #3

You're swell.

You know,

Miss Claire Hempstead,

I've met a girl who's just the

opposite of your lovely, fleshly self,

the first girl that's attracted

me since you opened my veins

and carried away my blood

in a golden bowl.

I wish you'd keep your mind

active instead of your feet.

Well, I'm a son of a gun.

He's come back

from the dead! Jerry!

How are you?

Hello, Buck.

Sulfur and brimstone.

VI:
Hello, Jerry.

Say, Jerry, where you

been keeping yourself?

Yeah, that's right. The police

haven't been able to find me

in my usual haunts

lately, have they?

Why so low, Jerry?

Because, my dear,

I'm going to be married.

What?

Married!

Keep it under your hat.

Hey, Bill.

Well, you're not exactly my

idea of a happy bridegroom.

Well, that's where you're

wrong, Vi. I am happy.

What troubles me is,

have I a right to take a swell

girl and make her my wife?

No.

Your charm is only

exceeded by your frankness.

I think we ought

to celebrate.

So do I.

So do I, Buck.

Let us have champagne,

or at the very least, beer.

Let us have song.

One, two, three...

All we need's a baritone

and we'd have a quartet.

Let's find a baritone. Is

there a baritone in the house?

Is there

a baritone in the house?

He's not sure he's in

love with that girl, Buck.

He's likely to do to her just

what my husband did to me.

Is there

a baritone in the house?

You're not so bad,

Vi, but it's a fact.

This town is full of wives

who closed their eyes, jumped,

and now are

screaming for help.

On the level, Fred,

I'm gonna be married.

Keep it under your hat.

So that's the reason

you haven't been around.

Yeah. But at the moment

we're looking for a baritone.

I don't allow them

in the place.

You don't?

Is there

a baritone in the house?

Are you a baritone?

I'm very sorry.

No baritone.

Are you a baritone?

No, I'm not.

I'm a tenor.

A tenor. You're a tenor.

Are you a baritone?

Hello, Mr. Corbett.

Hello.

If you had your hat on,

I'd tell you

I'm going to be married.

Congratulations.

Who's the lucky girl?

Her name

is Joan Prentice.

Now, be a good girl,

run along and get your hat

and keep what

I told you under it.

All righty.

Is there

a baritone in the house?

No!

It's unbelievable.

There isn't

a baritone in the house.

Oh, yes, there is.

I'm a baritone.

There it is.

You search for happiness, and all

the time it's right behind the bar.

Sir, you're a baritone

and a gentleman.

He's no gentleman.

He's a baritone.

So let's go.

Wait a minute.

Oh, the moonlight's fair

tonight along the Wabash

From the fields there comes

the breath of new-mown hay

Of new-mown hay

Through the sycamores

the candle light is gleaming

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