Salome's Last Dance

Evening, gentlemen.

but how are we this evening?

As close as two testicles, Chilvers.

People are beginning to talk.

There is only one thing worse

than to be talked about..

and that is not to be talked about!

I wish I had said that.

- You will, Bosie.. you will.

If you would like to go up, Sir,

Mr. Taylor will be with you directly.

May I take the opportunity

to thank for you the ticket..

to "Lady Windermere's Fan",

Mr. Wilde. I enjoyed it immensely!

It's a regular triumph with the public, Sir.

Yes, the whole town is quite lit up. I'm

told that royalty is turned away nightly.

Isn't that line getting a little stale?

No line is ever stale that leads

directly to the box office, dear Bosie.

And where are you going?

Below stairs, obviously!

To polish up your repartee

with the little bootblack!

I rather taken a shine to him myself.

You'll see him shining

as bright as gold tonight.

But don't be tempted to worship the

golden calf or you'll suffer my wrath!

No sermons, please, Bosie!

I'm not in the mood for the

missionary position just now.

Ah, Oscar!

- Ah, my dear Alfred!

Congratulations! I've never

been more flattered!

The moon rising in a

jewelbox of deepest night..

could not be more exquisitely displayed!

But if you're going to redecorate every

time a new play of mine is published,

I fear you'll soon be destitute.

I'm feeling disgustingly creative!

Oh, dear! You are not going to write another

play to scandalize the Lord Chamberlain..

into banning it, my dear Oscar?

I don't think I could afford it!

What do you mean, hmm?

What are you up to?

I know you are the most benign brothel

keeper in the whole of Westminster,

but surely you're not going

to shut up shop, are you?

And send off all those boys and girls to warm

their pretty little bottoms around a bonfire, huh?

Where is everyone?

- Putting on their makeup.

That's nothing new, my dear!

Though if I may so..

I think you overdone the mascara,

just a little tonight.

Are you going to perform yourself?

You're getting warm!

They say that sex is

the theater of the poor..

You're not going to stage

"The Beggar's Opera", are you?

Umm.. stage? Yes we have built a stage.

You're getting hotter. - Uh, huh!

- You're almost there. Can't you guess?

I only play guessing games when I want

to be beastly to my darling children!

Oh, God! I promised them

a firework display tonight!

I say! This.. this isn't some elaborate

charade involving Guy Fawkes, is it?

Oh! Nothing so mundane!

The date isn't without significance:

Guy Fawkes wanted to strike

a spark for freedom,

and blow up the Parliament,

he considered.. oppressive.

You have done the same

with your play, "Salome".

The Lord Chamberlain acting

on behalf of Parliament has banned it,

so a few kindred spirits have

hatched a little plot of their own.

In defiance of the Law and in honor

of our greatest playwright,

the premiere of "Salome" will take place

here tonight, the 5th of November, 1892!

I'm touched, my dear Alfred.

Really I am!

But you must promise me.. one thing.

Of course, if I can!

- Promise me, you won't play Salome!

Much too energetic, my dear!

Here I am!

Evening, Mr. Wilde! Chilvers said

you was here, so here I am!

Why, thank you. - Rose!

How many times have I got tell you!

You should been ready

half an hour ago, look at you!

Give me Mr. Wilde

his cigars and get out!

Sorry, Sir! Beg pardon, Sir!

- Thank you, Rose.

Come on Alfred! She knows

I only come here for the.. cigars!

Don't be hard on her!

You may be hard on me when you discover

Salome is being played by.. a skivvy!

Salome?

Does she rehearse the Dance of the

Seven Veils with her dusters?

She looks terribly

undernourished, poor thing!

Will she have the strength to drop them?

She had better the little b*tch

or I will murder her!

Well, you can afford to these days

with servants to a penny..

How much have you spent

on the rest of the cast?

We're all doing it for love, Oscar!

Clients and courtesans alike!

Now, take your ease!

Imagine yourself on a moonlit terrace

in the palace of bad King Herod..

on a balmy summer's night, some 20 years

or so after the birth of Jesus Christ.

And what our production lacks in stagecraft,

we hope to make up for in enthusiasm.

And any shortcomings in design, I know will

be compensated for by your fertile imagination!

That sounds too much like hard work!

I came here to be entertained.

Entertain me!

As always, I shall do my best!

- Well, you never failed me yet!

What's that delicious fragrance?

What is it?

Sandalwood? Myrrh?

No! It's a blending of green carnations

and the pubic hair of virgins!

Of course! I should have guessed!

Let the play commence!

Bosie!

Well done, Kenneth!

As usual, you've captured the

perfect moment! The climatic one!

And hope to catch many more

before the night is out, Mr. Wilde!

While playing a part, I presume?

But did I really include a court

photographer in Herod's entourage?

Oh, no, we're playing a couple

of foreign guests..

but I've taken the liberty of

combining business with pleasure.

As one would expect in

a whorehouse, Kenneth!

And if you're acting is as grossly

indecent as you're photographic studies,

we're in for an outrageous evening!

Merde!

Merde to you too, Mr. Wilde!

How beautiful Salome looks tonight!

Look at the moon! How strange she looks.

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