Scaramouche Page #4

Yes.

- Moreau, l can't see you.

- You must be shortsighted. l'm here.

Be good enough to make out an advance

on my allowance for next year, say half.

Next year's allowance? lmpossible!

Figaro, you may leave us.

But there is no more money. None at all.

- Didn't you get my letter?

- l never read letters.

But l wrote and told you

the allowance has been stopped.

Stopped?

The gentleman is no longer able

to provide for your welfare.

Put that thing down and get out of here.

l shall go to this gentleman

and extract the allowance in person.

- What is his name?

- His name?

lmpossible.

You know l can't do that, Andre.

l know nothing at all!

For 30-odd years...

l have made a profession of ignorance with

particular reference to my real name...

my obscure beginnings,

and my mysterious birth.

lf you fidget, l may draw blood.

You're making me nervous. Where was l?

Yes, my birth.

Being adequately financed

by whoever was responsible...

for my arrival in what is termed

"the wrong side of the blanket"...

l was content

to be ignorant of my parentage.

But now l need money.

lt is at this moment

that my elusive papa concludes...

that his duty is done...

and that there should be

no more cakes and ale...

for his mischievous youth.

A lamentable conclusion in any event,

but at this moment, deplorably timed.

We must therefore face the fact...

that the hour has come

to tear down the veil...

and unmask this philandering gentleman.

Who is he, Fabian? Who is my father?

No! l won't tell.

You're making me nervous again.

l can't betray a client's confidence.

Look at my hand,

how it shakes and trembles with emotion.

What is his name, Fabian?

The name of my father. What is it?

Count de Gavrillac.

- The address?

- ln Normandy.

The manor of Gavrillac. Near Dieppe.

Here l am, Andre!

All in one piece? Where's the lady?

My bride-to-be, the light of my life.

- Come on, boy. Where's Lenore?

- l don't know. l mislaid her.

You mislaid her?

What is she, a button, a handkerchief that

can be dropped or sent to the laundry?

You dunderhead, where is she?

When we stopped at the city gates,

she was out and away...

before l could catch her.

Say, did she leave any message?

She just left.

l'm sorry, Andre. l let you down again.

The oceans are full of fish

and the heavens with stars.

To contemplate one woman

to the exclusion of others...

may be for some men, but not for me.

Come on, boy. To Gavrillac!

lt's coming, Andre, and no one can stop it.

The apple cart the tyrants are riding

will be overturned.

l tell you, it can't be much longer.

Longer?

l think it's already happened.

Happy the rascal traveling life's byway...

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes