The Dresser Page #2

Oh, yes, Madge'll know what to do.

She won't upset herself,

that's for certain.

No, Madge will be ever so sensible.

I suppose stage managers have to be.

I had a friend once,

had been a vicar before falling from

the pulpit and landing on the stage.

Ever so good as an ugly sister.

To the manner born.

His wife didn't upset easily.

Just as well, I suppose,

all things considered.

Madge reminds me of her.

Cold, businesslike, boring.

The doctor took me into a little

room littered with enamel dishes

full of blood-stained bandages.

The smell made me faint.

He asked me

about his behaviour in recent days.

Had I noticed anything untoward?

And what did you say?

If you don't mind my asking.

I lied.

I said he'd been perfectly normal.

I don't want to appear neglectful.

I should have been more vigilant.

Only last night I woke...

Is that Madge? No, it's Irene.

You were saying?

Last night you woke.

He was looking at me. He was naked.

It was bitter cold,

he was shivering.

He said, "Thank you for watching

over me but don't worry.

"Just go on looking after me.

"I have the feeling

I may do something violent. "

Talk about untoward.

I'm glad you didn't

tell the doctors that,

they'd have locked him up for good.

Last night, after Othello,

he asked me,

"What do we play tomorrow, Norman?"

I told him King Lear and he said,

"Then I shall wake with

the storm clouds over my head. "

I should have made him rest.

The doctor said he'd come to the end

of his rope and found it frayed.

So would anyone that had to

put up with

what he's had to put up with.

You should've told

the doctor about the troubles.

No. Civilians never understand.

I could kick myself for taking him

to the hospital.

It was the right thing to do.

I hope so. Doctors.

Can you imagine trying to explain to

a doctor what Sir's been through?

"Well, you see, doctor,

he's been trying to recruit actors

"for his Shakespeare company and

all the able-bodied and best ones

"are in uniform, and the theatres

are bombed

"as soon as you book them. "

Doctors.

He'd have had his hypodermic

rampant before you could say

As You Like It.

Madge is right.

There is no alternative.

We'll have to cancel.

Oh, no, oh, Your Ladyship, no,

cancellation's ever so drastic.

He's ill.

There's no crime in being ill,

it's not high treason,

it's not a capital offence, it's not

desertion in the face of the enemy.

He's not himself. He can't work.

Will the world stop turning?

Will the Nazis overrun England?

One Lear more or less in the world

won't make any difference.

Sir always believes it will.

Who really cares

whether he acts or not?

I never imagined it would

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