Martha - Arsenic & Old Lace Act 1

Brophy: It’s just their way of digging up people to do some good to.

Well, now, isn’t this nice?

Brophy: Good afternoon, Miss Brewster.

How do you do, Officer Brophy? Dr. Harper. Officer Klein.

Klein: How are you, Miss Brewster? We dropped in to get the Christmas toys.

Oh, yes, Teddy’s Army and Navy. They’re all packed.

Brophy: The Colonel’s upstairs after them— it seems the Cabinet has to okay it.

Yes, of course. I hope Mrs. Brophy’s better.

Brophy: She’s doin’ fine, ma’am. Your sister’s getting some soup for me to take to her.

Oh, yes, we made it this morning. I just took some to a poor man who broke ever so many bones.

Abby: Oh, you’re back, Martha. How was Mr. Benitzky?

Well, dear, it’s pretty serious, I’m afraid. The doctor was there. He’s going to amputate in the morning.

Abby: Can we be present?

No. I asked him, but he says it’s against the rules of the hospital.

Teddy: That’s General Miles. I’ve retired him. What’s this! The Oregon!

Teddy, dear, put it back.

Teddy: No, I’ve given my word to Fighting Bob Evans.

But, Teddy—

Harper: The blockhouse?

The stairs are always San Juan Hill.

Abby: Oh, no!

He’s so happy being Teddy Roosevelt.

Abby: Once, a long time ago— remember, Martha? We thought is he would be George Washington it might be a change for him—

But he stayed under his bed for days and just wouldn’t be anybody.

Harper: Well, if he’s happy— and what’s more important you’re happy— you’ll see that he signs these.

What are they?

Abby: Dr. Harper has made all arrangements for Teddy to go to Happy Dale Sanitarium after we pass on.

But why should Teddy sign any papers now?

Harper: It’s better to have it all settled. If the Lord should take you away suddenly perhaps we couldn’t persuade Teddy to commit himself and that would mean an unpleasant legal procedure. Mr. Witherspoon understands they’re to be filed away until the time comes to use them.

Mr. Witherspoon? Who’s he?

Abby: Give our love to Elaine— and Dr. Harper, please don’t think harshly of Mortimer because he’s a dramatic critic. Somebody has to do those things.

Did you just have tea? Isn’t it rather late?

Abby: Yes— and dinner’s going to be late too.

Why?

Teddy: Dee-lighted! That’s bully! Just bully! I shall prepare at once for the journey. CHARGE!

Abby! While I was out?

Abby: Yes, dear! I just couldn’t wait for you. I didn’t know when you’d be back and Dr. Harper was coming.

But all by yourself?

Abby: Oh, I got along fine!

I’ll run right downstairs and see.

Abby: Oh, no, there wasn’t time, and I was all alone.

Well—

Elaine: Good afternoon, Miss Abby. Good afternoon, Miss Martha. I thought Father was here.

He just left. Didn’t you meet him?

Elaine: Oh? He asked me to meet him here. Do you mind if I wait?

Not at all.

Abby: Why don’t you sit down, dear?

But we really must speak to Mortimer about doing this to you.

Elaine: Doing what?

Well, he was brought up to know better. When a gentleman is taking a young lady out he should call for her at her house.

Elaine: Oh, please don’t. After young men whose idea of night life was to take me to prayer meeting, it’s wonderful to go to the theatre almost every night of my life.

It’s comforting for us too, because if Mortimer has to see some of those plays he has to see— at least he’s sitting next to a minister’s daughter.

Abby: My goodness, Elaine, what must you think of us—not having tea cleared away by this time.

Now, don’t bother with anything in the kitchen until Mortimer comes, and then I’ll help you. Mortimer should be here any minute.

Elaine: Yes, Father must have been surprised not to find me at home. I’d better run over and say good night to him.

It’s a shame you missed him, dear.

Mortimer: Hello, Elaine. Hello, Aunt Martha.

Abby, Mortimer’s here!

Abby: Oh, my goodness, it was yesterday, wasn’t it? We’re seeing a great deal of you lately. Well, come, sit down. Sit down

Abby— haven’t we something to do in the kitchen?

Abby: Huh?

You know— the tea things.

Abby: Oh, yes! Yes! The tea things— Well— you two just make yourselves at home. Just—

— make yourselves at home.

Abby: What? Oh, darling! Martha, Martha! Come right in here. I’ve got the most wonderful news for you— Mortimer and Elaine are going to be married.

Married? Oh, Mortimer!

Abby: We hoped it would happen just like this.

Well, Elaine must be the happiest girl in the world.

Mortimer: Happy! Just look at her leaping over those gravestones. By the way, I left a large envelope around here last week. It was one of the chapters of my book on Thoreau. Have you seen it?

Well, if you left it here it must be here somewhere.

Mortimer: Elaine? Oh, yes, Elaine thought it was brilliant.

What was, dear?

Abby: Well, when Elaine comes back I think we ought to have a little celebration. We must drink to your happiness. Martha, isn’t there some of the Lady Baltimore cake left?

Oh, yes!

Abby: And I’ll open a bottle of wine.

Oh, and to think it happened in this room!

Mortimer: He’s got to sign them this minute! He’s down in the cellar— get him up here right away.

There’s no such hurry as that.

Mortimer: Teddy’s got to go to Happy Dale now— tonight.

Oh, no, dear, that’s not until after we’re gone.

Mortimer: Listen, darlings, I’m frightfully sorry, but I’ve got some shocking news for you. Now we’ve all got to try and keep our heads. You know we’ve sort of humored Teddy because we thought he was harmless.

Why he is harmless!

Mortimer: You’ve got to know sometime. It might as well be now, Teddy’s— killed a man!

Nonsense, dear.

Mortimer: You know?

Of course, dear, but it has nothing to do with Teddy.

Mortimer: That’s all you know about him? Well, what’s he doing here? What happened to him?

He died, dear.

Mortimer: How did the poison get in the wine?

Well, we put it in the wine because it’s less noticeable— when it’s in tea it has a distinct odor.

Abby: Well, not at tea— that wouldn’t have been very nice. Now, Mortimer, you know the whole thing just forget about it. I do think Martha and I have the right to our own little secrets.

And don’t you tell Elaine! Oh, Abby, while I was out I dropped in on Mrs. Schultz. She’s much better but she would like to take Junior to the movies again.

Abby: Well, we must do that tomorrow or the next day.

Yes, but this time we’ll go where we want to go. Junior’s not going to drag me into another one of those scary pictures.

Mortimer: What are we going to do? What are we going to do?

What are we going to do about what, dear?

Mortimer: Well, good heavens, I can’t turn you over to the police! But what am I going to do?

Well, for one thing, dear, stop being so excited.

Mortimer: Well, whatever his name is, you can’t leave him there.

We don’t intend to, dear.

Mortimer: You mean you’re going to bury Mr. Hotchkiss in the cellar?

Oh, yes, dear— that’s what we did with the others.

Mortimer: When you say others— do you mean— others? More than one others?

Oh, yes dear. Let me see, this is eleven. Isn’t it Abby?

Abby: No, dear, this makes twelve.

Oh, I think you’re wrong, Abby. This is only eleven.

Abby: No, dear, because I remember when Mr. Hoskins first came in, it occurred to me that he would make just an even dozen.

Well, you really shouldn’t count the first one.

Mortimer: Now let’s see, where were we? TWELVE!

Yes, Abby thinks we ought to count the first one and that makes twelve.

Abby: Mr. Midgley. He was a Baptist

Of course, I still think we can’t claim full credit for him because he just died.

Abby: Martha means without any help from us. You see, Mr. Midgely came here looking for a room—

It was right after you moved to New York.

Abby: — And it didn’t seem right for that lovely room to be going to waste when there were so many people who needed it—

— He was such a lonely old man …

Abby: All his kith and kin were dead and it left him so forlorn and unhappy —

—We felt so sorry for him

Mortimer: He dropped dead right in that chair! How awful for you!

Oh, no, dear. Why it was rather like old times. Your grandfather always used to have a cadaver or two around the house. You see, Teddy had been digging in Panama and he thought Mr. Midgely was a Yellow Fever victim.

Abby: That meant he had to be buried immediately

So we all took him down to Panama and put him in the lock. Now that’s why we told you not to worry about it because we know exactly what’s to be done.

Abby: Of course, we realized we couldn’t depend on that happening again. So—

You remember those jars of poison that have been up on the shelves in Grandfather’s laboratory all these years—?

Abby: You know your Aunt Martha’s knack for mixing things. You’ve eaten enough of her piccalilli.

Well, dear, for a gallon of elderberry wine I take one teaspoonful of arsenic, then add half a teaspoonful of strychnine and then just a pinch of cyanide.

Abby: Yes! As a matter of fact one of our gentlemen found time to say “How delicious!”

Well, I’ll have to get things started in the kitchen.

Abby: I wish you could stay for dinner.

I’m trying out a new recipe.

Gibbs: May I see the room?

Why don’t you sit down a minute and let’s get acquainted.

Mortimer: Hello. City desk.

Are your family Brooklyn people?

Mortimer: Hello, Al? Mort. We got cut off. Al, I can’t cover the play tonight— that’s all there is to it, I can’t!

What church do you go to? There’s an Episcopal church practically next door.

Gibbs: Is there always this much noise?

Oh, he doesn’t live with us.

Gibbs: Never touch it.

We make this ourselves. It’s elderberry wine.

Gibbs: Do you have your own elderberry bushes?

No, but the cemetery is full of them

Abby: We might, but first just see whether you like our wine.

Mortimer! Eh eh eh eh! Eh eh eh eh!

Mortimer: You can’t do things like that. I don’t know how to explain this to you, but it’s not only against the law. It’s wrong! People wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t understand.

Abby, we shouldn’t have told Mortimer!

Mortimer: Look, I’ve got to go to the theatre. I can’t get out of it. But before I go will you promise me something?

We’d have to know what it was first.

Mortimer: Don’t do anything. I mean don’t do anything. Don’t let anyone in this house— and leave Mr. Hoskins right where he is.

Why?

Mortimer: Anyway— you’ll do this for me, won’t you?

Well— we were planning on holding services before dinner.

Mortimer: Services!

Certainly. You don’t think we’d bury Mr. Hoskins without a full Methodist service, do you? Why he was a Methodist.

Mortimer: And remember, you’re not going to let anyone in this house while I’m gone— it’s a promise!

Well—

Mortimer: That’ll be fine. I can save time if I write my review on the way to the theatre.

Mortimer didn’t seem quite himself today.

Abby: Well, that’s only natural— I think I know why.

Why?

Abby: He’s just become engaged to be married. I supposed that always makes a man nervous.

Well, I’m so happy for Elaine— and their honeymoon ought to give Mortimer a real vacation. I don’t think he got much rest this summer.

Abby: Well, at least he didn’t go kiting off to China or Spain.

I could never understand why he wanted to go to those places.

Abby: Well, I think to Mortimer the theater has always seemed pretty small potatoes. He needs something big to criticize— something like the human race.

Oh, Abby, if Mortimer’s coming back for the services for Mr. Hoskins, we’ll need another hymnal. There’s one in my room.

Abby: You know, dear, it’s really my turn to read the services, but since you weren’t here when Mr. Hoskins came I want you to do it.

That’s very nice of dear— but, are you sure you want me to?

Abby: It’s only fair.

Well, I think I’ll wear my black bombazine and Mother’s old brooch.

Abby: I’ll go, dear.

We promised Mortimer we wouldn’t let anyone in.

Abby: Who do you suppose it is?

Wait a minute, I’ll look. It’s two men— and I’ve never seen them before.

Abby: Are you sure?

There’s a car at the curb— they must have come in that.

Abby: Let me look!

Do you recognize them?

Abby: They’re strangers to me.

We’ll just have to pretend we’re not at home.

Jonathan: Why, Aunt Abby! Aunt Martha! It’s Jonathan.

You get out of here.

Jonathan: I see that you’re still wearing the lovely garnet ring that Grandma Brewster bought in England. And you, Aunt Martha, still the high collar— to hide the scar where Grandfather’s acid burned you.

His voice is like Jonathan’s.

Jonathan: No— my face— Dr. Einstein is responsible for that. He’s a plastic surgeon. He changes people’s faces.

But I’ve seen that face before. Abby, remember when we took the little Schultz boy to the movies and I was so frightened? It was that face!

Abby: Well— Jonathan— it’s been a long time— what have been doing all these years?

Yes, Jonathan, where have you been?

Abby: Oh, we were just in Chicago for the World’s Fair.

Yes— we found Chicago awfully warm.

Abby: We’re very fond of Mortimer.

Well, Jonathan, it’s very nice to have seen you again.

Well, Martha, we mustn’t let what’s on the stove boil over.

Yes. If you’ll excuse us for a minute, Jonathan. Unless you’re in a hurry to go somewhere.

Jonathan: But my great disappointment is for Dr. Einstein. I promised him that no matter how rushed we were in passing through Brooklyn, I’d take the time to bring him here for one of Aunt Martha’s home-cooked dinners.

Oh…

Abby: I’m sorry. I’m afraid there won’t be enough.

Abby, it’s a pretty good sized pot roast.

Jonathan: Pot roast!

I think the least we can do is to—