Charles' Lines (from Blithe Spirit) - UNFINISHED

for memorization purposes!

(Charles comes in SR and moves to the back of the sofa. He is wearing a loose-fitting velvet smoking jacket.)

CHARLES. No sign of the advancing hordes?

RUTH. Not yet.

CHARLES. (Moving to the drinks table.) A dry martini, I think, don’t you?

RUTH. Yes, darling. I expect Mr. Arcati will want something sweeter.

CHARLES. We’ll have this one for ourselves, anyhow.

RUTH. I have a feeling that this evening’s going to be awful.

CHARLES. It’ll probably be funny, but not awful.

RUTH. You must promise not to catch my eye. If I giggle — and I’m very likely to — it will ruin everything.

CHARLES. You mustn’t. You must be dead serious and if possible a little intense. We can’t hurt the old man’s feelings, however funny he is.

(CHARLES gives her a cocktail.)

Here, try this.

RUTH. (Sipping it.) Lovely — dry as a bone.

CHARLES. (Raising his glass to her.) To The Unseen!

RUTH. I must say that’s a wonderful title for a mystery novel.

CHARLES. If this evening’s a success, I shall start writing the first draft tomorrow.

RUTH. Used Elvira to be a help to you — when you were thinking something out, I mean?

CHARLES. Every now and then — when she concentrated — but she didn’t concentrate very often.

RUTH. I do wish I’d known her.

CHARLES. Poor Elvira.

RUTH. Does it still hurt? When you think of her?

CHARLES. (Sitting on the left end of the sofa.) I remember her very distinctly indeed. I remember how fascinating she was, and how maddening.

CHARLES. (Sitting on the left end of the sofa.) I remember her very distinctly indeed. I remember how fascinating she was, and how maddening.

CHARLES. I remember how badly she played all games and how cross she got when she didn’t win.

CHARLES. I remember how badly she played all games and how cross she got when she didn’t win.

CHARLES. I remember her physical attractiveness, which was tremendous, and her spiritual integrity, which was nil.

RUTH. You can’t remember something that was nil.

CHARLES. I remember how morally untidy she was.

RUTH. Was she more physically attractive than I am?

CHARLES. That was a very tiresome question, dear, and fully deserves the wrong answer.

RUTH. You really are very sweet.

CHARLES. (Smiling.) I love you, my love.

RUTH. I know you do; but not the wildest stretch of imagination could describe it as the first fine careless rapture.

CHARLES. Would you like it to be?

RUTH. We both have been married before. Careless rapture at this stage would be incongruous and embarrassing.

CHARLES. I hope I haven’t been in any way a disappointment, dear.

RUTH. There are moments, Charles, when you go too far.

CHARLES. That’s exactly what Elvira used to say.

RUTH. Poor Elvira!

CHARLES. I was devoted to Elvira. We were married for five years. She died. That was seven years ago.

CHARLES. I was devoted to Elvira. We were married for five years. She died. That was seven years ago.

CHARLES. I have now — with your help, my love — risen above the whole thing.

CHARLES. I have now — with your help, my love — risen above the whole thing.

CHARLES. Of course, I still miss her very much. She had a certain ethereal, not-quite-of-this-world quality.

RUTH. Nonsense! She was of the earth, earthy.

CHARLES. Well, she is now, anyhow.

RUTH. You know that’s the kind of observation that shocks people.

CHARLES. It’s discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit.

RUTH. Write that down; you might forget it.

(A bell is heard.)

CHARLES. That’s probably the Bradmans.

RUTH. It might be Mr. Arcati.

CHARLES. No, he’ll come on his bicycle. He always goes everywhere on his bicycle.

DR. BRADMAN. We’re not late, are we? I only got back from the hospital about half an hour ago.

CHARLES. Of course not. Mr. Arcati isn’t here yet.

MRS. BRADMAN. There wasn’t any need. I’m absolutely thrilled. I’ve only seen Mr. Arcati two or three times in the village. I mean I’ve never seen him do anything at all peculiar, if you know what I mean?

CHARLES. Dry martini?

DR. BRADMAN. By all means.

(CHARLES goes up to the drinks table and starts mixing fresh cocktails…)

CHARLES. (Mixing.) He certainly is a strange man. It was only by chance of seeing him up on the Knoll on Midsummer Eve dressed in sort of East Indian robes that made me realize he was psychic at all.

MRS. BRADMAN. Is the whole business a fake?

CHARLES. I suspect a professional charlatan. That’s what I am hoping for, anyhow. The character I am planning for my book must be a complete impostor. That’s one of the most important factors of the whole story.

DR. BRADMAN. What exactly are you hoping to get from her?

CHARLES. Jargon, principally; a few of the tricks of the trade.

MRS. BRADMAN. Do you think he tells fortunes? I love having my fortune told.

CHARLES. We really must all be serious, you know, and pretend that we believe implicitly. Otherwise he won’t play.

RUTH. Here he is.

CHARLES. You go and meet him, darling.

DR. BRADMAN. He knows, doesn’t he, about tonight?

CHARLES. Of course. It was all arranged last week. I met him at the tea shoppe — old man doesn’t have a phone — and I told him how profoundly interested I was in anything to do with the occult, and he blossomed like a rose.

MRS. BRADMAN. I really feel quite nervous; as though I were going to make a speech.

(MR. ARCATI enters with RUTH.)

CHARLES. My dear Mr. Arcati!

MR. ARCATI. And then, of course, I didn’t have a puncture at all.

CHARLES. Perhaps you will on the way home.

MR. ARCATI. We are old friends — we meet coming out of shops.

CHARLES. Would you like a cocktail?

MR. ARCATI. (Peeling off some rather strange looking gloves.) If it’s a dry martini, yes — if it’s a concoction, no. Experience has taught me to be very wary of concoctions.

CHARLES. (Up to the drinks table.) It is a dry martini.

MR. ARCATI. (Patiently.) Time values on the Other Side are utterly different from ours.

CHARLES. (Cheerfully.) Well, Mr. Arcati — the time on this side is drawing near.

MR. ARCATI. Who knows? It may be receding!

CHARLES. How very true.

MR. ARCATI. It isn’t a question of mood. It’s a question of concentration. I’m absolutely ready.

(He rises.)

Heigho, heigho, it’s off to work we go!

CHARLES. Is there anything you’d like us to do?

MR. ARCATI. Do?

CHARLES. Yes — hold hands or anything?

RUTH. Come, Mrs. Bradman —

CHARLES. What about the lights?

MR. ARCATI. I see.

(He stoops down and produces a pile of dance records.)

CHARLES. I’m afraid they’re none of them very new.

MR. ARCATI. Ah, here’s a lovely one — Irving Berlin. ‘Always.’

CHARLES. (Half jumping up.) ‘Always’!

RUTH. Do sit down, Charles. What is the matter?

CHARLES. (Subsiding.) Nothing — nothing at all.

MR. ARCATI. …Whilst doing so, I must ask you not to address me or move or do anything in the least distracting. Is that quite, quite clear?

CHARLES. Perfectly.

MR. ARCATI. Good work! — I will now start the music.

CHARLES. (In a strained voice.) Not ‘Always.’ Don’t play ‘Always’ —

MR. ARCATI. There’s someone who wishes to speak to you, Mr. Condomine.

CHARLES. Tell them to leave a message.

RUTH. Charles, how can you be so idiotic? You’ll spoil everything.

CHARLES. I’m sorry; it slipped out.

MR. ARCATI. — however, que sera, sera. Excuse me a moment while I start the gramophone again.

CHARLES. Oh, God — not ‘Always’ again.

(MR. ARCATI gives a loud scream and falls off the stool on the floor.)

Good God!

ELVIRA. (From offstage, a perfectly strange and very charming voice.) Leave it where it is.

CHARLES. Who said that?

RUTH. Who said what?

CHARLES. Somebody said, ‘Leave it where it is.’ You’re playing tricks.

ELVIRA. Good evening, Charles.

CHARLES. You must have heard that. One of you must have heard that!

RUTH. It’s you who are playing the tricks, Charles. You’re acting to try to frighten us.

CHARLES. (Breathlessly.) I’m not. I swear I’m not.

ELVIRA. (Ethereal voice.) It’s difficult to think of what to say after seven years, but I suppose good evening is as good as anything else.

CHARLES. (Intensely.) Who are you?

ELVIRA. (As before.) Elvira, of course — don’t be so silly.

CHARLES. I can’t bear this for another minute.

(He rises violently.)

Get up, everybody — the entertainment’s over.

(Switches on the lights. MR. ARCATI is on the floor.)

Never again — that’s all I can say. Never, never again as long as I live!

RUTH. What are we to do with her?

CHARLES. Bring him round — bring her round as soon as possible. (Shaking him violently.) Wake up, Mr. Arcati! Wake up! It’s time to go home!

RUTH. Really, Charles, you are behaving most peculiarly.

CHARLES. (Leaning over her.) Wake up, Mr. Arcati!

RUTH. I suddenly felt a draught — there must be a window open.

CHARLES. Well, the old man’s gone pedalling off down the drive at the hell of a speed.

RUTH. Darling, do you feel quite well?

CHARLES. Perfectly. I think I’ll have a drink. Do you want one?

RUTH. No, thank you, dear.

CHARLES. (Pouring out a whisky and soda.) I don’t think I’ll make any notes tonight. I’ll start fresh in the morning.

— My God!

ELVIRA. That was very clumsy, Charles dear.

CHARLES. Elvira! — then it’s true — it was you!

RUTH. Charles — darling Charles — what are you talking about?

CHARLES. (to Elvira:) Are you a ghost?

RUTH. Charles — what do you keep looking over there for? Look at me. What’s happened?

CHARLES. Don’t you see?

RUTH. See what?

CHARLES. Elvira.

RUTH. (Staring at him incredulously.) Elvira!!

CHARLES. (With an effort at social grace.) Yes. Elvira dear, this is Ruth. Ruth, this is Elvira.

RUTH. (With forced calmness.) Come and sit down, darling.

CHARLES. Do you mean to say you can’t see her?

RUTH. If this is a joke, dear, it’s gone quite far enough. Sit down, for God’s sake, and don’t be idiotic.

CHARLES. (Clutching his head.) What am I to do! What the hell am I to do!

ELVIRA. I think you might at least be a little more pleased to see me. After all, you conjured me up.

CHARLES. I didn’t do any such thing.

ELVIRA. Nonsense; of course you did. You played our favorite song.

CHARLES. It was all a mistake, a horrible mistake.

RUTH. Relax.

CHARLES. How can I relax? I shall never be able to relax again as long as I live.

ELVIRA. Very unwise. You always had a weak head for liquor.

CHARLES. I could drink you under the table.

RUTH. There’s no need to be aggressive, Charles. I’m doing my best to help you.

CHARLES. I’m sorry.

ELVIRA. Get rid of her, Charles; then we can talk in peace.

CHARLES. That’s a thoroughly immoral suggestion. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

RUTH. What is there immoral in that?

CHARLES. I wasn’t talking to you.

RUTH. Who were you talking to, then?

CHARLES. Elvira, of course.

RUTH. Now, look here, Charles. I gather you’ve got some sort of plan behind all this. I’m not quite a fool.

CHARLES. Elvira is here, Ruth — she’s standing a few yards away from you.

RUTH. (Sarcastically.) Yes, dear, I can see her distinctly — under the piano with a zebra.

CHARLES. But Ruth —

ELVIRA. Hurray!

CHARLES. Shut up!