Fallen Angels Scene - JANE

AA2

START OF SCENE

Julia, I’ve done something awful.

Julia: I’m not at all surprised.

I haven’t been where you thought — I came back here to find you and found Fred — Saunders said that she’d seen you go out a man, and I found that on the telephone block.

Julia: Jane, I think it’s only fair for you to know that I have had Willy everything.

And I’ve told Fred a good deal, too.

FRED: I want to get this cleared up, please. Willy, what has Julia told you?
WILLY: About Jane and a snivelling Frenchman in Venice.

(to Julia) Hypocrite!

WILLY: What’s Jane told you?
FRED: About Julia and a Frenchman in Pisa.
JULIA: Well, I’ll never, never speak to you again all my life.

It’s not true — we made it up — it’s all a joke.

FRED: She’s lying. Julia, tell me the truth.
JULIA: Yes, I certainly will — it’s all a fuss about nothing. Jane and I have been perfectly faithful to you — always.

WILLY: Before marriage?

Well, we couldn’t be faithful to you before we met you, could we?

FRED: Is this Frenchman story true?
JULIA: Jane — Jane — forgive me for everything. We’ve got to stand together now; they’re both going to be perfectly beastly.

All right. Willy, listen to me, I—

JULIA: Fred, you must listen—

MAURICE: (Enters) Julia! Jane.

Julia! Ha, ha!

JULIA: Oh, this is agony! Sheer agony—

Willy, may I present Monsieur Duclos — my husband.

JULIA: Maurice—this is my husband. 

MAURICE: How do you do? I had no idea—I haven’t seen Julia for so long— 

WILLY: When did you last see Jane? 

MAURICE: I beg your pardon?

Shut up, Willy. Do you think we’ve changed?

MAURICE: Oh, not at all. (to WILLY) I met your wife abroad, years ago. It is so strange renewing friendships. 

WILLY: Damned strange.  

MAURICE: (to FRED) My first day in London—and look at it—it’s too bad. 

FRED: I should like to have a little chat with you some time, Monsieur Duclos—there are several things I want explained. 

WILLY: Look here, I can’t stand this any longer! (to MAURICE) Look here, you’ve arrived at a very opportune moment. We’ve just discovered— 

JULIA: Maurice, let me explain. Our husbands have found out that you and Jane and I were very intimate friends in Italy seven years ago. I must apologize for their surly behavior, but they’re naturally rather upset. 

MAURICE: It has succeeded beyond your wildest dreams, hasn’t it? 

WILLY: What do you mean? 

MAURICE: It was cruel of you to ask me here this morning—without warning me—it was cruel of you. It would serve you right if I gave you away. 

FRED: You needn’t trouble, they’ve already done that for themselves. 

MAURICE: Please, please, let me tell them the truth now—it places me in such an embarrassing position. 

JULIA: Yes, Maurice—please, please—tell them the truth.

I’m going mad!

JULIA: Be quiet, Jane. 

WILLY: I’m afraid we already know the truth; there’s nothing much more to be said. 

MAURICE: Do you love your wife, monsieur? 

WILLY: Mind your own business. 

FRED: What do you mean? What are you getting at? 

MAURICE: I have your permission to speak? Well, I’m afraid it has all been rather what you would call a “put-up job.” 

WILLY: Put-up job? 

MAURICE: Yes, you see I have known Jane and Julia for a very long while—we are great friends—they confide in me. 

FRED: The hell they do! 

MAURICE: It would make it much easier, monsieur, if you were not so angry. I give you my word there is nothing to worry about. Had not the suspicion ever crossed your minds that here in England the husbands take their wives a little too much for granted sometimes? 

FRED: What are you trying to say? 

MAURICE: Perhaps Jane and Julia require a little more attention than you are prepared to give? 

WILLY: Rubbish!

It isn’t rubbish, is it, Julia?

JULIA: Certainly not. 

MAURICE: You’ve been married for how long now? Five years, is it not? 

FRED: What I want to know is whether this revolting story’s true. Is it or isn’t it? 

MAURICE: But of course it isn’t. We made a plan, Julia, Jane, and myself—well, you see, five years brings one to rather a critical matrimonial period as a rule. The first romance is over—everything seems slightly "gauche." Our plan was to rouse you up to a sense of your responsibilities—don't you see? 

FRED: That was extremely kind of you. 

JULIA: Don't go on being cross, Fred, it's all such ridiculous nonsense. 

WILLY: I don't understand at all. 

JULIA: We've muddled it so fearfully—or at least you did by coming home unexpectedly—it's taken all the wind out of our sails. Jane was going to break it to Fred that I'd run off with Maurice, and I was going to break it to Willy that she'd run off with Maurice—as it was you appeared much too early, before we were properly rehearsed. It's such supreme nonsense—please forgive us. 

FRED: Was this what you were hinting at yesterday morning when you said that you had a presentiment and that I didn't love you any more? 

Yes, don’t you see? She was paving the way, that’s what she was doing.

JULIA: Shh, Jane!

I shan’t shh — it’s all so stupid, and we were right, it’s cleared the air — they were much too sure of us — much, much, much, much, much too—

JULIA: Will you have a drink, Maurice? Fred is still too flurried to be hospitable. 

FRED. I'm sorry—it never struck me! Whiskey and soda? 

MAURICE: No, thank you—I really only came down for a minute. I have the flat exactly above this one for a year. 

Oh dear! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

JULIA: Pull yourself together, Jane. 

MAURICE: Perhaps you'd all come up—it's a bit untidy at present—but you won't mind? They're sending for the patterns back at twelve o'clock. 

JULIA: We'll come up now. 

FRED: Look here, Julia, I— 

JULIA: Would you rather I didn't, Fred? 

FRED. No, no—well, perhaps it's all right. Look, I must apologize to you for being so boorish. It was all very puzzling. 

JULIA: Come on, Jane. 

MAURICE: Will you all lunch with me today, it is so dull being alone. 

WILLY: Thanks, but I think I— 

FRED: Yes, it's very nice of you—we'd be delighted. 

WILLY: Look here, I— 

FRED: Shut up, Willy. 

JULIA: You are a darling, Fred. Come along, Maurice; we won't be more than ten minutes. 

Willy, don’t be cross.

WILLY: But I don’t quit see why —

Don’t try to see anymore—

WILLY: But—

No more buts—!

WILLY: But why are you in an evening dress?

Yes! Well, it was all part of the plan, dear — you were to discover me dead drunk in the downstairs hall — we were going to rehearse this morning —

FRED: You know, it's damned funny—it really is—the way we arrived and spoiled their little game. I don’t think he’s at all a bad chap that Frenchman. 

WILLY: I wouldn’t trust him an inch. You seem to have completely wiped it from your mind—the whole thing. Don’t be an abject fool Fred. He was bluffing us —the whole damned thing is true from beginning to end, I’m sure of it.  

FRED: Are you serious? 

WILLY: Yes, I am. Do you realize that we’ve let them both go up to his flat — alone?  

FRED: Willy — I— 

END OF SCENE