Screen Two

Marcel Proust:
I apologize for the lift. It dates from the period before lifts were invented.

Ritchie:
They'll send out an ABP.

John:
You mean an APB: "All Points Bulletin."

Ritchie:
No, ABP: "A Big Policeman."

Ritchie:
A wedding in Kirby. You're kidding, right? We'll need to take out extra insurance. There's always a fight and some knobhead going through your records.

[Nick, sitting in a cafe reading over an article of his, has a very noisy coughing fit]

Waitress:
Are you alright, love?

Nick Finchley:
All right? I'm f***ing brilliant!

Nick Finchley:
Would you really have hit me a moment ago?

Humphrey Taylor:
The moment hasn't passed.

[first lines]

Edward II:
My father is deceased. Come Gaveston, and share the kingdom with thy dearest friend.

Edward II:
I here create thee Lord High Chamberlain, Chief Secretary to the State and me, Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man.

Piers Gaveston:
My Lord, these titles far exceed my worth.

Edward II:
Thy worth sweet friend is far above my gifts. And therefore to equal it, receive my heart.

Mortimer:
Madam, how fares your grace?

Isabella:
Ah, Mortimer, now breaks the king's hate forth, and he confesseth that he loves me not.

Mortimer:
Cry quittance, madam, then, and love not him.

Bishop:
Why should you love him whom the world hates so?

Edward II:
Because he loves me more than all the world.

Mortimer:
Monster of men. Look for no other fortune, wretch, than death.

Piers Gaveston:
I thank you all my lords. Here I perceive that heading is one, and hanging is the other, and death is all.

[Gaveston is killed]

Mortimer:
Come, let thy shadow parley with King Edward.

Prince Edward:
Why should you love him whom the world hates so?

Mortimer:
This tattered ensign of my ancestors, which swept the desert shore of that dead sea whereof we got the name of Mortimer, I will advance and ring aloud the knell of Gaveston.

Mortimer:
Base Fortune, now I see that in thy wheel there is a point to which when men aspire; they tumble headlong down. That point I touch'd, and seeing there was no place to mount up higher why should I grieve at my declining fall?

Piers Gaveston:
Farewell, base stooping to the lordly peers: my knee shall bow to none but to the King. As for the multitude, that are but sparks raked up in embers of their poverty... f*** 'em.

Mrs. Fisher:
Really!

Lottie:
Really what?

Mrs. Fisher:
Well... really!

Caroline:
I want to just sit and not talk and not have to be the centre of attention all the time. You know what that's like don't you?

Rose:
No.

Lottie:
I was just thinking about cuckoo's for some reason. It's odd.

Mrs. Fisher:
Very odd.

Mrs. Fisher:
In my day husbands and beds were very seldom mentioned in the same breath. Husbands were taken seriously, as the only true obstacle to sin.

Lottie:
Did you know Keats?

Mrs. Fisher:
Keats! No I didn't, and I didn't know Shakespeare or Chaucer either.

Mrs. Fisher:
[to Lottie] I hope you're not in the habit of seeing dead people, however distinguished - it's not in the best of taste! I'm sure the last thing I would want to see is my late husband Mr. Fisher crossing the road in front of my house.

Mrs. Fisher:
That's a beautiful dress...

Caroline:
No I've had it a hundred years.

Mrs. Fisher:
...but you must be very cold in it. Its easy to catch a chill here after dark. You look as if you had nothing on underneath.

Caroline:
I haven't.

Mellersh Wilkins:
Lady Caroline, housekeeping for a party that includes my wife - you render me speechless! You do know she's the daughter of Lord Dester, THE Lord Dester?

Mrs. Fisher:
Ah! Well that accounts for it then. The botch-up her father made in his department during the war was a national scandal!

Mellersh Wilkins:
They never could actually prove anything.

Caroline:
I've wasted so much time being beautiful.

Caroline:
It's odd how ones mind slips sideways in a place like this.

Mrs. Fisher:
All my dead friends don't seem worth reading tonight. They always say the same things. Good things, but always the same.

Rose:
Caroline's right. The mind slips sideways. How could I invite him? What would we talk about? The truth is... I bore him, and there's no way back. No, if you bore somebody, it's almost impossible to un-bore him.

Mr. Shepherd:
Women without children are the very best preservers of furniture.

Anne Elliot:
You presume to know me very well, Mr Elliot.

Mr. Elliot:
In my heart I know you intimately.

Lady Russell:
He had no fortune, no connections. It was entirely prudent of you to reject him.

Sir Walter Elliot:
I strongly object to the Navy. It brings people of obscure birth into undue distinction and it cuts up a man's youth and vigor most horribly!

Captain Wentworth:
I come on business, Sir Walter.

Sir Walter Elliot:
Business?

Captain Wentworth:
Yes, my proposal of marriage to your daughter, Anne, has been accepted and I respectfully, sir, request permission to set a date.

Sir Walter Elliot:
Anne? You want to marry Anne? Whatever for?

Lady Russell:
Captain Wentworth

Captain Wentworth:
Lady Russell

Lady Russell:
You, have an extraordinary ability to discompose my friend, sir.

Captain Wentworth:
And you have an extraordinary ability to influence her, ma'am, for which I find it hard to forgive you.

Captain Wentworth:
I tried to forget you... I thought I had.

Mr Elliot:
Have you thought any more about my offer?

Anne:
What offer was that?

Mr Elliot:
My offer to flatter and adore you all the days of your life.

Anne:
I haven't had a moment, Mr Elliot, to turn my mind to it.

Anne Elliot:
We do not forget you, so soon as you forget us.

Captain Harvile:
Poor Phoebe, she would not have forgotten him so soon. It was not in her nature.

Anne Elliot:
It would not be in the nature of any woman who truly loved.

Captain Harvile:
Do you claim that for your sex?

Anne Elliot:
We do not forget you as soon as you forget us. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You always have business of some sort or other to take you back into the world.

Captain Harvile:
I won't allow it to be any more man's nature than women's to be inconstant or to forget those they love or have loved. I believe the reverse. I believe... Let me just observe that all histories are against you, all stories, prose, and verse. I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which did not have something to say on women's fickleness.

Anne Elliot:
But they were all written by men.

Henrietta Musgrove:
Louisa is grown so severe, Mama, I wonder she shall want a ribbon in her hair at all. Give her a book of verse to hold instead!

Admiral Croft:
What do you say, Sophie, is Frederick ready to fall in love?

Mrs Croft:
I think he's ready to make a very foolish match, George.

Anne:
Oh, why is the whole town suffering from this dreadful misapprehension that I shall marry him!

Mary Musgrove:
Are you coming in, Henrietta, or is my cottage insufficiently grand for you?

Mary Musgrove:
It is so uncomfortable not having a carriage of one's own.

Anne Elliot:
Are you here for the concert?

Captain Wentworth:
No, I am here for a lecture on navigation. Am I in the wrong place?

Captain Wentworth:
Do the women often come shooting Charles?

Charles Musgrove:
Not that often Frederick, no.

Anne Elliot:
If I may, so long as the woman you love lives, and lives for you, all the privilege I claim for my own sex, and it is not a very enviable one - you need not covet it, is that of loving longest when all hope is gone.

Elizabeth Elliot:
When Captain Wentworth arrives you must not monopolise him. That's a very bad habit of yours.

Anne Elliot:
But I so dislike Bath.

Lady Russell:
Only because you associate it with the passing of your dear mother.

Mary Musgrove:
Anne, why could you not have come sooner?

Anne Elliot:
My dear Mary, I really have had so much to do.

Mary Musgrove:
Do? What can you possibly have had to do?

Anne Elliot:
A great many things I assure you.

Mary Musgrove:
Well. Dear me.

Anne Elliot:
But their minds are so dissimilar.

Anne Elliot:
My instinct tells me, he is charming and clever but I have seen no burst of feeling, warmth of fury or delight

Captain Benwick:
[Anne and Benwick are discussing poetry and he asks her which she prefers of two poems by Sir Walter Scott. Anne answers by quoting a line from the second poem. They then alternately recite the next few lines] Tell me, do you prefer "Marmion" or "The Lady of the Lake?"

Anne:
"Like the dew on the mountain / Like the foam on the river /"

Captain Benwick:
"Like the bubble on the fountain / Thou art gone /"

Anne:
"and forever!"

Lili:
I always hoped to die youmg, but now it's too late.

LILI:
Your dog is making love to my foot.

Monica:
You're supposed to wish the bride happiness.

Lili:
Happiness? Good God! No one should ever expect happiness from marriage. A few quiet moments, perhaps, if one is lucky... and an occasional day that doesn't incite you to murder.

John Talbot:
Heaven does not interest mankind, it is too much like a never ending Sunday afternoon. It is Hell that captivates us.

Bex Bissell:
[shouts] I need the buzz!

Bex Bissell:
That's almost funny.

Bex Bissell:
How can I put this?

Bex Bissell:
I can't [Head butts Yousef's brother, Wes]

Bex Bissell:
We come in peace, we leave you in pieces.

Dessie Curley:
I haven't cried since I was a kid.

Sharon Curley:
You cried during the World Cup.

Dessie Curley:
Sober, Sharon! Sober!

Sharon Curley:
Why won't you talk to me anymore?

Dessie Curley:
I do talk to you!

Sharon Curley:
You don't.

Dessie Curley:
Yes, I do! I said hello to you yesterday!

Kay Curley:
It's a terrible shock...

Dessie Curley:
What is?

Kay Curley:
Being married for 25 years, and finding out your husband's a prick.

Dessie Curley:
[at a pub, after Sharon's delivery] 7 pounds 12 ounces.

Loner:
Is that a baby, or a turkey?

Dessie Curley:
A baby!

Loner:
That's a good-sized baby.

Dessie Curley:
Right.

Loner:
Small turkey, though.

Dessie Curley:
[trying to discover the father of Sharon's baby] How do you know he was Spanish? Or a sailor? He could've been a Pakistani postman if you were that drunk!

Dessie Curley:
[to Kay, after finding nothing to watch on TV] I suppose a ride's out of the question?

Sharon Curley:
What if it's a girl, and it looks like Mr. Burgess?

Dessie Curley:
Oh, shite! I guess we'll have to smother it and leave it on his step.

Young Lad:
Is this your first?

Dessie Curley:
Yeah. Oh no, no, no. It's, uh, it's my first grandchild. Is it your first?

Young Lad:
No, my third.

Dessie Curley:
Have you read this? [holds a Family Planning book]

Dessie Curley:
Spanish, no less.

Sharon Curley:
Yeah. Spanish.

Dessie Curley:
An Irish sailor wasn't good enough for you, what? And will Sinbad the Spanish sailor pay for Burgess' broken window, I wonder.

Dessie Curley:
What's hard and hairy on the outside? It's wet... And soft on the inside. [in between laughs] Jesus. It begins with a "C". It ends with a "T". And it has a "U" and an "N" in it. A co-co-co-nut. A coconut! [crowd laughs]

Dessie Curley:
Nowadays, the husband are there, with the wives, you know. I think that's much better. Cause they're able to hold our hands and, help them and encourage them, and see their child being born.

George Burgess:
Sharon, please, I have to talk. I'm tormented!

Sharon Curley:
You're tormented? You've made me the laughing stock of Barrytown, I can't go out without being jeered at. You're tormented? You prick ya!

Nina:
You're dead and you're still into party politics?

Nina:
I can't believe I have a bunch of dead people watching videos in my living room.

Nina:
My Feet will want to march to where you are sleeping, but I shall go on living.

[Nina and Jamie are looking looking at clouds]

Nina:
Your mother!

Jamie:
You think every cloud looks like my mother.

Nina:
This one really does look like your mother! Look: eyes, nose, eyebrows... brilliant!

Jamie:
My mother has not got a beard!

Mark:
Attempted suicide at the age of seventeen - can't remember why, I was sad about something.

Nina:
Parents alive, Gloucestershire, teachers. Him geography, her history. So holidays it would be "Dad, where are we? Mum, have we been here before?"

Jamie:
I blame the government.

Nina:
What?

Jamie:
The government.

Nina:
What's the government got to do with anything?

Jamie:
I hate the bastards.

Nina:
I love you.

Jamie:
I love you.

Nina:
I really love you.

Jamie:
I really, truly love you.

Nina:
I really, truly, madly love you.

Jamie:
I really, truly, madly, deeply love you.

Nina:
I really, truly, madly, deeply, passionately love you.

Jamie:
I really, truly, madly, deeply, passionately, remarkably love you.

Nina:
I really, truly, madly, deeply, passionately, remarkably, umm... deliciously love you.

Jamie:
I really, truly, madly, passionately, remarkably, deliciously... juicily love you.

Nina:
Deeply! Deeply! You passed on deeply, which was your word, which means you couldn't have meant it! So you're a fraud, that's it!

[Jaime playfully pushes Nina away, then pulls her back towards him]

Nina:
You're probably a figment of my imagination... [pauses] Juicily?

[Both laugh and make faces]

Jamie:
She wanted my cello, didn't she? Bloody cheek!

Nina:
[notices Jamie blowing on his fingers, then touching them to his mouth] Darling? What are you doing?

Jamie:
Warming my lips.

Titus:
[shows up at Nina's apartment with flowers] I make decision. We go to Paris. Make love for one week.

Nina:
[laughs] Oh, Titus. You're fab. You're so sweet. [face falls when he shows her tickets]

Nina:
Oh, dear. Titus, I can't go to Paris with you.

Titus:
You do not like Paris? You don't want to make love?

Nina:
For a week? Oh, no, no, no.

Jamie:
...But, the pain. Your pain. I couldn't bear that. There's a little girl I see from time to time - Alice, who's three. Well, three and a half. Oh, she's great. Everyone loves her, but she's not spoiled - Well, wasn't spoiled. She was knocked over and she died. Her parents, and family, and friends from kindergarten... She used to go to this playground. See, they made an area in the park. Gave 'em money for swings, and little wooden animals, and there are these plaques on the sides of the swing, bottom of the horse: 'From Alice's mom and dad. In Memory of Alice, who used to play here'. And of course, Alice goes back there all the time. And when you see the parents take their child from the swing, and see the sign... They hold on to their son and daughter, so tightly, clinging on for dear life. And yet... The capacity that people have to love... Where does it go?

Jamie:
Thank you for missing me.

Nina:
I have. I - I do.

Nina:
I am like someone who carries their loved one on their shoulder.

Nina:
My feet shall long to go to the place where you you are sleeping, but I shall go on living.

Jamie:
Do you want me to leave?

Nina:
No, never, never, never, never, never!

Nina:
Tell me about the first night we spent together.

Jamie:
Why? Seriously? You want me to?

Nina:
[nods] What did we do?

Jamie:
We talked.

Nina:
What else?

Jamie:
Well, talking was the major component. You played that piano. Then I played, then we both played... something - duet - something... can't remember. And then you danced for about three hours, until I fell asleep. But you were fantastic. And then we had some corn flakes. And when we kissed, which was about 11 o'clock the following morning, we were trembling so much we couldn't take off our clothes.

Jack:
This tiny island has no Coca-Cola signs, no muzak, no hamburgers, not a sniff of cocaine or a single sud of a sodding soap opera, no muggers, nothing - no amenities whatsobloodyever. It's as though America lived in vain. Everywhere else I've been - especially ye olde England - is a pocket-sized imitation of the Land of the Free.