Page 96 – 97 / 1941 – 42
Left Hand Page
Reverse of ‘Bawdy’s Roman Holiday Scene 3’, on list of Alexandra Hospital staff., script (unknown author)
Right Hand Page
‘Bawdy’s Roman Holiday Scene 3’ (cont.).
BAWDY’S ROMAN HOLIDAY
SCENE 3 (Cont)
H. (to Brutie) You won’t ‘urt ‘er?
BR. Hurt her? I’ll ravish her three times and then I’ll cut her into little pieces.
(Enter Bawdy, not knowing Alfred’s sun has set)
B. Oh, it’s old Fatgut.
BR. Yes, it’s old Fatgut. Come here my little dumpling.
B. Don’t insult-
BR. Come here!
(Bawdy realising something is wrong obeys.)
BR. Don’t be frightened on me. I like you. I could eat you. You little goose liver. (He takes her cheek in his hands. Rubbing noses) Yum-yum-yum-yum-yum-yum!
B. Lemme go. You bloomin’ eskimo!
BR. Oh, I can get hot. Oh yes.
(Lifts her up & starts to carry her off. Music off. Enter Alfred, sworded and shielded)
A. (Waving sword) Unhand that maiden!
BR. Ha! Ha! (He drops Bawdy)
A. (Advancing) Avat thee!
(They engage, flinging insults at each other. Alf runs Brutie thro’)
BR. (Clutching his side) By Janus thou hast run me thro’! My gore commingles with the dust. My soul speeds to that land from whose bourne no traveller returns. Kiss me Bawdy. Too late. I die! Intestate.
(He collapses. Bawdy rushes up to Alf & embraces him)
B. My ‘ero! (Alf looks coy. Suddenly he see candle on the table).
A. (Breaking free) The candle. Put the candle back in the window. It is the signal for the attack.
(Enter Harry in panic)
H. The dam! The dam! The Goths have broken the dam. They’re flooding the city!
A. (Setting down candle again) Too late. We can’t get out.
B. Oh we shall all be drowned and its all your fault – you and your politics!
A. (Stung) If it hadn’t been for me and my politics you’d be in the lechers.
H. (Anxiously looking out of the window). Lumme! It’s pourin’ in (Moaning) I tell you Jupiter’s gonna drown the world.
A. I’ll drown you if you don’t shut up. If you’re going to die you’ll die and the world will be just one slave dealer missing. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re in the safest place in the City.
H. You should see this water.
B. AW stop it ‘Arry.
H. (Truculently) Now don’t you start —
A. (Breaking it up) All right! All right! (Goes over to window, whistling despite himself) Blimey!
H. There! I told you! (sudden piety) Do you think we ought to propitiate Diana, Alfred?
A. What with? A candle?
H. Noffink but blood can placate the Gods.
A. Well why don’t you cut your throat?
H. If only we had a little pig.
B. There you go! Thinking of your stomach at a time like this. (Harry is speaking gravely)
H. (Looking out) Look Alfred. Look at the water. Alf we’ve got to mike a yuman scarifice.
A. (laughing) Well let’s draw lots.
H. (Who wouldn’t think of dying) Oh no. I think them wot aren’t as much use to the community as the other two ought to volunteer.
B. Well don’t look at me.
H. (Trying to be reasonable) Nar try an look at this matter dispassionately Bawdy. Do you honestly
consider you’re as much value to posterity as Alf an me?
B. Posterity! If it wasn’t for the likes of me there wouldn’t be any posterity.
(Harry looks out. His face registers horror)
H. Alf! She’s got to die. For the benefit of humanity. (He picks up a knife from the table)
A. Now don’t be a bladdy fool.
H. I means it Alfred. (He advances with knife)
B. (Taking refuge in Alf’s arms) He’s mad Alfred. He’s mad.
A. Now put that knife down.
(H still comes on. Sound of cheering heard off.)
H. What’s that? (He goes to window. Hardly able to believe his eye.) It’s subsiding Alfred. The water’s goin dahn. Thank Jupiter! (He drops knife. They all gather at window)
B. (Embracing Alf.) Oh, Alfred!
A. (Disengaging) We’ve got to get away. We’ve got to leave the City immediately.
B. (Excitedly) Oo, where are we going Alfred?
A. (Coyly) Well that sort o’ depends on you B.
B. Oo. Let’s go to Sarfend!
A. I don’t like Southend. I’d like to go to Bristol and settle down somewhere quiet. Somewhere like St. Annes-on-sea.
B. (Grimacing) I don’t like quiet places Alfred.
A. Well anyway we can discuss that later. But definitely not Southend. There are too many pilgrims. I’m going up to pack. (Kisses her chastely. She disappointed. Exit Alf. Harry comes up slyly. Sits near her)
H. Bawdy –
B. Don’t you talk to me you blood sucker.
H. Bawdy (More ingratiating)
H. You don’t want to go and live at St.Annes, do you? You ain’t Alfred’s type & you know it.
B. (Refusing to hear) Alfred is a ‘ero.
H. Yes, an’ ‘ave you ever tried livin’ wiv an ‘ero?
B. Alfred is noble and you –
H. Me! I’m yuman – and glad of it. Flesh and blood. (He seizes her and kisses her) Does Alfred kiss you like that? Course ‘e don’t. Wiv all ‘is book learning ‘e don’t know ‘ow. (He gets up_ Well must be going).
B. You ain’t leavin’ ‘Arry? Not for good?
H. Yuss. I’ve got promise of a little pub in ‘Ighbury. An I’m goin to get married an settle dahn (Abruptly) Well – so long Bawdy. It’s been nice knowing yer. (Makes for door)
B. I’m coming wiv yer. (Runs over to him) Quick, while ‘e’s away.
H. Ain’t yer goin to write ‘im a note? Alfreds a ‘ero you know.
B. Yes. And you’re a no-good and you’ll probably leave me for one of the barmaids. But I luv yer. (They embrace. Enter Alfred, looking like George Formby, with hat & bag.)
A. (Protesting) ‘ere
B. (laughing) Don’t ‘e look a goof? Well we’re off Alfred. (She waves)
H. We’re leavin’. See you in church.
B. Yes – so long sucker.
(They exit. Alfred sits centre)
A. (Chin in his hand) WELL WOULDN’T IT ROOT YER?
C U R T A I N .