SIDE E - Beverly, Brian

BEVERLY. Caro! Caro! You old fart! Vieni qua!

 

BRIAN.  (Delighted.) Sweet Jesus! Beverly!

 

BEVERLY. My God, he even remembers my name!  What a mind! (She hugs and kisses him.)

 

BRIAN.  What a picture!

 

BEVERLY. (Taking off her coat to show her dress and jewels.) All my medals. All of them! I wore as many of them as I could fit.

 

BRIAN.  Fantastic.

 

BEVERLY. Everything I could carry. I tried to get X-rays done but there wasn't time. Inside and out. I'll strip later and show you all of it.

 

BRIAN.  (Laughing.)

Good. Good. What a surprise!  (Another embrace.) I'm so happy you've come. Where's Mark? Have you met him?

 

BEVERLY. Oh, yes. He's beautiful. A little cool, but I'm sure there's a heart in there somewhere.

 

BRIAN.  Where is he?

 

BEVERLY. Well ... he's gone.

 

BRIAN.   What?

 

BEVERLY. It's my fault. I made a very sloppy entrance. I think he left in lieu of punching me in the mouth.

 

BRIAN.  I don't believe it.

 

BEVERLY. It's true. But I do like him.

 

BRIAN.  Good. So do I.

 

BEVERLY. (Insinuating.) So I gather.

 

BRIAN.  (Cheerfully.) Uh-uh. Careful.

 

BEVERLY. Is he any good?

 

BRIAN.  Beverly!

 

BEVERLY. Well, what's it like?

 

BRIAN.   It?

 

BEVERLY. Yes. Him, you, it… - you know I'm a glutton for pornography. Tell me, quick.

 

BRIAN.  (Laughs.) Oh, no.

 

BEVERLY. No?

 

BRIAN.  No. And that's final. I refuse to discuss it.

 

BEVERLY. Brian, that's not fair. Here I am all damp in my pantise and you're changing the subject. Now come on. Tell me all about it

 

BRIAN. Absolutely not. I'm much too happy.

 

BEVERLY. Brian, I was married to you. I deserve an explanation. Isn't that what I'm supposed to say?

 

BRIAN.  Yes. But you're too late. No excuses, no explanations. (Singing.) He is my sunshine, my only sunshine.  He’s the -pardon the expression- cream in my coffee -the milk in my tea-He will always be my necessity

 

BEVERLY. Ah, but is he enough?

 

BRIAN.  More than enough.

 

BEVERLY. Shucks.

 

BRIAN.  (Laughs.) Sorry, but it's out of my hands. All of it. Some supreme logic has taken hold of my life. And in the absence of any refutable tomorrow, every insane thing I do today seems to make a great deal of sense.

 

BEVERLY. What the hell does that mean?

 

BRIAN. It means there are more important things in this world.

 

BEVERLY. More important than what?

 

BRIAN.  More important than worrying about who is fucking whom.

 

BEVERLY. You are happy, aren't you?

 

BRIAN.  Ecstatic. I'm even writing again.

 

BEVERLY. Oh, my God. You couldn't be that happy!

 

BRIAN. Why not?

 

BEVERLY. Brian, you're a terrible writer, and you know it.

 

BRIAN.  So?

 

BEVERLY. Outside of that wonderful book of cross, word puzzles, your greatest contribution to the literary world was your retirement.

 

BRIAN.  (Finishes the sentence with her.) . . . my retirement. Yes. Well, the literary world, such as it is, will have to brave the storm. Because I'm back.

 

BEVERLY. But why?

 

BRIAN.  Pure and unadulterated masochism. No. It's just that when they told me I was on the way out so to speak I realized that there was a lot to do that I hadn't done yet. So I figured I better get off my ass and start working.

 

BEVERLY. Doing what?

 

BRIAN.  Everything! Everything! It's amazing what you can accomplish. Two rotten novels, twenty-seven boring stories, several volumes of tortured verse--including twelve Italian sonnets and one epic investigation of the Firth of Forth Bridge ...

 

BEVERLY. The what?

 

BRIAN.  The bridge. The railroad bridge in Scotland. The one Hitchcock used in "The Thirty-Nine Steps.’ You remember. We saw the picture on our honeymoon.

 

BEVERLY. Oh, yes.

 

BRIAN.  And I swore that one day I would do a poem about it. Well, I've done it.

 

BEVERLY.  Thank God.

 

BRIAN.  Four hundred stanzas - trochaic hexameters with rhymed couplets. (He demonstrates the rhythm.) Da-da-da, Da-da-da, Da-da-da, Da-da-da, Da-da-da, Da-da-da, Da-da-da-Dee! It's perfectly ghastly. But it's done. I've also completed nearly one hundred and thirty-six epitaphs, the largest contribution to the Forest Lawn catalogue since Edna St. Vincent Millay, and I've also done four autobiographies.

 

BEVERLY. Four?!

 

BRIAN.   Yes. Each one under a different name. There's a huge market for dying people right now. My agent assured me.

 

END