29 April 2007

from Under Milk Wood (Dylan Thomas)

Mr and Mrs Cherry Owen, in their Donkey Street room that is bedroom, parlour, kitchen, and scullery, sit down to last night's supper of onions boiled in their overcoats and broth of spuds and baconrind and leeks and bones.

MRS CHERRY OWEN
See that smudge on the wall by the picture of Auntie Blossom? That's where you threw the sago. [Cherry Owen laughs with delight.] You only missed me by an inch.

CHERRY OWEN
I always miss Auntie Blossom too.

MRS CHERRY OWEN
Remember last night? In you reeled, my boy, as drunk as a deacon with a big wet bucket and a fish-frail full of stout and you looked at me and you said, 'God has come home!', you said, and then over the bucket you went, sprawling and bawling, and the floor was all flagons and eels.

CHERRY OWEN
Was I wounded?

MRS CHERRY OWEN
And then you took off your trousers and you said, 'Does anybody want a fight?' Oh, you old baboon.

CHERRY OWEN
Give us a kiss.

MRS CHERRY OWEN
And then you sang 'Aberystwyth', tenor and bass.

CHERRY OWEN
I always sing 'Aberystwyth'.

MRS CHERRY OWEN
And then you did a little dance on the table.

CHERRY OWEN
I did?

MRS CHERRY OWEN
Drop dead!

CHERRY OWEN
And then what did I do?

MRS CHERRY OWEN
Then you cried like a baby and said you were a poor drunk orphan with nowhere to go but the grave.

CHERRY OWEN
And what did I do next, my dear?

MRS CHERRY OWEN
Then you danced on the table all over again and said you were King Solomon Owen and I was your Mrs Sheba.

CHERRY OWEN [Softly]
And then?

MRS CHERRY OWEN
And then I got you into bed and you breathed all night like a brewery.

[Mr and Mrs Cherry Owen laugh delightedly together.]

No comments: