by Dan Laurence
The nurse turns all the lights full on.
THE PATIENT [hiding her eyes] Oh! Oh! I cant bear it: turn it off.
The nurse switches the lights off.
THE PATIENT. So inconsiderate of you!
The nurse switches the lights on again.
THE PATIENT. Oh, please, please. Not all that light.
The nurse switches off.
THE PATIENT. No, no. Leave me something to read by. My bedside lamp is not enough, you stupid idiot.
The nurse switches on again, and calmly returns to the bedside.
THE PATIENT. I cant imagine how anyone can be so thoughtless and clumsy when I am so ill. I am suffering horribly. Shut that window and switch off half those lights at once: do you hear?
The nurse snatches the eiderdown and one of the pillows rudely from the bed, letting the patient down with a jerk, and arranges them comfortably in the bedside chair.
THE PATIENT. How dare you touch my pillow? The audacity!
The nurse sits down; takes out a leaf from an illustrated journal; and proceeds to study it attentively.
THE PATIENT. Well! How much longer are you going to sit there neglecting me? Shut that window instantly.
THE NURSE [insolently, in her commonest dialect] Oh go to – to sleep [she resumes her study of the document].
THE PATIENT. Dont dare address me like that. I dont believe you are a properly qualified nurse.
THE NURSE [calmly] I should think not. I wouldnt take five thousand a year to be a nurse. But I know how to deal with you and your like, because I was once a patient in a hospital where the women patients were a rough lot, and the nurses had to treat them accordingly. I kept my eyes open there, and learnt a little of the game. [She takes a paper packet from her pocket and opens it on the bedside table. It contains about half a pound of kitchen salt]. Do you know what that is and what it’s for?
THE PATIENT. Is it medicine?
THE NURSE. Yes. It’s a cure for screaming and hysterics and tantrums. When a woman starts making a row, the first thing she does is to open her mouth. A nurse who knows her business just shoves a handful of this into it. Common kitchen salt. No more screaming. Understand?
THE PATIENT [hardily] No I dont [she reaches for the bell].
THE NURSE [intercepting her quickly] No you dont. [She throws the bell cord with its button away on the floor behind the bed]. Now we shant be disturbed. No bell. And if you open your mouth too wide, youll get the salt. See?
THE PATIENT. And do you think I am a poor woman in a hospital whom you can illtreat as you please? Do you know what will happen to you when my mother comes in the morning?
THE NURSE. In the morning, darling, I shall be over the hills and far away.
THE PATIENT. And you expect me, sick as I am, to stay here alone with you!
THE NURSE. We shant be alone. I’m expecting a friend.
THE PATIENT. A friend!
THE NURSE. A gentleman friend. I told him he might drop in when he saw the lights switched off twice.
THE PATIENT. So that was why –
THE NURSE. That was why.
THE PATIENT. And you calmly propose to have your young man here in my room to amuse yourself all night before my face.
THE NURSE. You can go to sleep.
THE PATIENT. I shall do nothing of the sort. You will have to behave yourself decently before me.
THE NURSE. Oh, dont worry about that. He’s coming on business. He’s my business partner, in fact: not my best boy.
THE PATIENT. And can you not find some more suitable place for your business than in my room at night?
THE NURSE. You see, you dont know the nature of the business yet. It’s got to be done here and at night. Here he is, I think.
A burglar, well dressed, wearing rubber gloves and a small white mask over his nose, clambers in. He is still in his early thirties, and quite goodlooking. His voice is disarmingly pleasant.
THE BURGLAR. All right, Sweetie?
THE NURSE. All right, Popsy.
The burglar closes the window softly; draws the curtains; and comes past the nurse to the bedside.
THE BURGLAR. Damn it, she’s awake. Didnt you give her a sleeping draught?
THE PATIENT. Do you expect me to sleep with you in the room? Who are you? and what are you wearing that mask for?
THE BURGLAR. Only so that you will not recognize me if we should happen to meet again.
THE PATIENT. I have no intention of meeting you again. So you may just as well take it off.
THE NURSE. I havnt broken to her what we are here for, Popsy.
THE PATIENT. I neither know nor care what you are here for. All I can tell you is that if you dont leave the room at once and send my mother to me, I will give you both measles.
THE BURGLAR. We have both had them, dear invalid. I am afraid we must intrude a little longer. [To the nurse] Have you found out where it is?
THE NURSE. No: I havnt had time. The dressing table’s over there. Try that.
The burglar crosses to the other side of the bed, coming round by the foot of it, and is making for the dressing table when –
THE PATIENT. What do you want at my dressing table?
THE BURGLAR. Obviously, your celebrated pearl necklace.
THE PATIENT [escaping from her bed with a formidable bound and planting herself with her back to the dressing table as a bulwark for the jewel case] Not if I know it, you shant.
THE BURGLAR [approaching her] You really must allow me.
THE PATIENT. Take that.
Holding on to the table edge behind her, she lifts her foot vigorously waist high, and shoots it hard into his solar plexus. He curls up on the bed with an agonized groan and rolls off on to the carpet at the other side. The nurse rushes across behind the head of the bed and tackles the patient. The patient swoops at her knees; lifts her; and sends her flying. She comes down with a thump flat on her back on the couch. The patient pants hard; sways giddily; staggers to the bed and falls on it, exhausted. The nurse, dazed by the patient’s very unexpected athleticism, but not hurt, springs up.
THE NURSE. Quick, Popsy: tie her feet. She’s fainted.
THE BURGLAR [utters a lamentable groan and rolls over on his face]!!
THE NURSE. Be quick, will you?
THE BURGLAR [trying to rise] Ugh! Ugh!
THE NURSE [running to him and shaking him] My God, you are a fool, Popsy. Come and help me before she comes to. She’s too strong for me.
THE BURGLAR. Ugh! Let me die.
THE NURSE. Are you going to lie there for ever? Has she killed you?
THE BURGLAR [rising slowly to his knees] As nearly as doesnt matter. Oh, Sweetie, why did you tell me that this heavyweight champion was a helpless invalid?
THE NURSE. Shut up. Get the pearls.
THE BURGLAR [rising with difficulty] I dont seem to want any pearls. She got me just in the wind. I am sorry to have been of so little assistance: but oh, my Sweetie-Weetie, Nature never intended us to be burglars. Our first attempt has been a hopeless failure. Let us apologize and withdraw.
THE NURSE. Fathead! Dont be such a coward. [Looking closely at the patient] I say, Popsy: I believe she’s asleep.
THE BURGLAR. Let her sleep. Wake not the lioness’s wrath.
THE NURSE. You maddening fool, dont you see that we can tie her feet and gag her before she wakes, and get away with the pearls. It’s quite easy if we do it quick together. Come along.
THE BURGLAR. Do not deceive yourself, my pet: we should have about as much chance as if we tried to take a female gorilla to the Zoo. No: I am not going to steal those jewels. Honesty is the best policy. I have another idea, and a much better one. You leave this to me. [He goes to the dressing table. She follows him].
THE NURSE. Whatever have you got into your silly head now?
THE BURGLAR. You shall see. [Handling the jewel case] One of these safes that open by a secret arrangement of letters. As they are as troublesome as an automatic telephone nobody ever locks th
em. Here is the necklace. By Jove! If they are all real, it must be worth about twenty thousand pounds. Gosh! here’s a ring with a big blue diamond in it. Worth four thousand pounds if it’s worth a penny. Sweetie: we are on velvet for the rest of our lives.
THE NURSE. What good are blue diamonds to us if we dont steal them?
THE BURGLAR. Wait. Wait and see. Go and sit down in that chair and look as like a nice gentle nurse as you can.
THE NURSE. But –
THE BURGLAR. Do as you are told. Have faith – faith in your Popsy.
THE NURSE [obeying] Well, I give it up. Youre mad.
THE BURGLAR. I was never saner in my life. Stop. How does she call people? Hasnt she an electric bell? Where is it?
THE NURSE [picking it up] Here. I chucked it out of her reach when she was grabbing at it.
THE BURGLAR. Put it on the bed close to her hand.
THE NURSE. Popsy: youre off your chump. She –
THE BURGLAR. Sweetie: in our firm I am the brains: you are the hand. This is going to be our most glorious achievement. Obey me instantly.
THE NURSE [resignedly] Oh, very well. [She places the handle of the bell as desired]. I wash my hands of this job. [She sits down doggedly].
THE BURGLAR [coming to the bedside] By the way, she is hardly a success as The Sleeping Beauty. She has a wretched complexion: and her breath is not precisely ambrosial. But if we can turn her out to grass she may put up some good looks. And if her punch is anything like her kick she will be an invaluable bodyguard for us two weaklings – if I can persuade her to join us.
THE NURSE. Join us! What do you mean?
THE BURGLAR. Shshshshsh. Not too much noise: we must wake her gently. [He stoops to the patient’s ear and whispers] Miss Mopply.
THE PATIENT [in a murmur of protest] Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
THE NURSE. What does she say?
THE BURGLAR. She says, in effect, ‘You have waked me too soon: I must slumber again.’ [To the patient, more distinctly] It is not your dear mother, Miss Mopply: it is the burglar. [The patient springs half up, threateningly. He falls on his knees and throws up his hands]. Kamerad, Miss Mopply: Kamerad! I am utterly at your mercy. The bell is on your bed, close to your hand: look at it. You have only to press the button to bring your mother and the police in upon me [she seizes the handle of the bell] and be a miserable invalid again for the rest of your life. [She drops the bell thoughtfully]. Not an attractive prospect, is it? Now listen. I have something to propose to you of the greatest importance: something that may make another woman of you and change your entire destiny. You can listen to me in perfect security: at any moment you can ring your bell, or throw us out of the window if you prefer it. I ask you for five minutes only.
THE PATIENT [still dangerously on guard] Well?
THE BURGLAR [rising] Let me give you one more proof of my confidence. [He takes off his mask]. Look. Can you be afraid of such a face? Do I look like a burglar?
THE PATIENT [relaxing, and even shewing signs of goodhumor] No: you look like a curate.
THE BURGLAR [a little hurt] Oh, not a curate. I hope I look at least like a beneficed clergyman. But it is very clever of you to have found me out. The fact is, I am a clergyman. But I must ask you to keep it a dead secret: for my father, who is an atheist, would disinherit me if he knew. I was secretly ordained when I was up at Oxford.
THE PATIENT. Oh, this is ridiculous. I’m dreaming. It must be that new sleeping draught the doctor gave me. But it’s delicious, because I’m dreaming that I’m perfectly well. Ive never been so happy in my life. Go on with the dream, Pops: the nicest part of it is that I am in love with you. My beautiful Pops, my own, my darling, you are a perfect film hero, only more like an English gentleman. [She waves him a kiss].
THE NURSE. Well I’ll be da –
THE BURGLAR. Shshshshsh. Break not the spell.
THE PATIENT [with a deep sigh of contentment] Let nobody wake me. I’m in heaven. [She sinks back blissfully on her pillows]. Go on, Pops. Tell me another.
THE BURGLAR. Splendid. [He takes a chair from beside the dressing table and seats himself comfortably at the bedside]. We are going to have an ideal night. Now listen. Picture to yourself a heavenly afternoon in July: a Scottish loch surrounded by mirrored mountains, and a boat – may I call it a shallop? –
THE PATIENT [ecstatically] A shallop! Oh, Popsy!
THE BURGLAR. – with Sweetie sitting in the stern, and I stretched out at full length with my head pillowed on Sweetie’s knees.
THE PATIENT. You can leave Sweetie out, Pops. Her amorous emotions do not interest me.
THE BURGLAR. You misunderstand. Sweetie’s thoughts were far from me. She was thinking about you.
THE PATIENT. Just like her impudence! How did she know about me?
THE BURGLAR. Simply enough. In her lily hand was a copy of The Lady’s Pictorial. It contained an illustrated account of your jewels. Can you guess what Sweetie said to me as she gazed at the soft majesty of the mountains and bathed her soul in the beauty of the sunset?
THE PATIENT. Yes. She said ‘Popsy: we must pinch that necklace.’
THE BURGLAR. Exactly. Word for word. But now can you guess what I said?
THE PATIENT. I suppose you said ‘Right you are, Sweetie’ or something vulgar like that.
THE BURGLAR. Wrong. I said, ‘If that girl had any sense she’d steal the necklace herself.’
THE PATIENT. Oh! This is getting interesting. How could I steal my own necklace?
THE BURGLAR. Sell it; and have a glorious spree with the price. See life. Live. You dont call being an invalid living, do you?
THE PATIENT. Why shouldnt I call it living? I am not dead. Of course when I am awake I am terribly delicate –
THE BURGLAR. Delicate! It’s not five minutes since you knocked me out, and threw Sweetie all over the room. If you can fight like that for a string of pearls that you never have a chance of wearing, why not fight for freedom to do what you like, with your pocket full of money and all the fun in the wide world at your command? Hang it all, dont you want to be young and goodlooking and have a sweet breath and be a lawn tennis champion and enjoy everything that is to be enjoyed instead of frowsting here and being messed about by your silly mother and all the doctors that live on her folly? Have you no conscience, that you waste God’s gifts so shamefully? You think you are in a state of illness. Youre not: youre in a state of sin. Sell the necklace and buy your salvation with the proceeds.
THE PATIENT. Youre a clergyman all right, Pops. But I dont know how to sell the necklace.
THE BURGLAR. I do. Let me sell it for you. You will of course give us a fairly handsome commission on the transaction.
THE PATIENT. Theres some catch in this. If I trust you with it how do I know that you will not keep the whole price for yourself?
THE BURGLAR. Sweetie: Miss Mopply has the makings of a good business woman in her. [To the patient] Just reflect, Mops (Let us call one another Mops and Pops for short). If I steal that necklace, I shall have to sell it as a burglar to a man who will know perfectly well that I have stolen it. I shall be lucky if I get a fiftieth of its value. But if I sell it on the square, as the agent of its lawful owner, I shall be able to get its full market value. The payment will be made to you; and I will trust you to pay me the commission. Sweetie and I will be more than satisfied with fifty per cent.
THE PATIENT. Fifty! Oh!
THE BURGLAR [firmly] I think you will admit that we deserve it for our enterprise, our risk, and the priceless boon of your emancipation from this wretched home. Is it a bargain, Mops?
THE PATIENT. It’s a monstrous overcharge; but in dreamland generosity costs nothing. You shall have your fifty. Lucky for you that I’m asleep. If I wake up I shall never get loose from my people and my social position. It’s all very well for you two criminals: you can do what you like. If you were ladies and gentlemen, youd know how hard it is not to do what everybody else does.
THE BURGLAR. Pardon me; but I think yo
u will feel more at ease with us if I inform you that we are ladies and gentlemen. My own rank – not that I would presume on it for a moment – is, if you ask Burke or Debrett, higher than your own. Your people’s money was made in trade: my people have always lived by owning property or governing Crown Colonies. Sweetie would be a woman of the highest position but for the unfortunate fact that her parents, though united in the sight of Heaven, were not legally married. At least so she tells me.
