by John Cleese
Basil: . . . What? (he goes out through the main door, breaking into a run as he goes down the steps) Sybil! Sybil! Sybil! (he tries to stop her as she drives off, fails, and runs after the car as it disappears down the drive) Sybil! No! No no no! You don’t understand! I remembered, Sybil! There’s a party, Sybil, I’ve asked people over. Come back, it’s our anniversary, you stupid . . . bird-brained . . . (he runs out of the gate a few paces but Sybil has definitely gone) Oh my God.
He turns, sinks to the ground, and beats the ground for a moment with both his fists. A car comes up the drive and brakes quite sharply beside him. The occupants are Roger and Alice, one of the couples invited for drinks.
Roger (leaning out of the window): Everything all right?
Basil (getting up and indicating the area he’s been hitting): Bit of a bump. Just smoothing it out. (he stamps on it)
Alice: Are we too early?
Basil: Oh, no, not at all. Come on in. (the car moves on; he races ahead of them into the lobby)
In the lobby, Manuel is explaining to Polly as Basil rushes in.
Basil: They’re here, they’re here, what do I say . . . what am I going to say?
Polly: Oh . . . say she’s er . . . um . . .
Basil: She’s ‘er, um’ . . . oh, brilliant! Problem solved, she’s ‘er, um’.
Manuel: Is surprise party.
Basil: Yes.
Manuel: She not here.
Basil: Right.
Manuel: That is surprise.
Basil would hit him but Roger and Alice enter at this moment.
Roger: Hallo, Bas.
Polly (to Basil): Say she’s ill.
Basil: She’s ill!!
Roger: What?
Basil: She’s ill, Sybil, how are you. What would you like to drink.
Roger: Syb-ill?
Basil: Yes.
Alice: Oh dear, what’s the matter?
Roger: Did you hear that? I said ‘Syb-ill’.
Basil: Yes.
Roger: Got it?
Basil: . . . No, no, I’m fine.
Roger: No, no, no, I call her ‘Syb’, right? So, Syb-ill. Bas-well. Ha ha!
Manuel (joining in): Man-well! Ha ha! (he goes into the kitchen)
Alice: What’s the matter, Basil?
Roger: Yes, what have you done to her, eh, Bas?
Alice: Roger?
Roger: She knows my name—she’s been learning it all night.
Alice: What’s the matter, Basil?
Basil: Nothing . . . (Alice stares) Nothing.
Alice: With Sybil.
Basil: Oh, with Sybil. Oh . . . quite a bit actually.
Alice: Oh dear.
Basil: No, no, she’s fine. She’s absolutely fine . . . well, I mean she’s feeling dreadful, but she’ll live and that’s what counts in the long run, isn’t it. Ha ha.
Alice: Well I’ll pop up and see her, then.
Basil: Oh, you don’t want to bother with that. Come on through and have a drink.
He starts moving towards the bar. Alice stays put. He stops.
Alice: No, you go on. I’ll see you in a moment.
Basil (hurrying back to her): No, er, Alice . . .
Alice: Yes?
Basil: I . . . I wouldn’t, actually.
Roger: Let ’em have a natter, old boy.
Basil: No, no, I mustn’t.
Alice: Oh, but she’s up there on her own, I’m sure she’d like a little company.
Basil: Uh-huh.
Alice: I know I would.
Basil: Well you wouldn’t if you looked like her. You know, she’s very swollen up . . . you know . . . (he indicates the eyes) . . . And she looks fairly . . . you know what Sybil’s like about her appearance. (he grabs Alice’s hand)
Alice: Oh, don’t be silly, Basil, she won’t mind me seeing her.
Basil (restraining her): Oh she would! I think she would.
Alice: But it’s her anniversary and she’s all on her own.
Basil: Aah! (he grabs his leg) The old leg . . . bit of gyp. Ooh! Better have a drink. Come on through. (he tries to guide Alice towards the bar)
Alice: Poor old Basil! Well, look, let me call her, then.
Basil: . . . What?
Alice: Let me call her from down here and see what she says about it.
Basil: Er . . .
Alice (pointing to phone on reception desk): There’s the phone.
Roger: Come on, Bas, let’s have a drink.
Basil (to Alice): No, no, please.
Roger: Come on!
Basil: Please.
Alice: Why not?
Basil: Well, she’s having a bit of a sleep . . . you know.
Alice: Well, she can sleep all day, Basil, she won’t mind me just . . .
Basil: No, but she’s . . . lost her voice.
Alice: . . . Lost her voice?
Basil: Poor thing! Gone . . . just like that.
Roger: Come on.
Basil: Just coming, Roger. After you, Alice . . . in here.
They move into the bar.
Basil: Right, Alice . . . What would you . . . what would you like to drink, Alice?
Alice: Gin and It, please Basil.
Basil: Right.
Alice: Has the doctor been?
Basil: Er . . . what’s yours, Rog?
Roger (surprised Basil has to ask): Gin and tonic.
Basil: Oh yes of course. Right.
Alice: Basil, has the doctor been?
Basil: Nuts?
Roger (sotto voce to Alice): They’ve had a row. She’s refused to come down.
Basil: Um . . . you were just asking about the doctor.
Alice: Yes.
Basil: You see, he hasn’t been yet in fact.
Alice: Oh.
Basil: I expect we’ll get him over this afternoon.
Roger: What a shame, eh? Poor old Syb. On your anniversary too.
Polly comes in from the lobby.
Alice: Ah! Hallo, Polly.
Polly: Oh, hallo, Mrs. Tarry.
Alice: Isn’t it a shame about Mrs. Fawlty.
Polly: Isn’t it—I’m afraid the doctor says she’s going to have to be quiet in bed for a couple of days.
Basil: Yes, but the doctor hasn’t actually been yet Polly . . . I don’t know who you were thinking of . . .
Polly: But that man this morning . . . he looked like a doctor.
Basil: Yes, yes, he did actually, yes, that’s true . . . but he wasn’t. Unfortunately.
Roger: He wasn’t a doctor.
Basil: No, no. He was a dentist.
Roger: A dentist?
Basil: . . . Yes.
Roger: What’s a dentist doing here?
Basil: Staying in the hotel . . . he’s a guest, you see. Dentists do stay at hotels, you know.
Roger: Yes, but they don’t go around telling other people’s wives to stay in bed, do they.
Polly: Oh, he must have been talking about his wife.
Roger: His wife.
Basil: Well, jolly good luck. Nice to see you both. Cheers!
Alice: Cheers.
Roger: Up yours, Bas. (they drink)
Alice: Well, I hope she’s better soon.
Basil: Oh, yes, yes.
Roger: Who, Syb or the dentist’s wife?
A pause.
Basil (gives a forced laugh): Well, you’re both keeping well, are you?
Roger: Oh, yes, yes, couldn’t be better.
Alice: And you, Basil?
Basil: Oh, can’t complain. Well, I could, but it wouldn’t do any good, would it. Ha ha.
Alice: No . . . a shame, and on your anniversary as well.
Basil: Yes. Still, it all comes out in the wash, doesn’t it. We’re thinking of having this room done up as a matter of fact.
Alice: Really?
Basil: Yes. Sort of captain’s cabin, you know, put a couple of charts on the wall, few ropes, wheel in the corner, that sort of thing.
Roger: Yes, give it a bit of class.
<
br /> Basil: Wasn’t my idea, Roger.
Alice: Poor Sybil.
Arthur and Virginia come in. The others greet them.
Virginia: Hallo Basil.
Basil: Hallo, Virginia. Hallo, Arthur.
Virginia: Happy anniversary!
Basil: Oh, thank you, thank you, yes.
Virginia: We’ve brought you a little surprise. (she takes a cake-tin from Arthur)
Alice: Oh, can I see? (Virginia lifts the lid) Oh, a cake! Lovely!
Basil: Jolly nice.
Alice: Did you make it?
Virginia: Lots of extra marzipan.
Basil: She’s not well.
Virginia: Mmm?
Basil: Sybil.
Virginia: Not well?
Alice: She’s in bed.
Virginia: That’s not like Sybil.
Alice: She’s lost her voice.
Virginia: What is it?
Basil: Well, we’re not absolutely sure.
Roger: I bet she’d like a bit of that marzipan.
Basil (warningly): Roger.
Roger: Cheer her up, Bas.
Virginia: Good idea. We’ll take her up a slice.
Basil: Yes, I don’t think we’d better.
Virginia: Well, why not?
Basil: She really ought not to be disturbed.
Virginia: Just for a minute, Basil.
Basil: It’s not a very good idea. Tomorrow, perhaps.
Virginia: What on earth’s the matter with her?
Basil: Er . . .
Virginia: Has the doctor been?
Roger: No, but the dentist’s had a good look.
Virginia: The dentist?
Basil: No, well, we called the doctor, we described the symptoms to him over the phone and he says she ought to stay very quiet. (Polly has appeared) Ah, Polly. (to Virginia) What would you like to drink, Virginia?
Virginia: Oh, medium sherry, please.
Virginia and Alice sit down at a table. Manuel appears and tries to attract Basil’s attention.
Manuel: Mr. Fawlty!
Virginia: What are the symptoms?
Basil: Well, she’s lost her voice, and she’s very puffed up. (to Manuel) Yes, what is it?
Manuel: Is Terry, he being very difficult . . .
Virginia: Puffed up?
Basil (to Manuel): What?
Manuel: He move my pot. He put his pot where my pot is . . .
Arthur: Beer for me.
Basil: Well, put your pot somewhere else.
Manuel: I put it somewhere else, he move it again.
Polly (out of the side of her mouth as she passes Basil with the drinks): What’s puffed up?
Basil (through clenched teeth): Th’eyes. (to Manuel) Just . . . tell him I said not to do it, all right?
Polly: What?
Basil: Th’eyes.
Manuel: I tell you he want to make trouble, he push mop in my feet . . .
Polly (to Virginia): . . . Her thighs.
Virginia: Thighs!?
Polly: Well, most of her legs, actually. (to Manuel) Now just tell him. Go on. (Manuel exits)
Virginia: Basil—Polly says her legs are puffed up.
Basil (leans down and looks at Polly’s legs): Are they?
Virginia: . . . No, Sybil’s.
Basil: . . . What?
Virginia: Sybil’s legs.
Basil: Sybil’s legs?
Polly: Her thighs!
Basil: . . . Oh, er, yes, just a bit. A tiny bit . . . but mainly round the face. Round the eyes, you know.
Polly (realizing her mistake): Oh!
Virginia: Her face is puffed up, she’s lost her voice, and her legs are a bit . . .
Basil: . . . Expanded. Sad, isn’t it. Poor old sow.
Virginia: Well, when’s the doctor coming?
Basil: Later. Soon. Soon.
Virginia: When?
Basil: Well, I don’t know exactly.
Virginia: Well, I’d better go up and have a look at her. (she gets up and makes to go)
Basil (amazed): What?
Virginia: She sounds ill, Basil.
Basil: She is ill. That’s why we don’t want people going up there and talking to her.
Virginia: I’m not going to talk to her, Basil. I’m going to look at her.
Basil: Look at her? She’s ill, isn’t she? What’s the bloody point of looking at her?
Virginia: I am a nurse, Basil. (she moves off past him)
Basil (to himself): Oh, no! (he rushes after her) I know, I know. I know that. (he leads her back) Did you hear that, everyone, all the years I’ve known old Virginia and she thinks I’ve forgotten she’s a nurse. You’re a marvel, you know that? (he grasps her and kisses her)
Virginia: Please let me go, Basil.
Basil: What?
Virginia: I want to look at Sybil.
Basil: Well, you can’t.
Virginia: Why not?
Basil: Because . . . because . . . you’ve lost weight, haven’t you . . . isn’t that absolutely marvellous.
Polly: Mr. Fawlty, I think you ought to tell them.
Basil: Oh, right . . .
Polly: . . . About the doctor coming this morning.
Basil: He came this morning. First thing.
Virginia: Well, why didn’t you say so?
Polly: . . . He didn’t want to worry you.
Basil: I didn’t want to worry you . . .
Virginia: . . . Is it serious?
Basil: Well, it might be . . . (there is a slight gasp from the others) I mean, not completely serious but slightly serious.
Alice: Oh, Basil.
Basil (bravely): It’s all right, I’d just rather we didn’t . . . you know . . . talk about it.
A pause. Suddenly the atmosphere is jarred by the merry entry of Reg and Kitty.
Reg & Kitty: Hallo everyone. Hallo, Basil.
Basil (with dignity): Hallo, Reg. Hallo, Kitty.
Kitty: Sybil’s not here, is she?
Basil: Er, no, I was just . . .
Kitty (to Reg): There you are, you see. I told you. (to the others) I just saw her in the town.
Roger: What?
Kitty: In her car. In the High Street.
Basil: . . . Oh, no, no, that’s the other woman.
Kitty: What other woman?
Basil: That woman who looks slightly like Sybil. You know her, don’t you? You know?
Virginia: Like Sybil?
Basil: Well, yes . . . very broad. From the North.
Reg: Drives a red Maxi, does she?
Basil: Well, her husband does, I think. I expect she’s borrowed it.
Roger: Perhaps she stole yours, old boy. It’s not out there.
Basil: It’s at the garage, Rog.
Virginia: She looks like Sybil?
Basil: Yes.
Virginia: And she comes from the North?
Basil: Well, she has a Northern accent, you know. I assume she’s from the North.
Virginia: You’ve spoken to her!
Basil: Mmm.
Virginia: What’s her name?
Basil: Well, I don’t know her name, I mean, I only met her once! At a fête.
Virginia: . . . Sorry, Basil, I didn’t mean . . .
Reg: No, no, no, of course. By the way, Basil, where is Sybil?
Basil: She’s in bed.
Kitty: Oh dear.
Basil: Yes, she’s really not well. She really mustn’t see anybody. Now . . .
Reg: What, not at all?
Basil: No.
Kitty: Can’t we just put our heads round the corner?
Basil: No, I’m afraid not. She mustn’t have any excitement.
Reg: Oh, Basil . . .
Basil: What d’you mean, ‘Oh, Basil’?
Arthur: Well, we are her oldest friends, old man. I mean, it can only do her good, and we have all come over here to see you both . . .
Basil: Well, I’m sorry if you’ve been put out . . . (getting worked up) I mean, you’ll have some drinks, p
lenty of nuts, see your old friends, have a few laughs, but if that isn’t good enough, I’ll . . . I’ll refund your petrol for you.
Arthur: No, no.
Reg: Steady on, Basil.
Basil (calming down): Well, I’m sorry . . . but . . .
Virginia: Of course. We understand. You’re a bit upset.
Basil: Well, you know . . .
Reg: Yes, of course. But you know us well enough. You should have called it off. Waited till she’s better.
Basil: I would have done, Reg, but there just wasn’t time, you know.
Roger: . . . Wasn’t time?
Basil (a bit fiercely): She only began to puff up an hour ago.
Roger: You said the doctor came first thing this morning.
Basil: Yes, yes, that’s right. That was for the throat. The puffing up started up after he’d gone, OK?
Virginia: After!?
Basil: Yes, after. Are you taking notes? (to Virginia, who is setting off) Where are you going?
Virginia: I’m going to see her, Basil. (he grabs her and leads her back) But, Basil, there’s something very peculiar about this, and I’m not standing here while an old friend like Sybil . . .
Basil: Look! Look!!! It’s perfectly Sybil! Simple’s not well. She lost her throat and her voice hurt. The doctor came and said it was a bit serious, not a lot, a bit. He went away, she started to puff up, he’s coming back later this afternoon and it’s best for her to be on her own now, what is so peculiar about that?
Roger: Her driving round in the town.
Basil: . . . What did you say?
Roger: Er, no, sorry, just a joke, Bas—can I have another gin, please?
Basil: Just a joke? She’s down there in the town driving around, is that what you think?
Alice: ’Course it isn’t, Basil.
Basil: No, no, no, no, obviously I’ve been standing around here making up crackpot stories about my wife being seriously ill upstairs—is that it, Roger?
Roger: No, no, no, of course not . . . it was just that it was a bit funny, Kitty . . . seeing that Northern woman in the car.
Basil: Funny? . . . Oh, I see, you mean you think that that was Sybil in the car and she’s not upstairs, is that it? Oh, I understand. I’ve got it now. Right, well, what are we all waiting around here for? Come on, everybody upstairs. (he motions them; nobody moves) Come on. All of you.
Alice: No, Basil.
Reg: No, no.
Basil: Come on, everyone who thinks I’m a liar, come on up.
Kitty: No, of course we don’t, Basil.
Basil: Come on.
Arthur: Hang on, old man.
Virginia (kindly): Don’t get like that, Basil.
Basil: Come and see Sybil.
Reg: No, we don’t want to.
Arthur: No, it’d be best to leave her. We’ll see her another time.
