Original subtitles

This is a play about a very expensive mink coat.

The original story is quite short,

but I'm such a ridiculously slow writer

that it took me something like 5 months

to get the thing finished,

which is more than 600 working hours.

That probably sounds a bit silly to you,

but in trying to work the plot out properly,

I took so many wrong turnings

and went up so many blind alleys,

I nearly went crazy.

Don't forget, a short-story writer is working in miniature,

and he can't afford to splash his paint all over the canvas.

He has to be extremely precise.

I find it very difficult.

Anyway, see what you think of it.

[Man gargling]

[Humming]

[Inhales deeply]

Ahh.

Huh. It isn't 3 months already, is it?

Mm-hmm.

Good heavens, how time flies.

Seems like yesterday.

What does?

Your last visit to Aunt Maude.

No. It's 3 months.

[Sigh]

Will you be away till Monday?

Yes, the weekend, as usual.

Mm-hmm. You don't think it's too much,

do you, every 3 months?

4 times a year, awful expense.

After all, she is only an aunt.

And very poor. Is that what you mean?

I've nothing to gain.

No, no, no.

Seems a little excessive, that's all--

an aunt, every 3 months, 4 times a year.

I'm very fond of Aunt Maude.

I know.

I'm her only living relative.

I'm all she has, and it's the least I can do.

It's my duty.

Yes, and I admire you for it.

How long is it you've kept it up?

8 years.

8 years, huh? Well, there you are.

I always admired you for your sense of duty.

I wouldn't do it,

not from what you tell me about her.

Poor old Auntie Maude--

84, one room,

bedridden, penniless.

I'm only grateful you don't expect me to come with you.

Oh, I wouldn't do that.

After all, she's not your aunt.

She's mine.

Yeah, quite.

Dearest?

Hmm?

Tonight...

What?

did you brush your teeth?

Mm-hmm.

Good-bye, darling. See you Monday.

Don't work too hard. Bye.

[Car door shuts]

[Engine starts]

[Car leaves]

[Barking]

MAN: Tally ho.

Get it up.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.

[Bugles playing]

You'll have to excuse me. I must be getting back.

I'm a little late as it is.

Ah, yes, Colonel, of course.

Aunt Maude, isn't it?

You bachelors.

Aunt Maude, exactly.

Heh heh. Come on now.

Tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk.

Hup!

Tally ho.

Darling.

I'd almost forgotten how ravishing you looked.

But I do gargle.

With a fluoride mouthwash

twice a week?

Yes. Sometimes more.

And the dental floss?

I even massage my gums.

Mm-hmm.

Well, it must be the brushing.

What's the rule for brushing,

Miss Pulteney?

10 strokes-- that's the rule,

and use the length of the brush to the full.

Teeth have two sides, so it's outer and inner.

5 minutes--that's all-- and you'll end up a winner.

Rinse, please.

Oh, Miss Pulteney, I forgot to say

I will be working late.

Oh, I'd remembered, Mr. Bixby.

I have ordered your sandwiches.

Thank you.

Yes. I want to do some inlays.

Yes, Mr. Bixby.

Excuse me, Mr. Bixby,

but I think the injection is beginning to wear off.

Open wide.

Ungh...

Come along, me darling. Time to wake up.

Oh. What day is it?

Monday.

Oh, no, not already.

Afraid so. How time flies.

Oh, please don't say that.

Seamus will drive you to the airport.

You'll come, too, won't you?

Afraid not. Important business.

Oh.

I don't see how I can wait another 3 months.

Mmm.

[Kisses]

Oh, blimey.

SEAMUS: Madam? I almost forgot.

The Colonel asked me to give you this.

Oh, good heavens.

What an enormous box. What is it?

Was there a message? Did he send a message?

No. No message. Good day.

Oh, thank you.

Huh.

Ooh.

Ohh.

Ooh.

Ohh.

COLONEL, VOICE-OVER: Darling, I once heard you saying

you were fond of mink, so I got you this.

I'm told it's a good one.

Please accept it as a parting gift.

For my own personal reasons,

I shall not be able to see you anymore.

We always said, "Just so long as it lasts and no longer."

Good-bye, my darling.

It's been fun. Good luck.

[Sobs]

COLONEL, VOICE-OVER: P.S.--

In the right-hand pocket of the coat,

you will find an envelope for Customs.

You have nothing to worry about.

The duty is paid.

Duty is paid.

COLONEL, VOICE-OVER: P.P.S.--

Just say that Auntie Maude gave it to you for Christmas.

[Laughs]

Oh...

But Auntie Maude...

could never afford a present like this,

not in a million years.

God, what will I tell Cyril?

I've got to keep this coat.

I've got to. I want to.

I've got to!

[Laughs]

But how will I explain it?

What will I tell Cyril?

MAN: Sorry about this traffic, love.

It's on account of the weather.

Could you please pull over there and wait for me?

I won't be a moment.

[Bell rings]

[Bell rings]

Oh...

Yes?

Uh, hello.

[Chuckles]

Oh, isn't it silly of me?

I've gone and lost my purse.

The banks are all closed now,

and, well, I just have to have some money.

I mean, I simply need some money

to get home.

I feel such a terrible fool.

What you got?

Well, this--

this is really a very valuable coat.

Hmm. How much do you want?

It's mink.

How much do you want?

Oh, not much,

just enough to pay for the taxi.

I'll come back tomorrow and redeem it.

How much?

I feel so stupid.

I mean, if only I had a ring or a watch,

but the fact is, I don't have a thing with me

other than this coat.

Lady, how much do you want?

Money, compris?

�50.

For a taxi?

Still, that's your business.

OK. �50. Name?

Mrs.--

Oh, no, no. Leave that out...

and the address.

You don't have to have a name and address,

do you?

I don't have to, but you know the risk.

You lose this ticket, got no name on it,

you're in trouble. How so?

Anyone can get hold of this ticket,

come in here, and claim the article.

All they've got to do is to give me the ticket,

and I've got to give them the article.

So you better not lose it.

Oh, I'm not going to lose it.

Good heavens, no. It's only till tomorrow.

Yes. Well, have it your own way.

Now, what you want me to put down for a description--

"mink," "fur," what?

No, no. No description, either.

It's not necessary.

Just put the amount--�50.

Lady, I don't want to interfere

in your private life,

but I've been in this game a long time.

Take my advice. Put a description.

What for?

"What for?" she asks.

You may want to sell this ticket sometime.

Now, who's gonna buy it

if they don't know what it is?

No, but I'm not going to sell it.

I'm coming back for the coat tomorrow.

I'm--I'm not broke.

I simply lost my purse.

I'm temporarily embarrassed.

Don't you understand?

Well, it's your coat. "�50."

Tell me something. Hmm?

If I don't have a description

on the ticket, how can I be sure

that you'll give me back this coat

and not something else when I return?

It goes in the books.

But all I've got is a ticket

with a number on it, so in fact,

you could just hand me

any old thing you wanted.

Isn't that so? Look.

Do you want a description, or don't you?

No, no. I trust you.

Right. "�50."

There we are.

[Sigh]

20...40...50.

[Meow]

She don't like fur coats.

Oh, ha ha!

There we are.

Ohh...

I've got a little surprise for you.

You've always said that only Americans

can mix dry martinis.

Well, you just try this.

Perfect.

Yes. It's simply a question of getting the vermouth

to the nearest milligram.

I bought this for measuring.

Darling, how clever of you.

Yes. I thought so.

Go on.

What?

You were saying about Aunt Maude.

Oh, yes.

Uh, I don't think she's well.

She looked awfully frail.

You know, I had the feeling--

I don't know how to explain it,

but I had the feeling I wouldn't see her again.

Nonsense.

Though, 84-- can't complain.

I worked all the weekend--

cast a few inlays, did my accounts.

Oh, now, really, Cyril.

You should let others

do your donkey work for you.

Isn't that Miss Pulteney,

whatever her name is,

supposed to help with your accounts?

Well, you can't expect young people

to work over the weekend.

Ha! No.

There's no sense of duty nowadays.

Darling, I knew there was something

I had to tell you.

Look. I found this.

What is it?

I don't know.

I found it on the seat of my taxi.

It's got a number on it.

I thought it might be a lottery ticket

or something.

You know what this is, don't you?

No, I don't.

It's a pawn ticket. A what?

Pawn ticket--a ticket from a pawnbroker.

That's the name of the shop.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, this might be rather amusing.

Why could it be amusing?

Well, there's no owner's name

and no description of the article.

Well, you know how pawn tickets work, don't you?

No. They sound awfully dull to me.

Well... Tell me over dinner.

Oh, darling, would you set the table, please?

And because there's...

no name and address,

this is now our ticket.

My ticket. I found it.

Well, what's it matter?

Only important thing is that we

are now in a position

to redeem whatever it is

for �50.

Oh, what fun. It could be anything.

Isn't that right, darling?

Absolutely anything.

Yes, but probably a ring or a watch.

Oh, how absolutely thrilling.

Now, just give me back the ticket,

and I'll rush over first thing tomorrow morning

and find out.

No. I think I'd better do that.

Oh, uh...no.

I want to do it myself.

No. I think not.

I'll pick it up on my way to work.

Pawn shop--

no place for a lady.

You're a foreigner, dearest.

You don't know the way

we do these things over here,

and you've no reason to know pawnbrokers,

thank heavens.

You're liable to get cheated.

I wouldn't get cheated. Honestly, I wouldn't.

Give it to me, please.

Rather you didn't handle it, if you don't mind.

One never knows with this sort of thing.

But I found it.

Now whatever it is, it's mine.

Isn't that right?

Yes. Of course it's yours.

There's no need to get so worked up.

Of course, it might be

something entirely masculine--

pocket watch, cuff links.

In that case, you can have it,

but if it's a woman's thing,

I want it myself.

Now, is that agreed?

Agreed. I say, I'll tell you what.

Why don't you come with me?

No. Ha ha!

You're right.

You'll handle it much better than I.

No. You go alone.

Oh, it's going to be much more fun

if I stay behind and wait.

Be sure to telephone

the moment you know what it is. Promise?

Promise.

Oh, Cyril,

isn't it exciting?

[Chuckles]

It's amusing, certainly.

There's no doubt about that.

Darling...

It's all right, Cyril. I brushed.

[Bell rings]

[Bell rings]

[Bell rings]

[Telephone ringing]

Hello? Cyril?

Did you? What is it?

Is it something nice?

Oh, no. Go on, darling. Tell me what it is.

Oh, I can't guess, Cyril. I can't.

Don't be infuriating, Cyril.

Is it for a woman?

Stop keeping me in suspense.

I can't bear it. I can't.

"Something fantastic."

Really?

A necklace?

No.

A diamond ring?

It's not a diamond ring.

"Something you wear"?

Oh, I don't know--

um, a hat?

Oh, for goodness sake, Cyril, tell me what it is.

Oh, no, you don't. I'm not waiting until tonight.

I'm coming down to your office

and get whatever it is now.

[Doorbell rings]

Ooh, oh...

Oh.

Mrs. Bixby, your husband is expecting you.

I'm just off for lunch.

He won't keep you a moment, Mr. Gorman.

[Hums]

[Giggles]

Oh, ho ho ho!

It's in here, so shut your eyes.

Oh, Cyril, don't, please.

Shut your eyes.

Oh, very well.

Stand there. Don't look.

I have to get it out of the cupboard.

Oh, heavens, I'm so excited.

Ah, ha ha ha!

All right. You can look.

I don't dare.

Take a peek.

Mink--real mink.

Feast your eyes on that.

Ohh...

Well, what's the matter, dearest?

Don't you like it?

Hmm?

Is that what the pawnbroker gave you?

Absolutely, in a great, big box.

Quite takes your breath away, doesn't it?

Yes, quite.

Magnificent quality.

Look at the lovely color.

It must be worth at least �200, I think.

Really? Here. Try it on.

Perfect.

It really suits you.

Oh...

Not everyone has mink, my dear.

No.

I'm afraid you mustn't expect a Christmas present.

�50 is rather more than I intended to spend.

I would take you out to lunch to celebrate,

but I'm running rather late.

I have to fit Mr. Gorman's dentures.

Oh, and I shall be home late tonight--

inlays.

9:00, I should think,

perhaps even 10:00.

Now, run along, dearest,

and consider yourself a very lucky woman.

[Pulteney humming]

All right, Mr. Gorman.

[Humming]

Hmm...

Oh...

Ohh...

PULTENEY: Wait for me!

Going down?

Thank you, Mrs. Bixby.