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(ship horn blowing)

("Let's Fall in Love")

(ship horn blowing)

(ship horn honking)

- And at every cloud that past, in happy freedom by,

but

there were those among us all

who walk with downcast head,

who knew that had each got his due,

they should have died instead.

He had killed

a thing that live

whilst they had killed the dead.

♪ Birds do it ♪

♪ Bees do it ♪

♪ Even educated fleas do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪

♪ In Spain ♪

- Come on quick,

the bus is coming. - All right.

♪ Do it ♪

♪ Lithuanians and Letts do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪

- Don't be dirtying that nice clean bus now

with your elbows. - What?

You have it lovely Bosie.

- I can see myself in it like narcissus.

- You're at it again. - I'm what?

- That stuff you do.

Big words, poetry.

- Oh, uh-huh.

- What did you give them this morning?

- Well, I proposed to give them a treat today.

They may choose any piece they like from my repertoire.

- Come on, it's eight.

Carson will crucify us if you're late.

Hey Alfie?

I've got one request, do us that one.

The dead are dancing with the dead.

- And down the long and silent street,

the dawn with silver-sandaled feet

crept like a frightened girl.

("Let's Fall in Love")

Good morning my dear friends.

- [Bus Patrons] Good morning, Mr. Byrne.

- We caught the tread of dancing feet.

We loitered down the moonlit street.

And stopped beneath the harlot's house

like wire-pulled automatons, slim silhouetted skeletons

went sidling through the slow quadrille.

- I do love this bit about the ciggy.

- And sometimes a horrible marionette came out

to smoke its cigarette.

- Woodbine - Disgusting habit.

(coughing)

- And turning to my love I said,

the dead are dancing with the dead.

The dust is whirling with the dust.

(whistling)

Suddenly the tune went false.

The dancers wearied of the waltz.

The shadow ceased to wheel and wail.

(dramatic instrumental music)

My friends, we have a new face.

Permit me on your behalf to welcome her

into our little circle.

Welcome, my dear, welcome.

Proving once again that nature imitates art.

Miss?

- Rice.

- Miss Rice.

Miss Rice's entrance matches perfectly

the lines of our poem, our little rhyme, listen.

And suddenly the tune went false.

The dancers wearied of the waltz.

The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl,

And down the long and silent street,

the dawn with silver-sandaled feet

crept like a frightened girl.

(bus patrons applauding)

- Fair play to you, Mr. Byrne, Fair play.

(Alfie humming)

- [Radio Announcer] Members say there will be further calls

for the resignations of the Minister for War,

Mr. John Profumo, after allegations

that his relationship with showgirl, Miss Christine Keeler,

met with a serious breech of security.

(trumpeting music)

- Merciful hour!

I couldn't eat that.

Ugh.

- You've had it before, you like it.

It's spaghetti with a bolognese sauce.

- It's not curry, is it?

- Curry's Indian.

The fellas with the turbans.

- Never eating curry again, not after the last time.

- This is Italian.

- Yeah, but they're all darkies to me.

- The Parlettis are Italian, Lily.

The Fuscos, the Capranis.

They buy their vegetables off you.

- Yeah, and look what they do with them!

Jesus.

I suppose I have to eat something

to keep body and soul together.

(music playing on radio)

- Remember this morning, I said I had a feeling?

- Oh yeah, one of your premonitions

- Well, I was right.

Someone I was waiting for, expecting, walked onto the bus,

out of the blue.

A girl.

- A girl!

That is the power of the nine weeks of St. Jude.

A nice girl for you!

- It's not for me.

It's for my play.

- Oh, God!

You're not starting that again, are you?

- If you're talking about "The Importance of Being Earnest".

- I don't know what it was called,

but it's the one you made a complete banjax of anyway.

- I'm not talking about that.

I'm talking about another one.

I intend to stage Oscar Wilde's masterpiece,

"Salome", and I've found my princess.

- "Salome"?

Is that out of the Bible? - Nothing to do with the Bible

or nine weeks on your knees to St. Jude.

It's to do with art.

- Art?

Art has your head put astray.

Mine as well.

Is she a Dublin girl, this girl?

- I don't know.

I haven't really spoken to her yet.

(bus revving)

- Carson! - Hmm?

Excuse me, missus.

- All tickets, please.

(baby crying)

This woman has no ticket.

- Why, Mr. Carson, I must have overlooked this lady.

There you are, ma'am.

- The bus company is not a charity.

If you want to provide free transport for wasters,

that's up to you.

(bell dinging)

But if I come on and find a tinker without a ticket,

I'll put you off the bus, not them.

Mark me now!

(girls screaming)

Get back, get back will yous.

(church bells ringing)

- [Nun] Lovely morning.

- Miss Rice?

- Adele. - Adele.

Will you be in my play?

- Your play?

- We have a drama group, my friends and I.

- On the bus?

- In a theater, (car honking) St. Imelda's.

- Sure, I can't act.

- You're the perfect princess!

- Some princess.

What are you like, Mr. Byrne?

- No, I mean, princess in the play.

Salome.

(horns blaring)

(Bosie tapping)

Coming, coming.

- Get out of the way, you dozy old bollocks, you!

- Is that the one who danced for Herod?

And got the head of John the Baptist on a plate?

- Yeah, yeah, you know it!

- From the penny catechism. - Yeah.

(horns blaring)

Philistines!

Say you'll do it, Miss Rice!

Say you'll be my princess!

- Was she a kind of a belly dancer, Mr. Byrne?

- Yes!

(horn honking)

(pedestrians muttering)

- Well?

- She's not absolutely agreed,

but I'm certain she'll do it.

We begin rehearsals tomorrow.

She'll be perfect.

She is like a dove that has strayed.

She's like a narcissus trembling in the wind.

- You're at it again.

- She is like a silver flower.

- Do you know what I think?

- What, Bosie?

- I think you're soft on her.

(neon sign buzzing) (birds chirping)

- Ah, Alfred!

Something for the sister, sweetbreads,

good for a delicate tum.

- It's not offal I seek, Mr. Carney.

I bring news of the drama.

We're going up again!

(doorbell ringing) - Oh, we're going up, are we?

How did that come about?

- I found a new actress.

- Is that a fact?

- A new female lead.

Walked out of nowhere onto the bus, sat down.

A charming creature.

Perfect for the part. (Billy clears throat)

- Oh, my God, that's great, isn't it?

What do you want, Billy?

- Three of them, Mr. Carney.

- Three of them right.

That's marvelous news.

Oh, great!

So, we're going to restart, are we?

Oh, now, tell me, tell me, tell me, Alfred.

Am I still playing the part of Algernon?

- Ah, the thing is that...

- I'll accept no minor part mind you.

- No fear, Mr. Carney.

You're still the backbone, the guts, the very tripes

of my production.

- You're still my star.

- Ah, God bless you, Alfred.

That's two and six, Billy.

Great.

- Ah, the refreshments?

- Oh, no, no, no, don't worry.

I will provide the ham for the rehearsal sandwiches.

God bless you, Alfred.

(footsteps tapping)

- It is very vulgar to talk about one's business.

Only stockbrokers do that,

and then merely at dinner parties.

(audience applauding)

(trumpeting music)

Bravo!

Magnificent!

Bravo!

- [Passenger] Good morning, Mr. Byrne, lovely morning.

("Let's Fall in Love")

- Good morning, my dear friends.

- [Bus Patrons] Good morning, Mr. Byrne.

- Good morning, Princess Salome.

(bell dinging)

- What's in the sandwiches?

What's in the sandwiches?

- Lettuce and rocket.

- Rabbit food.

My ma puts in beef.

- So young, so carnivorous.

- You're at it again.

- At what, my Bosie?

- That stuff you do.

- What?

- Big words, poetry.

I'm going to find out who this Bosie is.

Better be a bloke.

Yeah?

A regular young fella, know what I mean?

- Will you be in my play?

We're going up again.

Bosie, that's what we say in the theater.

Going up.

But I have a part in it for you, a big part.

- You asked me that the last time and the time before.

You know I can't act.

Anyway, acting's stupid.

The lads would rag the arse off of me if I came on acting.

- Be in my play.

We could dye your hair blond, like an angel.

(Bosie laughing)

- You're weird, you are.

Lettuce and plays and poetry and dyeing my hair.

Here, come on.

Come on.

Carson will crucify us.

(door bell chiming)

- Ah.

Mr. Byrne.

- It's about the hall, Father.

We'd like it for a play.

- Oh, gosh, yes!

Your little drama group.

So you're trying it again this year?

Do you think, will you manage it this time?

- We're quietly confident, Father Kenny.

- And is it the same one?

You've not changed it?

- No, it's another one.

About John the Baptist.

His beheading.

- Oh, well,

it's a biblical theme and that's a good thing,

a fine thing.

I'll get the keys for you.

Isn't there a dance in there somewhere?

Would it be immodest dancing?

Now, the Archbishop is very strong on immodest dancing.

- Nothing immodest, Father Kenny.

It's art.

- Oh, art.

Well, I'll get you the keys.

You might drop off the script some time.

- Well, that's a bold stroke and no mistake, maestro.

Salome.

What put it into your head to do something so exotic

at your time of life?

- This will be my testament.

This will be my coup de grace.

This will be my monument, Birdy.

- And this girl you're on about,

she's going to be Salome, huh?

- [Alfie] Yes.

The Princess Salome.

Her little white hands fluttering like doves,

that fly to their dovecote.

- No fool like an old fool.

And does Carney know?

- Yeah, yeah.

- Have you told him what play you're doing?

Have you told him it's this one?

Salome.

- I've told him we're going up again.

I'll give him the script in good time.

- He's in the Sodality of the Sacred Heart remember.

He might take it bad.

There's all that dancing.

I mean, the Sodality's very down on immodest dancing.

- It's not immodest.

I mean.

Look, dancing is neither modest or immodest.

It's either well done or badly done.

That's all.

- Is that a quote?

- Almost.

I'll give Carney a starring role.

That will mollify him.

- Ah, I see what you're getting at.

- He'll be King Herod.

- They're both butchers, of course.

(electrics buzzing)

Ah, look at this.

This is from the last production.

Mr. Alfred Byrne presents

"The Importance of Being Earnest" by Oscar Wilde,

presented on March the 13th, 1959.

You see, it was a Friday the 13th.

I remember warning you about that at the time.

Friday the 13th.

It's a known theatrical tradition, like Hamlet.

- What are you talking about, Birdy?

- They never go up on a Friday the 13th,

and they never say Hamlet, never.

- It's Macbeth they'd never say.

Look at these names.

Mrs. Brady.

Where is she now?

- Got a new bike.

- Uh, Rudge.

Forsook the route, faithless one.

And Miss Greer.

Miss Greer, gone to the 14B.

And Joe Gunn, look.

Got a job at the Guinness, walks to work.

And Greg Whyte.

- Ah, yeah, Mr. Whyte.

The Reverend Chasuble that was.

- The whited sepulcher, the abomination.

(ominous violin music)

- A Morris Minor was it he got?

- A Standard 10, Birdy, for 30 pieces of silver.

- Ah, must have cost more than that.

- A metaphor!

A metaphor for betrayal.

I made him from nothing.

Raised him to the stars.

The first promotion he gets.

- Off the bus and into a new motorcar.

- A Standard 10.

He shall be seated at the throne.

And the angel of the Lord shall spite him.

He shall be eaten up in one, him and his Standard 10!

(laughing)

Fares, please.

- [Biker] The only problem is, I hope they turn up.

- Yeah, could be a loose connection.

- Will you be in my play, Bosie?

- My name's Robbie!

And I can't act and I can't fix this yoke.

- It could be the rotor.

- The what? - Well, you know, the rotor?

You know, the distributor thingy.

- It's a diesel, Alfie, it's not a bleeding helicopter.

(laughing)

Rudder.

I'm gonna be late!

- Well, why don't you go on to the Pipe

and I'll wait for the breakdown bus.

- Yeah?

- Go on, go.

- Nah.

I can't leave my bus, our bus, no.

- A noble sentiment.

We'll amuse ourselves,

telling stories from the great river of life.

- Now that will be fun.

(soft instrumental music)

If I can produce only one beautiful work of art,

I shall be able

to rob malice of its venom,

cowardice of its sneer

and pluck out the tongue of scorn

by the roots.

If life be

as it surely is

a problem to me,

I am no less a problem to life.

Golden-haired like an angel.

- [Lily] Where you going?

- Out.

- On a date, is it?

Got you.

♪ Say the things we used to say ♪

♪ And make the world go away ♪

♪ I'm sorry if I hurt you ♪

♪ I'll make it up ♪ - Kitty.

♪ Day by day ♪

♪ Just tell me ♪

♪ You still love me ♪

♪ And make the world go away ♪

♪ Make the world go away ♪

♪ Just get it off, off of my shoulder ♪

♪ Say the things we used to say ♪

♪ Only you can make it go away ♪

(speaking in foreign language)

- It's an auspicious start to our little drama, is it not?

The feast of St. Blaise, the protector of throats.

- Our daddy, God rest him,

was devoted to St. Blaise, wasn't he?

- It didn't save him from the cigarettes.

- No.

- So was Mrs. Carney, Lily.

So was Mrs. Carney.

Ah, lovely occasion though, wasn't it?

- Nice ceremony. - Yeah.

- One feels cleansed.

- Clean as a whistle, Mr. Carney.

Not like those poor sinners over in England.

- Are you referring to this scandal, this Profumo affair?

- Yeah.

The cut of them girls.

- Oh, it's a sad case.

Oh, poor creatures.

Taken like the woman in the Bible, in adultery.

There's only one thing worse than adultery.

- That's right, Mr. Carney.

That's very true.

How would that be?

- The unspeakable sin.

The sin committed by

this poor benighted creature, Stephen Ward.

Homo-opathy.

- Oh, that was really good.

Oh, I got it that time, didn't I?

- Remind me again, why it's Salome we're doing, Mr. Byrne.

- If I can only produce...

- Oh yeah, I remember.

- One beautiful work of art.

- Plucking out the tongue of scorn by the roots.

Wasn't that it?

And it's definitely not an excuse for you

to have Miss Rice buck-lepping around in a set of veils

hired from Ging's in Dame Street?

- Certainly not, Birdy.

The thought's unworthy of you.

My commitment is to art.

I certainly hope Miss Rice will dance.

And Robbie will agree to play the part of Jokanaan.

Oh, dear.

- [Woman] Oh, my goodness.

- Recite us that piece again.

If I can only produce.

What? - You ruin the head on it.

- [Birdy] Oh, dear.

- What on earth are you playing at?

Look at that.

You spoiled the whole game.

(soft instrumental music)

- On the panel.

Look on the panel.

Stage manager.

Ah, splendid fellow.

- [Birdy] Now, you sit down.

- First, thank you for coming.

(chuckling)

And second, there are some changes.

The major change is, of course,

that we're putting on Wilde's masterpiece, "Salome",

this time and not, "The Importance of Being Earnest".

Some things I'm happy to say, some things remain the same.

Mr. Christy Bird is still our stage manager.

(actors applauding)

And Mrs. Crowe is our Lord-High-Everything-Else.

(actors applauding)

Now to the cast.

Mr. Carney will be King Herod.

(actors applauding)

And Mrs. Grace will be our handsome Herodias.

(actors applauding)

I'm pleased to say that the Curran twins have agreed

to play First Soldier and Second Soldier.

Mr. Jack. - Phil.

- Mr. Phil, Mr. Jack.

(actors applauding)

I shall be Jokanaan for now.

But I believe that that part will be filled presently.

I confidently expect it.

And now, who will be the Page of Herodias?

Mr. Lally!

(chair squeaking)

(coughing)

Perhaps we'd better make you a Cappadocian.

I'll come back to you.

But the best news of all is

that we have a new star in our little firmament,

a Salome as beautiful and talented

as Oscar Wilde himself would have wished,

Miss Adele Rice.

(actors applauding)

But as she is new to the part and to the theater,

she will observe only at this rehearsal.

Mr. Bird, if you will illuminate the stage, we'll begin.

(electrics popping)

(actors screeching)

(dramatic instrumental music)

- Lily!

Lily! Can you come down here a minute?

Would you mind? - What?

- This?

This is salacious stuff.

- [Lily] What's salacious?

- This play, Salome, that your brother Alfred's putting on.

Listen to this, listen to this.

What shall I do now, Jokanaan?

Neither the floods nor the great waters

can quench my passion.

I was a princess, thou didst scorn me.

I was a virgin and thou didst take my virginity.

- Come on now, this is just (mumbling).

- All right, well come over here and sit down.

It's just nothing but smut.

I couldn't condone a play like that,

let alone take a part in it.

I won't read you any more.

I wouldn't let a decent woman hear half the stuff

that's inside here.

Now, just stay here. I'll get you a nice cordial.

- Oh, yes.

Raspberry, please.

- Raspberry, right.

- Raspberry's very soothing.

Are you all right there?

- Yeah.

- You all right?

- I'm all right.

I'm just shaking, I'm shaking with the,

just reading this stuff.

- Ah, but you're a pioneer, love, in your own rights.

It's a great thing, being a pioneer.

- You think it is?

Ah, there you are.

- Well, I'm not a pioneer now, as such.

Right?

- You know, Lily,

I didn't realize until tonight

what you've been put through.

- Oh, he was very strange from a child.

A solitary boy, you know.

- Uh-huh. - A reader.

- Oh? - Yes.

And you know another thing?

That room of his, do you know,

he never ever unlocks that room.

- There'd be no locks if it was me.

You must always have access.

Without that, you get this kind of stuff.

- And do you know what more?

Do you know what's in his room?

Books.

Hundreds of books under lock and key.

- I don't like the sound of that.

- Mind you, he told me that they were all

about railway trains

- I doubt it. Let me get that out of your way.

You can put your glass down.

- Thank you.

- Railway trains, I doubt that.

- Yeah.

- Bring me the head of John the Baptist indeed.

- All tickets, please.

Well, for once, I can't fault you.

No spongers on board.

The young fella getting better at keeping nix.

Oh, there's a pair of yous in it.

And I have my eye on yous both.

("Let's Fall in Love")

- [Man] The Tetrarch has a somber look.

- [Man] Yes, he has a somber look.

- [Man] He's looking at something.

- He is looking at someone.

- Stop doing that!

- Yes, stop doing.

Where's that?

- Would you stop repeating everything after me?

- I'm not! - You are!

- Calmly, Mr. Flynn, it's in the script.

- [Mr. Flynn] The Tetrarch has a somber look.

- Good morning, - Morning.

- Mr. Ryan.

You are playing various Nazarenes.

- Speaking?

- No, mute, I'm afraid.

But nonetheless important for that.

Hold tight.

(bell dinging)

From where we were.

(girls chattering)

- [Man] The Tetrarch has a somber look.

- [Man] Yes, he has a somber look.

- [Man] Stop doing that.

(dog barking) (train horn honking)

- Mrs. Crowe, would you ever get on to Gings,

the costumiers in Dame Street?

I think there's been some mistake.

- No, no.

No, now, he's changed the locks again.

He does that to thwart me!

- Lily, let me look through that keyhole, will you?

(clock chiming)

My God, look at that.

Look at it.

God, he has to be stopped.

He's the Typhoid Mary of the theater

contaminates all he touches with filth.

I have a key that fits all locks.

I'll find these books of his and have them destroyed.

It's for his own good, Lily, I can assure you that.

And this play he's putting on

I'll have that taken off with all the haste

that Father Kenny, I'm afraid, can muster.

And you as a gesture of sisterly freedom.

Let me get the light.

There you are, now.

Ah, music.

Would you like to hear music? - Lovely

- Ah, that's great.

(record scratching) (soft waltz music)

- Now, do you like that? Now, what I was saying.

We should attempt to keep him out of harm's way.

- Yeah, but you don't mean now, now...

- It's about time, isn't it?

- You don't mean like St. James' Hospital now?

- No, no. I didn't mean to have him committed.

But that's a very good idea.

No, I was talking about marriage, Lily, my dear.

- Marriage?

Alfie?

- You know, the natural state is the married state

for a man of his age, you know.

Like a priest or a widower, maybe.

You know, uh, by rights.

- By rights, Mr. Carney.

Married, and out of the house by rights.

- I wouldn't say out of the house, Lily.

- But I would, Mr. Carney, I would.

Now that's lovely.

Who's that?

- Who is it?

I don't know.

(church bells tolling)

- Excuse me, are you Miss Rice?

- Yes.

- Well, I'm Alfie's sister.

- Mr. Byrne? - Yes.

- From the bus? - Yeah.

- Our director? - Yeah.

Come here.

I just want to have a quick word with you for a minute.

You know, Alfie, he's just crippled with shyness, you know.

So he asked me if I would come down here to ask you

would you like to come and have tea with us tonight?

- He wants me to come to tea?

- Of course he does, a beautiful girl like you.

- Do you know where we live?

- No. - It's just around the corner.

It's James Street.

A butcher's shop called Carney's.

And we live over that, right?

Now, I brought you couple of eggs, love.

'Cause there's no proper feeding in digs, I know that.

And you need a bit of nourishment,

like, a girl on your own.

Don't forget, James Street, butcher's shop tonight.

See you.

- Oh, Lord.

- You must not look at her.

You look too much at her!

- Mr. Lally, would you mind

if we did it just once more?

How pale the princess is.

Never have I seen her so pale.

She is like the shadow of a white rose

in a mirror of silver.

- You must not look at her.

You look too much at her.

- Mr. Lally, a moment.

This is art.

Mr. Lally, you understand, art?

And art never expresses anything, but itself.

- Well, what does that mean, Mr. Byrne?

- It means quieter, Mr. Lally.

Try it once more.

She is like the shadow of a white rose

in a mirror of silver.

- You look too much at her.

You must not look at her.

- Better.

Better.

Much better.

(bag crumbling)

- Now that is a beautiful omelet, Alfred.

It's a great gift to be able to cook.

- Aye.

Where's Carney?

He wasn't at the rehearsal again.

- Sodality night, he's the secretary, you know that.

Did the rehearsals go well?

- Going splendidly. - Great.

What's your first name again, pet?

- Adele. - Adele.

It's a beautiful name, isn't it, Alfred, Adele.

Did you enjoy the rehearsals, love?

- Grand. - Great.

What's this play about anyway?

- It needs spice.

- Is there a nice little love scene in it?

- I don't think you'd call it love, it's.

- Spice, Adele?

- I think love is great.

I think love is lovely.

What part of the country are you from?

- Roscommon.

- Where is that? - Under Shannon.

- Bread?

- A bit of bread, love, yeah.

And eat your omelet.

Made that specially for you.

He's a great cook, you know.

Daddy thought it was very odd.

A man being a good cook.

- Lily. - I think it's wonderful.

I think any girl who finds a man who can cook

is very lucky, you know. - Lily.

- He does all the cooking in this house.

I never have to lift a finger.

- [Alfie] Lily.

(elephants trumpeting)

(bird cawing)

- You don't really want to, do you?

- What?

- Go out with me.

- Course I do.

I enjoy your company.

Oh, look at that.

(chuckling)

(hippo snorting)

- No, no. I mean step out with me,

like your sister said.

- Oh, God, oh what did she say?

- It doesn't matter.

She's trying to fix us up.

(chuckling)

Listen to me, Mr. Byrne.

There's something I wanted to tell you,

but I never got the chance.

You see.

- You have a boy, you have a fella.

- Yes.

You see, you know very little about me, really.

I think you think more of me than I deserve.

- You seem to me perfect, Adele.

And your young fella, are you fond of him?

Young love is a lovely thing.

(chuckling)

Or so I'm told.

Is he here in Dublin?

- No.

No, no, no.

- [Alfie] And what's he called,

this lucky man who's loved by a princess?

- [Adele] John.

- That's a coincidence, John, huh?

He's a very lucky fella, that John of yours.

(seal barking)

- It's all right, it's nothing.

I'm just being stupid.

People are very harsh judges, you know?

- Yeah, well, why should anyone judge you, my princess?

- Oh, I'm far from a princess.

Far from it.

But I know you won't judge me too harsh.

- Judge you, why?

- Oh, come on!

Stop.

What are you like, Mr. Byrne?

I'd invite you in for tea, but.

- Oh, no, no.

- I only have one room and they don't allow guests.

- Yeah, yeah, of course, lodgings.

- Oh, thank you for the zoo.

- Thanks for coming out with me.

- You're very nice.

Mr. Byrne, I hope you're not cross about John.

- No, no.

That's a sort of joy to me.

To know that you love someone

and that they love you in return.

Adele.

The love that dare not speak its name.

Do you know what that is?

- I don't, Mr. Byrne, to be honest.

- Till tomorrow, Princess Salome.

- Till tomorrow, Mr. Byrne.

(children chattering)

(soft instrumental music)

(speaking in foreign language)

- [Man] What's fine that thing of yours is there?

- I'm off, see you.

- We're rehearsing tonight.

Why don't you come and see?

- I'm playing snooker.

- You what?

- I'm playing snooker.

Why don't you come to the snooker?

- [Alfie] We're rehearsing.

- Well, after the rehearsal.

We don't start till all hours.

- Your friends'll rag me.

- Don't mind them.

They rag anyone.

- There is nothing in the world so red as thy mouth.

Let me kiss thy mouth.

- Ah.

That was very good.

Charm.

Grace,

Style.

A very fine Salome.

Now. (clapping)

Second sequence, Herodias.

And Tigellinus, Page of Herodias.

Um.

Page 12 in your versions,

from how these men weary me, Mrs. Grace.

Now, this is ensemble acting.

No waiting for cues.

First Nazarene, will you put that cigarette out?

And principals, you know what's required from you.

And, Mrs. Grace, I want a commanding,

spirited,

flirtatious portrayal.

Where's the Page of Herodias?

Ah, look at there.

On stage, Mr. Lally.

We're ready for you.

- Mr. Byrne, a minute, please, a minute.

I'd be better off saying my lines from down here,

if you don't mind, please, sir.

- But may I inquire why?

- Oh, it's the beating.

- The beating? - Yeah.

- Where, here, there, now, look there.

She strikes the page with her fan.

- Well?

- Well, there's a bit, a bit too much gusto

in the striking, if you see what I mean.

(telephone ringing)

- Mrs. Grace.

- Mr. Byrne.

I think.

(ominous bass music)

- You think what, Mr. Byrne?

- I think what we need here is a break.

(bar patrons chattering) (balls clanging)

(lively instrumental music)

- Poxy.

♪ Guess there's no use in hanging round ♪

- The second time I missed it.

♪ Guess I'll get dressed and do the town ♪

♪ I'll find some crowded avenue ♪

♪ Though it will be empty without you ♪

♪ Can't get used to losing you ♪

♪ No matter what I try to do ♪

♪ Gonna live my whole life through ♪

♪ Loving you ♪

♪ Call up some girl I used to know ♪

- Go on, you can't miss.

♪ After I heard her say hello ♪

Jesus.

(men laughing)

- You're brutal!

- Flukey!

- Robbie, where did you get this fellow?

- Don't mind them, Alfie, you're bleedin' brilliant.

You had 'em all fooled, including me.

Do you want a mineral?

- Yeah. - Two minerals, Gertie.

♪ Can't get use to losing you ♪

♪ No matter what I try to do ♪

♪ Gonna live my whole life through ♪

- Alfie?

♪ Loving you ♪

How come you're on such good form tonight, eh?

- I'm elated, my boy.

The drama's going splendidly.

- You telling me that now? - I do, I do.

Salome's the key.

Miss Rice is splendid.

She's like a dove that has strayed.

- Alfie, she's a funny mot, that one.

Do you know that?

She's deep, she is.

- What do you mean, my own boy?

- I don't know.

She acts innocent. - She is innocent.

She is a virgin.

She has never defiled herself.

She has never abandoned herself to men,

like other goddesses.

- Jesus, is that what you think?

- I do, I do.

- Well, fair play to you, Alfie.

- [Man] Oy, Robbie, we're on!

- Come on, it's our turn again.

(bar patrons chattering)

- Nice ball, Mr. Byrne!

Ah, it's better you're getting.

- Do you ever get lonely, Birdy?

- Ah, yeah, course I do since Mary passed away,

God rest her.

Ah, a man needs a partner, a helpmate.

That's why God made man and woman, do you know?

Do you know what I miss?

The cuddles.

That's the best thing about marriage.

I mean, Mary was a great cook,

and a great ironer of a shirt.

Oh, yeah, I know, I know,

but, but,

best of all...

- Your Mary, she was a big woman.

- Ah, break a bag of ribs she would.

Nothing like it.

That's what you need, a woman to cuddle you.

Stop your mooning around.

Set you to rights.

- I am ready.

Tetrarch.

(Alfie clapping)

- Excellent, Adele!

Good, good.

Oh, ah, Mr. Bird.

- Hey, hey!

- Mr. Byrne, come here a minute, come here, come here.

I want to tell you something.

You have got her completely wrong.

All wrong.

She's not what you think she is at all!

She's a tough cookie.

She's a bad person through and through.

She's a whore, Mr. Byrne.

- Mr. Lally!

- And you are playing her like a nun.

- Oh, you mean Salome?

- And who else?

You don't think I was talking about Miss Rice, do you?

- No, no of course not, no.

But that's just it see.

Now, this is not real life.

I mean, that's Wilde's great achievement,

to take the crude clay of real life

and to transmute it into art.

So, though Salome is a belly dancer,

she's pure as quicksilver is pure.

Do you see?

Wilde had no life aside from art.

Remember that, Mr. Lally.

He lived in the realm of the aesthetic.

He never descended into the sewer.

Mr. Bird!

- Well, that's not what Mr. Carney's saying, Mr. Byrne.

- And for St. Joseph's bursary,

for the education of young clerics,

the sum of three pounds, 10 shillings.

Now, that concludes the financial report.

That's it, then.

The financial report is finished.

- Ah, yes, good, so it is.

So, then, just the minutes then.

- We've done the minutes!

- Oh, yes, so we did, good.

So, it's any other business.

- That's me.

- Oh, yes, Mr. Carney.

- I'd like to draw the Sodality's attention

to the purpose to which St. Imelda's Hall is being put.

- Oh, certainly, Mr. Carney.

- Well, in fact, it's become a house of ill repute,

no more, no less.

- Merciful hour!

- A house of smut, of foul, sexual language,

excessive drinking, violent behavior and immodest dancing.

- When did this happen, Mr. Carney?

- Well, you should know, Father Kenny

since you condoned this behavior.

- I did no such a thing.

You know well I'm as strong on drink and immodest dancing

as the Archbishop himself.

- That's a very strong accusation, Mr. Carney.

- Well, I'm not withdrawing it.

There is a play currently in rehearsal.

- Oh, sure!

That's Alfie Byrne's play.

(laughing)

(banging)

- Oscar Wilde's play, "Salome".

- Yes, and I believe you're in it yourself.

In fact, I'm surprised you're not

down there rehearsing at this minute.

- You wouldn't see me rehearsing a play

with words like this in it.

Wait a minute now, I'll read them out to you.

These are the words in the play here.

Incestuous.

Harlot.

Abominations.

Fornication.

Look at that.

- Fornication?

Bladrick. - What?

- Bladrick.

- Baldrick.

- Oh. - Not Bladrick.

- Second Cappadocian.

Quickly, quickly!

We have a scene to play here.

Fourth Nazarene!

(people chattering)

Birdy, where's Carney?

- He's not coming.

- What?

What do you mean, he's not coming?

- Carney, he's telling people to stay away,

to boycott you.

He's got the Sodality behind him.

They're saying that the play is immoral and immodest

and scurrilous, and I don't know what.

They want to put it out of the hall.

- And me?

What are they saying about me?

- Carney says you're a bad influence.

- Queensbury.

(dramatic bass music)

- What?

- Nothing.

Nothing.

A ghost.

A specter.

A premonition.

And did they.

Did he try to turn you against me?

- Ah, yeah.

I told him to feck off or I'd burst him!

(laughing)

- Ah, Birdy.

My best, my truest friend.

- That's the spirit, Mr. Byrne.

Now, don't let the bastards grind you down!

- Ah, a commendable sentiment,

if a little coarse in the phrasing.

Right, where are we now?

- Here, Mr. Byrne.

- Ah.

Oh, yes, you got what you want and you're not happy, so ah,

what shall I do now?

- What shall I do now, Jokanaan?

Neither the floods, nor the great waters

can quench my passion.

I was a princess

and thou didst.

- Scorn me.

Thou didst scorn me.

(soft instrumental music)

Now, now, now, now, now.

Take your time, Miss Rice.

Neither the floods.

- Neither the floods

nor the great waters

can quench me passion.

I was a princess

and thou didst scorn me.

- This is no good.

- Silence!

I was.

- I.

(sobbing)

- I was a virgin and thou didst take my virginity from me.

Oh Lord.

- She's what, Mr. Carney?

- She's pregnant, Mrs. Taffe.

- [Lily] Merciful hour, who by?

- Who by?

Who by?

That's the $64,000 question!

I got this

from the secretary

of the Sodality in Roscommon.

- Roscommon, that's where she's from!

- Country girls is very lax in their morals.

It's all that loose straw lying around.

- I haven't my glasses with me.

What does it say?

- Well, in the spirit of Christian wariness,

I made a few inquiries and this is what I came up with.

Now she left Roscommon about a month ago

to come up to Dublin, where she found

a suitable niche for herself in that charade

your brother Alfred's putting on.

- Well, then she is not gonna be a suitable mate

for him at all.

- She's not suitable at all.

Mutton dressed as lamb!

- She's a bit young to be mutton!

- Our Christian duty is plain.

We must impart what we know.

We must warn!

- But this is a terrible blow, Mr. Carney.

- Though if you ask me,

she always looked a bit of a slapper.

- Get us another drop of cordial, Mr. Carney,

will you, please?

- Yeah, yeah, oh right.

- Pregnant!

Jesus, Mary and holy St. Joseph!

Give us that.

What are you looking at?

(door bell dinging)

(soft instrumental music)

(church goers muttering)

- In the name of the Father

and the Son and the Holy Ghost, amen.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

Father.

- Yes.

- If, um, a girl, a young lady,

had got pregnant

you know, what would the man, what should?

- Is that you, Mr. Byrne?

- Well, is it? - Yeah, yeah.

- Dear God.

This is a turn-up for the books, no mistaking.

Mr. Byrne, what do you intend to do about it?

What will you do about the child?

- Will you have a bit of sense, Father?

I'm not the father!

And what put it in my head to come here for advice?

I can't think!

(dramatic instrumental music)

- Oh, poor Mr. Byrne.

(swings creaking)

(knocking)

- Well?

- Miss Rice.

Miss Adele Rice.

- She's up on the back landing.

My ma's out.

She wouldn't let you up there,

but I don't mind.

(gentle instrumental music)

(Adele moaning)

- Adele.

(Adele moaning)

Adele.

Are you all right?

- John!

Oh, God!

Oh, John!

Oh!

Oh!

Mr. Byrne?

- [John] Mr. Byrne, who the hell?

- Mr. Byrne!

Mr. Byrne!

Oh Mr. Byrne.

♪ Love letters straight from your heart ♪

♪ Keep us so near ♪

♪ While apart ♪

- [Male] On main street, that's all I do.

♪ I'm not alone ♪

♪ In the night ♪

- That's an awful shake you have there.

Would you like a Woodbine to steady your nerves?

- Yeah, please.

- I find them very soothing.

Are you looking for that chap, Fay?

♪ The name that you sigh ♪

- Very handsome young chap, that.

♪ And, darling, then I read again right from the start ♪

(plates clanging)

♪ Love letters straight from your heart ♪

- I'm sorry.

Stupid, I'll pay of course.

- It's only an old cup got broke.

Be worse if it was your heart.

♪ I'll memorize ♪

♪ Every line ♪

♪ And I'll kiss the name ♪

- Bosie.

♪ That you sign ♪

- Alfie!

Confession.

- I'm not coming.

- What?

Is something wrong with you?

- No.

I'm just not coming.

All that remains is a recollection

of a pleasure

of a luxury

of a regret.

The only way to get rid of temptation

is to yield to it.

(lively instrumental music)

(bar patrons chattering)

♪ Hey, Mambo ♪

♪ Mambo Italiano ♪

♪ Hey, Mambo ♪

♪ Mambo Italiano ♪

♪ Go, go, go ♪

♪ You mixed up Siciliano ♪

♪ All you Calabrese do the mambo like a crazy with a ♪

♪ Hey, Mambo ♪

♪ Don't wanna tarantella ♪

♪ Hey, Mambo ♪

♪ No more mozzarella ♪

♪ Hey, Mambo ♪

♪ Mambo Italiano ♪

♪ Try an enchilada with a fish baccala ♪

♪ Hey, goomba ♪

♪ I love-a how you dance rumba ♪

♪ But take some advice, paisano ♪

♪ Learn how to mambo ♪ ♪ If you gonna be a square ♪

♪ You ain't gonna go nowhere ♪

♪ Hey, Mambo ♪

- Want to what?

A cuddle?

A cuddle.

♪ Hello kess-a-deetch-a you getta happy in the feets a ♪

- Come on, then.

♪ Mambo ♪

♪ Italiano ♪

- He's a queer-looking tulip.

♪ Shake baby shake 'cause I love it when you take me ♪

(Alfie panting)

♪ Mama say stop-a or I'm gonna go to papa ♪

♪ And a hey ja drool you don't a have to go to school ♪

♪ Just make with a beat bambino ♪

♪ It's a like a vino ♪

♪ Kid you good a looking ♪

♪ But you don't know what's cooking till you ♪

♪ Hey, mambo ♪

♪ Mambo Italiano ♪

♪ Hey, mambo ♪

♪ Mambo Italiano ♪

(people scuffling) (Alfie moaning)

♪ Mambo Italiano ♪

♪ That's nice ♪

- That will do now, Kitty.

(soft instrumental music)

- Are you all right?

Are you all right?

- Bosie.

- What did he say?

- Dozy.

- He called you Dozy.

- Dozy.

All right, fella, come on.

Dozy bleeding queer.

You git!

Come on, all the way.

Foley, did you hit him?

- Didn't be arsed, dozy bollocks.

It was the queers robbed him.

They always are.

- There's only one thing for me now absolute humility.

- [Policeman] Oh, we'll see, go on.

Come on.

- Lily, I have a bit of a query,

and you're a very clever woman.

I wonder if you could enlighten me.

Could you tell me what a fondue is?

- A fondue is a dog.

Shih-tzu, fondue, Chinese dog.

Everybody knows that.

- [Mr. Carney] Oh, of course, I knew that, little dog!

- [Lily] Why, has somebody got one?

- Ah, Mrs. Meehan.

Well, into the shop she walks

and she said she wants some meat for the fondue.

- Oh, scraps she's looking for.

Free scraps, you know.

Don't give her any.

- Scrap ends.

Bits of gristle for the exercise of the dog's jaws.

Scrap ends and scrags, you know.

Trotters, gizzards, innards and everything.

- [Lily] I know.

- My God, isn't that Alfie?

- Alfie!

Jesus, Mary and holy St. Joseph,

what's happened to your face?

- I'm all right. - Do you know this man?

- God, he's my brother!

- Of course, we know him. - What happened to your eye?

- Can you take him home, please?

- Alfred, who would have

done this to you? - What's on earth's

happened to him? - Nothing.

- Look at the state you're in. - I did it to myself.

- Who were the perpetrators?

- Well, he's not going to press any charges.

It's the usual thing.

They never do.

Go on, take him home,

will you? - All right.

- [Lily] Come home with us, we'll take him home.

(melancholy instrumental music)

(banging)

- Come on, there's a good fellow, come on.

There's a good dog.

Come on, come on.

Are you all right?

- Huh, oh I'm grand thanks, I'm grand.

- [Dog walker] Come on, come on.

- Missus!

Missus, could you give us a hand?

- Here.

- Thanks, missus, thanks.

- Are you sure you're all right?

Did you slip?

- I jumped.

(laughing)

- Oh, sorry.

- What a funny little man you are.

- I couldn't touch a thing.

- It's your favorite, sweetbreads.

- When I think of where your hands have been.

- That's the point.

They've never been anywhere!

I've never been close enough to anybody

to rub up against them,

let alone lay my hands on them.

The one person

I like,

well, love, damn it,

- Is a fella.

- Yes, Lily.

It's a fella.

- But don't worry, because the very idea that

that I might want

or love him

or even feel special toward him

would be so repulsive to him

that he wouldn't be able to get far enough away from me.

So eat up.

My hands are innocent of affection.

Eat your breakfast.

(footsteps tapping)

(engine revving)

- The love that dare not speak its name, eh?

Well, it dared to speak its name last night

by the looks of it!

- It didn't speak love's name last night.

That was my crime.

- You're lucky you're not in the jail,

like yon fella Stephen Ward!

- I am in prison.

I've been in prison all my life

and the one bird that sang to me from my prison bars

has upped and flown away.

- Oscar Wilde, I suppose.

- Alfred Byrne, I fear.

Where's Robbie Fay?

- Bosie, is it?

Well, Bosie's gone.

- My own boy.

- See, I explained to your own boy, as you call him,

the kind of man you are and the things you do get up to,

and he was off like a shot.

Bang!

Couldn't wait to get away from you.

Aye, it's time.

On your way.

- Mr. Carson.

The love that dares not speak its name.

Do you know what that is?

- I do not and I don't want to.

- Let me tell you.

It's fine.

It's beautiful.

It's the noblest form of affection.

- You can kiss my arse.

- There's nothing unnatural about it.

It's intellectual.

And it exists repeatedly between an older

and a younger man.

And the older man has intellect and the younger man

has all the joy and the hope

and the glamor of life before him.

And that it should be so,

the world doesn't understand.

The world mocks at it.

And, sometimes

puts one in the pillory for it,

Bosie.

(soft instrumental music)

- You must resign.

(speaking in foreign language)

You were caught.

A-ha, everyone on the bus knows this.

(speaking in foreign language)

Yes, the unnatural act.

The sin of Sodom.

Ah, Bird, you're a Sodality member.

- Was.

- How can you allow yourself to be directed by this man?

- Now, why shouldn't I?

- He's a great sinner.

- He's a terrible director.

But I'm staying.

- Mrs. Crowe, how can you stay

in this bed of abominations?

- I don't know what Mr. Byrne has done,

but I know him for a good man.

I will stay.

- [Man] Me, too.

- Thanks, Phil.

- Jack.

- Ah, I'm blessed in my friends.

- Ernie Lally, you at least!

- He has it wrong about her.

All wrong about her, Mr. Carney, and I'm staying.

- You're a bunch of, I'm shocked and surprised.

I don't know what the world's coming to,

but I know what you're coming to, Alfred Byrne, a bad end.

Yeah, a sad, bad end.

(bell dinging)

- Oh, Mr. Carney!

(bus patrons laughing)

- What are you looking at?

- Mr. Byrne.

- Miss Rice.

- I'm so sorry.

I was telling the truth, wasn't I.

When I said I wasn't what you thought I was?

- We've learned

a horrible lesson.

- About me?

- About myself.

- I know.

I've come to say goodbye.

- Goodbye?

- You don't have to go on my account.

- I have to go to England.

- To England, why?

- I need to go for me and the baby.

- Oh, the baby, the baby.

- He's moving already. - The baby.

- Maybe he'll be a dancer like his mother.

- And your fella, John.

He'll be going with you?

- He doesn't love me, Mr. Byrne.

- But,

the other day?

You know, when I saw you?

- That isn't always love, you know.

You're really innocent, aren't you?

- Man of the world, Miss Rice.

- Love's funny, Mr. Byrne.

I hope it comes to you one day.

Anyway.

- Oh, your suitcase.

- Life goes on whatever about art.

I'm sorry about the play.

I'm sorry I can't be your Princess Salome.

Goodbye, Mr. Byrne.

(sobbing) (soft instrumental music)

- And that never would he see his face in weal or woe again.

- There you are.

I came to be in the play.

Where's the actors?

- What have you done to your hair?

- Do you like it?

(laughing)

- My own boy!

I thought you'd gone and left me.

- Ah, don't mind that old shite, Carson.

He had me transferred.

Tried to.

- My own boy.

- None of that now.

I know where you've been.

I don't care what you get up to.

I like you.

You're my pal.

And I know who Bosie was and all.

So, where's this part you've got for me in the play?

- No play.

But, a part?

I have a part for you.

Sit down, my own boy.

Sit down.

Read this for me.

- All right.

Oh, it's that bleeding poetry again!

- Read it, my own boy.

- Like two doomed ships that pass in storm.

Like two doomed ships that pass in storm

we had crossed each other's way,

but we made no sign, we said no word,

we had no word to say.

For we did not meet in the holy night,

but in the shameful day.

(soft piano music)

Shameful?

- Read on, my own boy.

The prison wall was round us both,

two outcast men we were.

- The world had thrust us from its heart

and God from out His care.

And the iron gin that waits for sin

had caught us in its snare.

In debtors' yard the stones are hard,

And the dripping wall is high.

♪ Birds do it ♪

♪ Bees do it ♪

♪ Even educated fleas do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪

♪ In Spain, the best upper sets do it ♪

♪ Lithuanians and Letts do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪

♪ The Dutch in old Amsterdam do it ♪

♪ Not to mention the Finns ♪

♪ Folks in Siam do it ♪

♪ Think of Siamese twins ♪

♪ Some Argentines without means, do it ♪

♪ People say in Boston even beans do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪

♪ Sponges, they say, do it ♪

♪ Oysters down in Oyster Bay do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪

♪ Cold Cape Cod clams against their wish do it ♪

♪ Even lazy jellyfish do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪

♪ Electric eels, I might add, do it ♪

♪ Though it shocks them I know ♪

♪ Why ask if shad do it? ♪

♪ Waiter, bring me shad roe ♪

♪ In shallow shoals English soles do it ♪

♪ Goldfish in the privacy of bowls do it ♪

♪ Let's do it ♪

♪ Let's fall in love ♪