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A long time ago, when I wrote this story,
I never used to start work in the mornings
until I had listened to one or another
of the Beethoven quartets all the way through.
The idea behind this
was that if I soaked myself in these very great creative works,
then a little of Beethoven's inspiration
might stick to my own skin or my brain or my fingers,
and come out in what I wrote.
Of course, that never happened.
But one did sit down to work
in a marvelously uplifted state of mind,
which made it a little more difficult
to write absolute bosh.
What you're going to see now
is a musical story that somehow emerged
from this peculiar habit of mine.
[Classical music playing]
Woman calling: Edward!
Lunch is ready.
All right, I'm coming.
What a good fire.
I've decided to clear this corner right out.
I'm sick and tired
of all these brambles and nettles.
Take a day or two.
Just don't overdo it, that's all.
Oh, Louisa, I wish you wouldn't treat me
as if I'm an old man.
A little exercise never did anybody any harm.
Look.
Look.
Good heavens, you silly cat.
What do you think you're doing?
You'll scorch yourself.
Do you know whose this cat is?
Have you seen it before?
Never.
Well, now, you go on home.
There's a good cat. That's it.
Look, it's following us.
Shoo, go home.
Go home, we don't want you.
It's no use, Edward.
Louisa, I'm not having that cat in the house.
I don't like cats in the house.
No, you don't like anything in the house.
What?
You don't like anything--
Go home!
Oh, I think it's a beautiful cat.
Oh, you would.
I hope it stays for a while.
Well, I hope it doesn't.
Anyway, it belongs to someone else.
It can't possibly stay here,
it's obviously lost.
Go home!
Louisa, if that cat
is still hanging around here this afternoon,
you'd better take it to the police.
They'll see that it gets a home.
How did you get in here?
Hmm?
Well, you're an awfully nice cat.
And I do wish I could keep you,
but you know,
I'm not often allowed things that I like, no.
Hmm.
Oh, you darling, what a lot of...
what a lot of bumps you've got on your beautiful face.
Bumps, bumps, bumps.
Oh, darling, you must be very old.
Well...
Oh, dear. No, no, no.
Well, after I've finished playing the piano...
yes, I've got to take you to the police station.
Well, your owners must be frantic with worry.
There.
There.
Now, I hope you like music.
I play every afternoon.
You know, when I was young,
people used to say that I showed promise.
And then I married.
Well, enough said.
Now, we'll start with a little Schumann.
Yes.
[Playing slow tune]
[Meow]
What's the matter? Did I frighten you?
Oh, perhaps you've never heard music before, hmm?
All right, I'm going to try you with something else.
Yes. Ready?
[Playing light classical music]
[Music stops]
[Music resumes]
[Purring]
[Music stops]
Now, am I imagining it,
or did you prefer the Liszt to the Schumann?
Well, that's a slightly vulgar taste,
if I may say so.
No, no, I--
no, I do admit that Liszt can be very charming sometimes.
Yes.
All right, let's see what sort of connoisseur you really are.
I'm going to play you a little Bach.
[Starts playing]
[Music stops]
What...what's wrong?
What's wrong with Johann Sebastian?
What's so special about Franz Liszt?
I don't believe you know anything about music at all.
I think you're a fraud.
All right, I am going to put you to a test.
Let's see how this grabs you, pussycat.
[Music]
[Meow]
[Crash]
[Music stops]
Oh, no.
Oh, no.
[Cat purring]
Oh, no.
Louisa: Edward!
Edward!
Please come quickly!
Something wonderful has happened!
I'm upstairs, dear. I'm up here.
Edward: I am coming.
Edward, something so wonderful has happened.
Now I will try and tell you quietly and calmly,
but you know,
I can hardly breathe for the excitement!
What has happened here?
Oh, please, don't! No, don't touch them.
Leave them exactly as they are.
Louisa, what's the matter with you?
I thought I told you to get rid of the cat.
Yes.
I thought I told you to take it to the police.
Did it do this damage?
Please, don't get worked up,
because what you don't understand
is that something wonderfully exciting
is happening in this house
while you were in the garden.
The cat knocked over the statuettes.
That must have been terribly exciting.
Exactly.
Louisa?
Yes?
Are you quite well?
I'm in robust health.
My dear, dear Louisa,
I realize that we lead a quiet life.
I know that apart from your music
and your cranky ideas,
you have very little to occupy you, but really,
a cat, a stray cat, getting up to mischief
cannot, by the wildest stretch of the imagination,
be called "exciting"!
You're quite right. Quite right, Edward.
I should have described what happened here
this afternoon as... momentous.
Oh, Louisa,
stop this nonsense and make us some tea.
Not until I've told you what's happened.
You've told me.
The cat has broken some very valuable ornaments.
Be quiet. And listen.
Now, uh....
This is no ordinary cat. This is a musical cat.
A musical cat.
Yes.
Well, what does it do, whistle "The Anvil Chorus"?
No.
Edward, I'm deadly serious.
Now, I am not a fanciful woman.
Oh...
I think I can say, not immodestly,
that I'm practical, hard-working,
and down-to-earth.
Down-to-earth? Louisa, what is all that?
Spiritualism, theosophy, reincarnation.
"Be your own guru." Down-to-earth?
Yes, well, I was coming to that now.
I'm a realist.
Huh!
Yes, and that is why I know
that there are certain mysteries in life
that cannot be denied,
or, in some cases, explained.
And I believe that immortality
of the human soul is one such mystery.
What has that got to do with a cat?
And now I will try and tell you
what I think in plain English.
I am listening.
I know you think I'm silly,
but I shall bear your scorn gladly.
Now don't get heroic,
just please come to the point.
Edward, I think that we are at this moment
in the presence of a great immortal soul.
Yes, Louisa. Yes, of course.
Of course.
I believe that this cat is the reincarnation
of the great Hungarian composer...
Franz Liszt.
Oh, no.
[Playing Liszt]
All right, you say the cat
reacted to the music of Franz Liszt twice.
Now, I heard him purr
and saw him walk to you once.
Let's see him do it again.
Certainly not.
He's not a circus performer.
He is one of the world's great composers.
Oh, my dear woman, he is a cat.
He is the reincarnation of Franz Liszt.
Prove it!
I don't need to prove it. I know.
The soul is there,
and that's good enough for me.
Let's see him perform, huh?
Let's see him tell the difference
between his own music and someone else's.
I do believe you're jealous.
Jealous!
Of a miserable, mangy old cat!
Edward, if you're going to be insulting,
the best thing you can do
is to go back to your gardening
and leave the two of us here together in peace.
If you want my honest opinion,
I think you're ill.
I think you need a doctor!
Pay no attention to him, my darling.
Oh, dear, no.
Pay no attention to him, Maestro.
Oh, dear, if only you could talk.
Just think, you knew Beethoven.
Met Mendelssohn and Schubert.
Good grief, you were Wagner's father-in-law.
I'm looking at Wagner's father-in-law.
He wants proof.
Wills, Wills--no, not Wills.
Oh, excuse me.
Milton?
[Indistinct]
F, F, F. Milton.
Ah! F. Milton Willis. The Emerson Foundation Library.
We'll be there and back in half an hour.
Oh, oh, yes, I see.
You're interested in reincarnation.
Well, now, the list is endless.
Epictetus came back as Ralph Waldo Emerson,
Cicero returned as Gladstone,
Alfred the Great came back as Abraham Lincoln,
and Julius Caesar as Teddy Roosevelt.
Yes. Oh, these are proven facts.
Really. Is there anything known
about the famous composer Franz Liszt?
Can't recall.
However, a colleague of mine,
Professor Jameson,
maintains that Beethoven came back
as Louis Armstrong.
I make no comment, but I'm rather doubtful.
Would you excuse me?
Oh, I'm sorry. I beg your pardon.
And what about animals?
I mean, is it possible--
would it be probable for a famous person
to come back in the body of an animal?
I'm afraid I'm not very good about animals.
I have an allergy to fur.
But, yes, there are known cases.
Napoleon Bonaparte came back as an Arabian stallion,
as a gift from Prince Ibn Hassad
to Queen Victoria.
Oh, then, of course,
there's that most celebrated of reincarnations,
Lord Byron.
I thought everyone knew about that.
Yes, Lord Byron returned as a Bengal tiger.
Unfortunately, he was shot on an expedition in 1906,
led by the president
of the Karachi branch of our society.
Ahem.
If one was convinced, Mr. Willis,
of the reincarnation of someone famous
as an animal--
well, say, as a cat, for example--
how would one set about proving it?
Hmm, now this is very interesting.
Yes, yes.
Usually, one would observe a physical resemblance,
however slight.
Hmm.
Let's take the example of Lord Byron and the tiger.
It was found that the tiger was lame.
Well, Lord Byron had a club foot,
so, you see...
Ah.
I can't tell you what the resemblance was
between Bonaparte and the Arabian stallion.
The bumps. Oh, I beg your pardon.
I do beg your pardon.
I could find out if you wanted me to.
Thank you, thank you. You have been so kind.
Anytime, anytime.
You're so kind.
Now perhaps you'd be interested
in some of the work that I've been doing recently
on a very great favorite of mine,
George Washington.
Ah, yes. I can prove 3 reappearances.
First as Mrs. Lincoln, secondly as the poet Whitman,
and third--
third and this is going to really baffle the cynics--
as the Dalai Lama!
Louisa: That's it,
look carefully at that photograph.
Now what do you see? Do you see his warts?
Edward: Yeah.
Well, he was famous for them.
His warts?
Yes.
Yes, his students used to grow
little tufts of hair on their own faces,
didn't they,
to look just like him.
Yes, 5 of them.
Now, feel the cat's face.
Feel the--
Yes. Come on.
Feel it properly.
What do you feel?
Well, sort of bumps.
Exactly.
5 of them, Edward,
in exactly the same places.
Hmm?
Quad erat demonstrandum.
Doesn't prove anything.
I'm afraid, Maestro,
I shall have to put you to a little test.
Now it is well-known
that Liszt admired all of Chopin's works,
except one.
And that was the Scherzo in B-flat Minor.
He called that "The Governess."
"The Governess Scherzo." He hated it.
So what?
Well, Edward, let's just see what happens.
Yes?
Thank you.
[Playing Scherzo]
[Meow]
[Music stops]
Yes, and now some of his own music.
[Playing Liszt]
[Louisa chuckling]
And what have you got to say for yourself now?
I...I must say, it's quite amusing.
Amusing. Yes, amusing.
We've got Franz Liszt staying at our house.
It's the most wonderful thing
that's ever happened!
I shall notify
all the eminent musicians in the world!
They'll think you're mad.
We'll make films,
we'll give television interviews--
I'll have none of this.
Louisa, I absolutely forbid you to stir up
a lot of publicity about such a ridiculous thing!
What?
All right.
Keep the damn animal if you must,
but it'll go no further,
do you understand that, Louisa?
Damn you, Edwa--
For the first time in our lives,
something wonderful happens,
and then you're scared to death
that somebody will laugh at you!
Oh, Louisa, I realize
that this is an awkward time in your life.
My god. You idiot, you pompous idiot,
don't you see that this is something momentous?
I'll not have another word on the subject.
I'll tell you what you will do.
You will go to the kitchen and fix me something to eat.
I'm hungry and I want my dinner.
I'm sorry. I am so sorry.
I did not realize-- Oh, you must be famished.
I'm sorry.
I'll make you something very special.
Very special, my darling,
just for you.
I won't be long.
� La, la, la, la �
� La, la, la, la �
� Maestro �
� Maestro �
� Maestro �
Maestro?
[Door opens and closes]
Where is he?
Who?
You know who.
Oh, the cat. I don't know.
[Running water]
I, uh, built the fire up
so it'll burn all night.
Edward?
I forgot my gloves.
Damn brambles, they'll tear you to pieces.
Maestro!
There's nothing to get worked up about, Louisa.
Louisa, put that down.
Put that down, Louisa.
Put that down!
Louisa--
[Purring]
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