Alan Bennett Plays 1: Forty Years On, Getting On, Habeas Corpus and Enjoy
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A collection of four Alan Bennett plays, with an introduction by the author which describes the background to their writing and performance.
dog took his arsehole From off the nearest hook. The dogs they were so angry For it was very sore To wear another’s arsehole You never wore before And that it is the reason Why a dog will leave its bone To sniff another arsehole In the hope it is his own. FRANKLIN: Get out of my sight, the lot of you, before I strangle you in your own bootlaces. HEADMASTER: Tredgold, keep them under wraps, old chap. Take them behind the fives courts where they can sing to their hearts’
site at the cross-roads of the world. At present on offer to European clients. Outlying portions of the estate already disposed of to sitting tenants. Of some historical and period interest. Some alterations and improvements necessary. (The HEADMASTER shakes hands with FRANKLIN. He takes one last look at the school and takes his leave, as FRANKLIN brings the BOYS to their feet and they sing, with full organ accompaniment and descant, the first verse of the Doxology, ‘All People That On Earth Do
think they enjoyed it. WICKSTEED: It was disgusting. (MRS WICKSTEED wears a dashing hat with perky feathers.) MRS WICKSTEED: I think this hat suits me. Of course, it needs someone who can carry it off. You can’t skulk about in a hat like this. CONNIE: (In her cub mistress’s uniform) Has anyone seen my woggle? MRS SWABB: When did you have it last? MRS WICKSTEED: I should look in what is inappropriately in your case called your breast pocket. MRS SWABB: Here’s another picture of Sir
came to be without your trousers. MRS WICKSTEED: Percy, is this true? SIR PERCY: No. Yes. President of the BMA, physician to the Queen: I can have any girl I want. MRS WICKSTEED: Connie. Come here this minute. (connie enters, but without her appliance.) CONNIE: Yes, Muriel. MRS WICKSTEED: Don’t Muriel me, you minx. You seem to have been busy this afternoon. Now Percy. Is this the lady? SIR PERCY: In some respects, yes. But what has happened to her urgent young body? I have been
in. So out, madam. Now. Come on. This is my house. It’s my right. (MS CRAIG doesn’t move.) MAM: Go on, love. If Dad thinks it’s best you go. (No response.) For our sakes! You know what he’s like. Dad knows best. It’s not just him. We’d both like you to go. We’ve talked it over. DAD: Not like. No like about it. I’ve told you. Get out. And take your notebook with you. (He picks us MS CRAIG’s handbag and hands it to her.) We’re fed up of being scrutinized. Condescended to. Criticized implicitly.