Writing for Vaudeville Part 79

PHIL: And then before all the crowd, I kissed you so. (He ill.u.s.trates as PAUL enters with ROSE from arbor.)

PAUL: (Seeing PHIL and MRS. SCHUYLER.) Well--(They break apart.) I'm surprised!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Works PHIL around to hide him first, then turns him around to PAUL.) You wouldn't be if you were as used to it as I am.

PAUL: (Aside to PHIL.) What did I tell you to do?

(PHIL seizes MRS. SCHUYLER and runs her into house--she saying: "What's the idea," etc., till off.) (Sunset falls upon scene.)

SONG--PAUL and ROSE--"My Little Persian Rose." (ROSE exits at end of song.)

PAUL: (Left alone.) I won't let her marry him. (A girl pa.s.ses, crying out "Persian Plums--who will buy?")

PAUL: Persian Plums--Mrs. Schuyler said the old Sheik had such a pa.s.sion for them, they might prove his death. Here! Girl--let me have a basket. (Hands her a roll of money.) There! (As he comes down with plums, the girl exits.) But she said whoever was caught sending him any would suffer the penalty of death. (Gets idea and calls off.) Phil--Phil! (Moonlight effect. As PHIL enters, anxiously, PAUL extends the basket of plums to him.)

PHIL: (Taking plums, greedily.) Oh thanks, I was starving--

PAUL: (Stopping him as he is about to eat.) Here--here--they're not for you. Quick--take them to the palace of the old Sheik Abu Mirzah.

PHIL: But I left him asleep in his bed, sir.

PAUL: Well, place them where he'll see them when he wakes, and (ominously) don't let anyone catch you with them, for the country is full of revolutionists and it might mean death.

PHIL: (Trembling.) My death! Is there any other little thing I can do for you?

PAUL: No. (Several pistol shots are heard. PHIL drops plums and starts to run into house. PAUL catches him by the hair--business.) You coward! I'm surprised! Go to the Palace of the Abu Mirzah. (He places basket in PHIL's hands.) Go!

(As PHIL backs off with plums, he b.u.mps into a fierce looking Persian who enters. PHIL starts and has comedy exit. The Persian is the Emir Shahrud, who has disguised himself as DOWLEH the chef.

DOWLEH grinds his teeth at PAUL, who runs off.)

(DOWLEH sneaks over to house mysteriously--sees someone coming, and then runs and hides behind rosebush.)

(Now, moonlight floods scene. MRS. SCHUYLER enters in evening gown with LETTY and BETTY. Waiter enters and sets two tables.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Turn up the lights!

LETTY: Our last night in Persia.

MRS. SCHUYLER: I've ordered my "paflouka" out here. (MRS. SCHUYLER crosses to rosebush and, DOWLER jumps out at her.) Mercy--how you scared me!

DOWLEH: Fatima!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Now, I'm a cigarette!

DOWLEH: You are cruel to me--the n.o.ble Prince of Persia, who just to be near you, disguised himself as a cook.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Prince, I eat your cooking--that's kind enough.

DOWLEH: (Business.) Yes, I love you so that one day I hear a lady say you paint your face--I put a secret poison in her food--she took one taste--in ten seconds, she die.

MRS. SCHUYLER: It serves her right for telling the truth.

DOWLEH: Come! Fly with me!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh Prince, I've flown so much in my days, there isn't another flap left in me. (Throws him off.) Go--serve my "paflouka!"

DOWLEH: You throw me down--very well--I will be revenged. (Grinds his teeth in her ear.) Mmmm-ha!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (With start, holding ear.) He bit me. (The girls come down as DOWLEH goes off b.u.mping into DUDLEY, who enters in dress clothes--he swears at DUDLEY, in Persian and exits.)

DUDLEY: (To MRS. SCHUYLER.) Oh Lena--if it's you that has made him mad, I'd advise you not to taste any of his food again.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Why?

DUDLEY: I just heard _he's_ under suspicion of having put poison in a lady's food, which killed her in ten seconds.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ten seconds! Then it was true. (Waiter enters with "paftouka.") Oh my beautiful paflouka--and it smells so good.

DUDLEY: But Lena--you _daren't touch_ it unless you get someone to try it first.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Will you?

DUDLEY: Excuse me. (She turns to the three--they all decline.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, if heaven would only send some unsuspecting imbecile to taste my paflouka for me--(PHIL backs on from grape arbor--looking to see if he's being followed.) Heaven has sent it hither. (She steps PHIL's way. As he b.u.mps into her, he starts.) h.e.l.lo!

PHIL: (After start.) h.e.l.lo.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Why, what's the matter?

PHIL: Oh, I'm faint--for food.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Aside to others.) Oh, it's a shame to do it. (To PHIL.) How would you like to "paflouka" with me?

PHIL: (After business.) No--before I do anything else, I must eat.

MRS. SCHUYLER: To "paflouka" is to eat.

PHIL: Well--hurry--let's do it.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (To waiter.) Now, Mousta place my "rakoush" before him.

PHIL: (As waiter places soup and roll before him.) Oh, it looks like soup.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Crossing to him.) I always start with something hot.

PHIL: (Takes spoonful.) It is soup! (As he goes for second spoonful, they hold his hand.)

WARNING: Could not break paragraph: MRS. SCHUYLER: (Counting.) One--two--three--four--five--six-- seven--eight--nine--ten--(Looking at him.) How do you feel?