Act I
South Perth Foreshore at 7.15 p.m. Jan 26th (music plays)
CLARA : Mother, I'm baking out here. What can Nigel be doing all this time? I knew we should never have left him to park the car. The fireworks will probably be over by the time he gets here with our stuff.
MRS. FORTESCUE: Now Clara you know your brother is challenged by large crowds.
A BYSTANDER: That’ll be right. This place is packed out. Biggest crowd they’ve had.
CLARA. If he had a bit of initiative, he would have left the drinks with us.
MRS. FORTESCUE. He was only trying to help, poor boy.
CLARA. But we haven’t anything to drink and the heat is unbearable.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Look here he comes.
Nigel comes rushing across the lawn and drops the hamper.
CLARA. Finally. [rummaging] Well, [rummaging] you did bring the prosecco, didn’t you?
NIGEL. Sorry, there's no alcohol allowed along the foreshore.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Oh, Nigel, those rules don’t apply to us.
CLARA. That's ridiculous. What do they expect us to drink in this heat?
NIGEL. I’m telling you they're pretty strict. It was hard enough just finding a place to park then I had to queue while they checked everyone’s bags.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Did you explain who we are?
NIGEL. They laughed at me.
CLARA. I’ll bet you didn't try at all. I knew I should have gone with my friends. They’re in an apartment overlooking the park!
MRS. FORTESCUE. You really are quite soft, the pair of you. Now, we’ve probably got time for Nigel to go back to the car.
NIGEL. It’s too late now. I don’t want to miss the show.
CLARA. What about us? Are we to sit here all evening snacking on our tapas, and nothing to drink with it? You can be a selfish pig Nigel!
NIGEL. Oh, very well: I'll go, I'll go.
[He turns around quickly, but trips over a young woman’s esky. A number of bottles fall out and break.]
ELIZA. Oh! Shit. Yer stupid bugger, I’ve gone and lost half me grog!
NIGEL. I am terribly sorry miss. Let me help with those. [picking up the broken glass] I’ll take the glass over to the waste bin.
[Nigel goes. Eliza picks up an unbroken bottle and opens it]
ELIZA. What’s up with him? Can’t a girl sink a few coldies without some cackhanded Nigel fallin’ all over her.
MRS. FORTESCUE. What did you say? And… how did you know that my son's name was Nigel?
ELIZA. Eh? Yer mean his name really is Nigel? Bugger me who’d of thought it. Anyways he should have been lookin’ where he’s going. Hang on…, if youse ladies are with him, how about you pay me for the busted ones?
CLARA. Do nothing of the sort, mother. The idea!
MRS. FORTESCUE. It’s alright, Clara. Do you have any cash on you?
CLARA. No… I've nothing smaller than a fifty dollar note.
ELIZA. [hopefully] S’allright, I can change a fifty.
MRS. FORTESCUE. [to Clara] Give it to me. [Clara hands her the note]. Now [to Eliza] I apologise for my son. This is for the broken bottles. That should more than cover it.
ELIZA. Ta muchly.
[Eliza takes a long time rummaging for change]
CLARA. Mother! Make her give you the change. They were at most twenty dollars for the lot.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Do be quiet, Clara. [To Eliza]. That’s alright, you can keep the change.
ELIZA. Cheers, big ears.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Now tell me, how did you know my son’s name.
ELIZA. I didn't.
MRS. FORTESCUE.I distinctly heard you call him Nigel. Don't lie to me.
ELIZA. [protesting] No-one’s shittin’ yer. I meant he was a Nigel. You know…. Nigel No Mates! It’s just a manner of speaking and I meant nothin’ by it.
[Eliza sits down beside her esky].
CLARA. Fifty dollars thrown away! Really, mother, you might have spared Nigel that.
[An elderly gentleman walks along the grass and stops by the ladies.]
PICKERING. Such a large crowd… how exciting! Oh, good evening there ladies. It’s a wonderfully balmy night for the show isn’t it.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Oh, it’s rather to warm for us I’m afraid.
PICKERING. It reminds me of my time in the tropics.
MRS. FORTESCUE. I suppose, but personally I find the humidity too much … and there’s not a sign of any sea breeze.
ELIZA. Yea. My old dad sez that’s a sign it's gunna break. Betcha it will chuck it down just as the show starts. [to Pickering] So hows about it, mate? Wanna buy a few coldies for you and yer girlfriend?
PICKERING. Now don't be cheeky, there's a good girl. I don’t want any beer. [Trying his pockets] Anyway, I haven't any change.
ELIZA. I can give change…
PICKERING. Here’s ten dollars, if that's any use to you. Now leave me alone.
ELIZA. [disappointed] Cheers mate.
THE BYSTANDER. [to Eliza] Watch yerself there girl… I’d give him a bottle. There's a bloke here behind writing down every word we're saying. Could be a cop – stands out like dog’s balls. Worse still, he could be… a journo.
[Crowd turns to the man who is taking notes].
ELIZA. What you looking at mate? I ain’t done nothing wrong. Just having a chat with the oldies here. Only offered them a drink… nothing else. [firmly] I'm a nice girl. Strewth, I would never have spoke to him ’cept he look like he needed a drink.
[General hubbub]
ELIZA. Oi, are you still writing? [panicking] Don’t go dobbing me in. You dunno what it would mean. I’ll lose me Centrelink and then I’ll be on the bones of me arse.[cries]
HIGGINS. [coming forward] Alright, alright, nothing to worry about! No-one's reporting on you, you silly girl? What do you take me for?
THE BYSTANDER. Buggered if I know. But he's not a journo, just look at him. He’s mockered up like a shiny arse. [Explaining to Henry] She must have thought you wuz a tin ear.
HIGGINS. [with quick interest] What's a tin ear?
THE BYSTANDER .[inept at definition] It's a… well, it's a telegram [pause] … a dobber, as you might say. What else would you call it? An… informant?
ELIZA. [getting hysterical] Hey gimme a break mate. I never meant nothin’ by it.
HIGGINS. [overbearing but good-humoured] Oh, shush there. Do I look like an informant?
ELIZA. [far from reassured] Then why’re yer writing down what I say? Anyways how do I know what yer writin’ is legit? Show me it. [pause] What's this shit? That isn’t proper writing. Not so’s I can follow it anyhow.
HIGGINS. Well I can. [Reads, reproducing her pronunciation exactly] "So hows about it, mate? Wanna buy a few coldies for you and yer girlfriend?"
ELIZA. [much distressed] Is it because I was taking the piss about the old lady? I was just winding ‘im up. [To Pickering] Oi, mate, don't let him dob me in just for sayin’ that. Fair go! [pretends to cry]
PICKERING. There, there! I wasn’t offended and I’m not going to lodge a complaint. [To Henry] Really, sir, you’ve no need to defend me against harassment from this young lady. Everyone can see that the girl meant no harm.
[the bystanders generally demonstrate against Higgins]
THE BYSTANDER. Yeah. Who is this wanker? Look at his fancy duds. Just a laired up dickhead, that's what he is.
HIGGINS. [turning on him genially] And how are your family in Albany?
THE BYSTANDER. [suspiciously] Wha?? Whatcha say? Who told you my folks came from Albany?
HIGGINS. That’s not the point is it? They did. [To Eliza] And you, young lady, how do you come to be so far south? I can tell you’ve spent most of your life in Balga but it seems you’ve recently moved south of the river, probably… Hamilton Hill, I’d say.
ELIZA. [shocked] Oh yeh, and what of it? [justifying] Me dad’s place wasn't fit for a drover’s dog and when I complained he kicked me out. Now I’m forking out fifty bucks a week for a pokey room in a dodgy hostel. [fake crying] Oh, boo‚ hoo‚ oo
HIGGINS. As far as I am concerned you can live where you like. Just stop that pathetic noise.
PICKERING. [to Eliza] Come, come my dear! He meant nothing by it. You have a right to live wherever you please.
A SARCASTIC BYSTANDER. Yer for sure… Peppy Grove, for instance? Looks like you two tall poppies are really on top of the social housing issue....
ELIZA. [talking very low-spiritedly to herself] Who do they think they are? I'm a nice girl, I am.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER. [to Higgins] Hey mate, if you’re so smart with the accents, betcha can’t tell where I’m from?
HIGGINS. [promptly] Dumbleyung
[Titterings]
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER. [amazed] Well, fuck me with a feather. You know yer stuff you do.
ELIZA. [sense of injury] That’s still no reason to hassle me, is it?
THE BYSTANDER. [to her] Of course it isn’t girl. You don’t need to take any shit from this smart-arse. [To Higgins] Hey mate! What right have you to knock the way we talk? Maybe I should teach you how mind your own beeswax.
SEVERAL BYSTANDERS [encouraged] Yes! Who do you think you are, coming on like that?
ELIZA. He can say what he likes as far as I’m concerned. I don't want no truck with him.
THE BYSTANDER. He’s a figjam for sure. So let’s hear what’s he got to say about the old codger who gave her the tenner?
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER. Yeh! tell him where he come from if you must go big noting yourself.
HIGGINS. Let me think now…. Nedlands, Guildford, New Guinea, and most recently Cape Town.
PICKERING. Well what a trick – he’s right. [Great laughter. Reaction in Henry's favour.] Do you do this for a living? Are you some sort of entertainer?
HIGGINS. I haven’t thought of it like that. But perhaps I should try it.
[music]
[The fireworks start. The crowd disperses.]
ELIZA. [resentful to herself] He's a bloody mongrel that’s what he is, having a go at me like that!
CLARA. [impatiently] Oh mother! Now I can’t see properly. As soon as it started everybody stood up. What a waste of time this was!
HIGGINS. [to himself, hastily making a note] Cottesloe.
CLARA. [indignantly] Please keep your impertinent remarks to yourself?
HIGGINS. Sorry. Did I say that out loud? I didn't mean to. I beg your pardon. By the way, your mother here is from Mount Hawthorn, unmistakeably.
MRS. FORTESCUE. How very curious! Actually, I was brought up in Innaloo, near Mount Hawthorn.
HIGGINS. [uproariously amused] Ha! ha! What an awful name! [To Clara] Excuse me. You wanted a better view, didn’t you?
CLARA. Don't dare speak to me.
MRS. FORTESCUE. Oh, please, please Clara give it a rest. Remember what we spoke about. [to Henry] We would be grateful if you could help us out. It’s our first Skyshow and we weren’t really prepared.
HENRY: Of course, you and your daughter are welcome to use the chairs I set up over here. No-one can obstruct the view from there.
MRS: FORTESCUE: Oh, thank you.
[music builds]
[Fireworks climax and finish.]
MRS. FORTESCUE. Thank goodness it's all over. Now where is Nigel? I for one am not waiting around in this mob any longer than I must. Clara! We’ll just have to find our own way home without him. Come on, quickly now. I am sure I saw a taxi over there.
CLARA. [angrily] Oh, what a drag!
[Mrs Fortescue and Clara leave]
[Eliza sits arranging bottles in her esky.]
ELIZA. [murmurs] Stone me! It’s a tough enough to make an honest living without being harassed by some smart-arse.
PICKERING. [to Henry] How do you do it, if I may ask?
HIGGINS. Simple phonetics. The science of speech. That's my profession, also my hobby. And happy is the man who can make a living by his hobby! As for my little party trick, many people can spot a Sydneysider or a Taswegian by their brogue. I can place any Australian within ten kilometres - two kilometres in Perth. Sometimes within two streets.
ELIZA. Ought to be ashamed of himself, just a stuck-up show pony!
PICKERING. But is there a living in that?
HIGGINS. Oh yes. Quite a reasonable one in fact. We live in the era of the mining magnate. People begin their careers as bogans from Girrawheen and end up as CEOs in Dalkeith. Naturally they want to drop their background, but they give themselves away every time they open their mouths. I teach them cultivated pronunciation so they can blend in with the social elite.
ELIZA. [mumbling] Bleedin’ wanker oughtta pull his head in an’ give an honest battler like me a fair go.
HIGGINS. [explosively] Woman, cease this detestable whinging instantly.
ELIZA. [with feeble defiance] I've a right to say what I like, same as anyone.
HIGGINS. A woman who utters such depressing and disgusting sounds has no right to say anything‚ especially in decent society. Remember that you are a human being with an intellect and the wonderous gift of articulate speech. That your native language is the language of Cate Blanchett and Margaret Throsby. Yet you just sit there, uttering rubbish.
ELIZA. [mutters frustratedly and unintelligibly] Oooo-errr!‚ F-ing‚ … bloody…‚ aaaw, …fer christssakes!
HIGGINS [whipping out his book] Amazing! what a sound! [He writes, then holds out the book and reads, reproducing her vowels exactly] “Oooo-errr!‚ F-ing‚ … bloody…‚ aaaw, …fer christssakes!”
ELIZA. [laughing in spite of herself] Bloody oath!
HIGGINS. [to Pickering] You see this creature with her coarse slang. Such language will keep her in the working poor for the rest of her life. With my training, I could pass her off as a television reporter or a socialite at the finest party. She could probably become. It's the sort of thing I do for cashed up bogans. And on the profits of it I do genuine phonetic studies, as well as curate my collection of Greek art.
PICKERING. How remarkable! What a coincidence! I am actually a student of South African dialects myself, and...
HIGGINS. [eagerly interrupts] Are you? Do you happen to know Doctor Pickering, the author of “Spoken Afrikaans”?
PICKERING. Well I never! As it happens, I am Doctor Pickering. And who are you…?
HIGGINS. Henry Higgins, author of Higgins' Universal Alphabet.
PICKERING. [with enthusiasm] Amazing! I’ve just come from Cape Town to meet you.
HIGGINS. And I was considering going to Cape Town to visit you.
PICKERING. Well how fortunate. Now tell me Professor, where are you working at the moment?
HIGGINS. Oh, I have an office at the University. You should come by tomorrow and we can talk.
PICKERING. I certainly will. As it happens I'm staying at a hotel just over there. If you are free now why don’t you stop by and we can continue our discussions over a drink.
HIGGINS. That sounds like an excellent idea. I’ll follow you over, I just need to collect my things.
ELIZA. [to Pickering] Hey! Last chance to buy me last few bottles, mate. I'm short for me bus fare home.
PICKERING. But I’ve given you ten dollars already and I really haven't got any small change. I'm sorry.
[Pickering goes away].
HIGGINS. [shocked] What a con-artist you are. You said earlier you had change for a fifty. That, plus the ten he gave you is more than enough for a cab fare.
ELIZA. [annoyed] Christ, you’re a clever bugger aren’t you. Hows about you gimme twenny and you can have the lot! Here…
[pulls out bottles]
HIGGINS. Keep your beers. Just take this and be off with you. Be grateful I don’t turn you in to the security guards.
[Higgins throws a handful of notes on the grass and follows Pickering].
ELIZA. [picking up the money] Ah‚ what a wanker‚ ooh! [pause] Aaah‚ hey‚ some fives, ooh! [Picking up several fives] Aaaaaah‚ stone me‚ there’s a twenny! [Picking up a fifty dollar note] Aaaaaaaaaaaah‚ a bleedin’ fifty!!!
[Nigel rushes in]
NIGEL. [to himself] Phew… got back here at last. Hey, where are they? [to Eliza] Oh hi there! Sorry about being such a dill earlier. Do you know what happened to the two ladies who were here with me? I’m supposed to drive them home.
ELIZA. They caught a cab home when the fireworks stopped.
NIGEL. And left me battling through the crowds. Typical!
ELIZA. [with grandeur] No worries, mate. You can take me home instead. And I can pay for the fuel. Its Hammy Hill, just round the corner from the Maccas. Come on… where’d you park? [She grabs his arm and marches off].
NIGEL. Well, I’ll be …!