The Mousetrap полностью

EDWARD. Midge, have you changed your mind? Did I—rush you into things just now? (He moves below the sofa.) You don’t want to marry me after all?

MIDGE. No, no—we must keep on with it now. Until all this is over.

EDWARD. What do you mean?

MIDGE. As things are—it’s better you should be engaged to me. Later, we can break it off. (She turns her back to him.)

(EDWARD looks stunned for a moment, then controls himself and speaks in a monotone.)

EDWARD. I see—even for Ainswick—you can’t go through with it.

MIDGE. (Turning) It wouldn’t work, Edward.

EDWARD. No, I suppose you are right. (He turns and faces up Left.) You’d better go. The others will be waiting.

MIDGE. Aren’t you . . . ?

EDWARD. I’ll be along. I’m used to driving alone.

(MIDGE exits up Centre to Left. EDWARD crosses and exits Left. After a few moments, he reenters. He carries a revolver. He closes the door, crosses to the radio and switches it off, moves to the fireplace, picks up MIDGE’s gloves from the mantelpiece and puts them in his pocket. He then moves Left Centre and opens the revolver to see if it is loaded. As he snaps the revolver shut, MIDGE enters up Centre from Left.)

MIDGE. Edward—are you still here?

EDWARD. (Striving to appear natural) Why, Midge, you startled me.

MIDGE. (Moving above the sofa) I came back for my gloves. (She leans over the back of the sofa and looks under the cushions.) I left them somewhere. (She looks towards the mantelpiece and sees the revolver inEDWARD’s hand.) Edward, what are you doing with that revolver?

EDWARD. I thought I might have a shot or two down at the targets.

MIDGE. At the targets? But there’s the inquest.

EDWARD. The inquest, yes, of course. I forgot.

MIDGE. (With a step towards him) Edward—what is it? (She moves in to Right of him.) My God! (She snatches the gun from him, crosses to the mantelpiece.) Give me that revolver—you must be mad. (She puts the revolver on the up-stage end of the mantelpiece.)

(EDWARD sits in the armchair Left Centre.)

(She turns.) How could you? (She kneels down Left of EDWARD.) But why, Edward, but why? Because of Henrietta?

EDWARD. (Surprised) Henrietta? No. That’s all over now.

MIDGE. Why—tell me why?

EDWARD. It’s all so hopeless.

MIDGE. Tell me, darling. Make me understand.

EDWARD. I’m no good, Midge. Never any good. It’s men like Cristow—they’re successful—women admire them. But I . . . Even for Ainswick you couldn’t bring yourself to marry me.

MIDGE. You thought I was marrying you for Ainswick?

EDWARD. Heaven on a plate—but you couldn’t face the prospect of having me thrown in.

MIDGE. That’s not true, that’s not true. Oh, you fool! Don’t you understand? It was you I wanted, not Ainswick. I adore you—I’ve always adored you. I’ve loved you ever since I can remember. I’ve been sick with love for you sometimes.

EDWARD. You love me?

MIDGE. Of course I love you, you darling idiot. When you asked me to marry you I was in heaven.

EDWARD. But then why . . . ?

MIDGE. I was a fool. I got it into my head you were doing it because of the police.

EDWARD. The police?

MIDGE. I thought—perhaps—you’d killed John Cristow.

EDWARD. I . . . ?

MIDGE. For Henrietta—and I thought you’d got engaged to me to throw them off the scent. Oh, I must have been crazy. (She rises.)

EDWARD. (Rising) I can’t say I’m sorry that Cristow is dead—(He crosses to the fireplace) but I should never have dreamed of killing him.

MIDGE. (Moving in to Right of him) I know. I’m a fool. (She lays her head on his chest.) But I was so jealous of Henrietta