7/27/2019 l_eclair Script

1/2

Do my eyes deceive me?

I believe I have just witnessed a most unlikely scene Monsieur Lantin, at the theatre, enjoying himself. And he is

with a woman with the dreariest face I have ever seen!

Why should he be here with this skank, laughing, when its less than a year since his wifes death?

Besides, he never did consider the theatre as entertaining, much less, as an art. I remember him wearing the

saddest, most uncomfortable expression every time he accompanied his dear wife to the theatre. It was almost as if

he was in pain. He thought it juvenile for grown men to play dress-up, hop around the platform and get laughed at.

The actors look utterly foolish that was his greeting the moment we first shook hands. When I told him I played

the part of Viola, he said Shakespeare would have taken his life the moment the actors opened their mouths and

that Twelfth Night was better in his head. I expected better manners from a man of his rank. But then again, men

like him never really think highly of people apart from themselves.

What hypocrite!

There he was tonight, on the fifth row, throwing his head back laughing as we were performing the greatest pun in

our play. He even stood as we took our final bows. I must talk to him. He couldnt have gotten far. The play ended

only ten minutes ago.

Oh, there he is, sending his woman on a cab. At least hes not taking her home.

(pseudo-running, apas ni Lantin)

Monsieur, Monsieur!

Forgive mefor interrupting your night. Im Madame Lclair. I was a friend of your wife.

(Lantin attempts to speak)

Please Sir, this is a monologue. I must be the only person talking.

Anyway, would you mind if we have tea for a while?Theres this beautiful caf across the theatre. Your wife and I

used to have the most delightful conversations over croissants and their most aromatic tea. Here, let me lead the

way.

(sa caf)

That was our favorite spot,(point tahay) the farthest table on the left, beside the window. They call it the Lovers

Table mostly because its quiet and you can have private conversations. But tonight, lets take this one. We are

not, after all, lovers.

ava?(french)How are you? It seems you have quite developed the love for theatre. Your wife was very passionate

about performances like these. Did she ever tell you why? (chuckle) I doubt it, she always said she could never talk

about the theatre with you.

Hmmmm. Shall we order first?

(order)

7/27/2019 l_eclair Script

2/2

Now, where were we? Oh right, why she loved the theatre.

She said it was on her twelfth birthday when she entered the theatre for the first time - a gift from her father. She

had been begging him to go to Paris to see The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. She was very happy that

day.

She fell in love with the theatre almost instantly - the stage, the actors, the ornaments, the costumes, the lights, thesounds, the men who pulled the curtains, everything. Since then, she dreamed of seeing the stories she loved being

performed on stage.

After her father died, she and her mother moved to Paris. She was eighteen and smelled of spring and possessed a

smile that would make any royalty kneel before her. The first thing she did was to go to the theatre. I was playing a

minor role then, milking a cow, but after the play she approached me and said I did a splendid job. A stranger back

then, yet she talked to me like we were old friends. She fascinated me.

The moment I was told to play a major role, I immediately invited her. I played a queen and she told me I looked like

one. She was scrutinizing the jewels I was wearing and for the first time I saw lust in her eyes. The jewels were, of

course, imitation. But she looked at them as if they were the last bucket of water left on earth. That moment made

me believe that she admired them more than she admired the theatre.

I didnt know why, but I had the strongest desire to give her all the jewelries in the world. I wanted to make her

happy. So, when one of my rich suitors gave me a ruby necklace, I gave it to her. She was too modest and good-

natured NOT to take it, but I could see that she wanted it. After a dozen arguments, she finally gave in. From then

on, I gave her the jewelries I got from men who court me. Rich men, they were, but I think they were as shallow as a

puddle. I enjoyed a nice walk with her a billion times more than a night with any of those men.

Monsieur, I dont mean to pry, but do you happen to know if she kept the jewels at all?

They are hers, in all respect, and she was free to do whatever she wanted with them, but since she died a sudden

death, God Bless her Soul, I just want to know if the jewels are still in your possession. They remind me

tremendously of her, you see, and it would be nice to see them even for a while.

(Lantin looking guilty with big droplets of sweat)

(haha end of thinking capacity na.. :D)

Whats the matter? Why are you suddenly so nervous? You did?