（外文电子版资料）A. Bertram Chandler - Last Day.pdfVIP

Last Day A. Bertram Chandler FADE IN TO DISTANT CHIMING of church clock, to seven slow, solemn strokes. There is a short pause, followed by the subdued creaking of a mattress as the man shifts and stirs in his bed. Then-- JOHN (sleepily). Seven already. And its light. (His voice becomes more alert, a little querulous. ) Why didnt you set the alarm, Evelyn? I wanted to be up early. I wanted to see the sun rise. I wanted... EVELYN (bitterly), I wanted, too. I wanted all kinds of things. I wanted you with me, just ourselves, as long as possible. I wanted you to sleep all through today, all through the night thats coming, so that they couldnt find you and you would miss this craziness. But now (her voice takes on a strained cheerfulness) I suppose you want your breakfast. JOHN (rather surprised, as though the idea is brilliantly novel). Why, yes. EVELYN. In bed? JOHN (surprised and gratified). Thank you, darling. Fade in to sizzling frying pan, then footsteps on stairs, then door opening. EVELYN (still with the same forced gaiety ). There you are, mlud. Sunny side up, two, with crisp bacon. And... JOHN. Mlud. Funny you should say that. Reminds me of something else... EVELYN (sharply). What? JOHN. Trials and things. The Old Bailey. The condemned man ate a hearty breakfast... EVELYN. The condemned man... John, John! There is a crash as of breaking crockery, a sound of a womans sobbing. And-- JOHN. There, darling, there. Dont worry about it. It was a silly joke. Do you suppose Id have made it if it wasnt meant to be a joke? Were no more condemned men than Brown and Alcock, or the Wright brothers. Less so. They had to make up the rules as they went along; we already have a mass of theory and practice to work on. And look--youve broken the teapot. You never liked i