The Count and the Prostitute
THE COUNT: [Stirs, rubs his eyes, sits up quickly, looks about him] Where am I? . . . Oh yes. . . . So I did go home with the woman after all. . . . [Gets up, sees her bed.]There she lies. . . . God, the things that can happen to a man of my age. I haven't the faintest idea, did they carry me up here, I wonder? No. . . . I remember seeing -- I came into the room . . . yes . . . I was still awake then, or had just waked up . . . or . . . is it just that this room reminds me of something? . . . 'pon my soul, yes. . . . I did see it all yesterday. . . . [Looks at his watch.] Yesterday hell! . . . a few hours ago-- But I knew something was bound to happen. . . . I felt it coming. . . . When I began drinking yesterday I felt that . . . but what did happen, anyway? . . . Nothing, maybe. . . . Or did it . . . ? 'Pon my soul . . . since . . . well, for ten years this sort of thing hasn't happened to me, not knowing what. . . . Oh well, the whole point is that I was good and drunk. . . . If only I knew from when on. . . . I do remember perfectly well going into that dive with Louis . . . no, no . . . we left Sacher's together . . . and then, on the way over already. . . . Yes, that's right, I was riding in my car with Louis. . . . What's the use of racking my brains over it, anyway. What's the odds? . . . The main thing is to get out. [Stands up. The lamp shakes.] Oh! [Looks at the sleeping woman.] She sleeps soundly enough. I don't remember a damn thing -- but I'll leave some money on the night-table . . . and beat it. . . . [Stands looking at her for quite a while.] If one didn't know what she was . . . ! [Studies her closely.] I've seen a lot of women that didn't look as virtuous, even in their sleep. 'Pon my soul. . . . Louis would probably say I was philosophizing again, but it's perfectly true. Sleep seems to be a leveler too--like its venerable brother, Death. . . . Hm, I'd just like to know whether . . . no, I would have remembered that . . . no, no, I collapsed on the sofa right away . . . and nothing happened. . . . It's incredible how all women look alike sometimes . . . well, let's move along.