At Long Last Love

[ Orchestra: Overture, Cole Porter Medley ]

Gentleman. Some gentleman.

I wouldn't talk if I were you. That's one thing I am not, thank God.

What? You.

What? You, you big weasel. I'm not you.

Thank you. You have such a way with words.

Don't. What?

Touch the lights.

Oh, yes, I keep forgetting. You love dark rooms.

Yeah? Like a bat.

I'd rather be a bat than a duck.

Hmm. Thought I was a weasel.

You are a weasel and a duck.

Rather intriguing combination, I'd say. What?

Never mind. You're too drunk to follow anything intricate.

Oh, yeah? Where are you going? Home.

To mother. On the next train.

Oh, that's sweet.

All I do is just take a few drinks to unwind from the show...

Unravel, you mean. Come again.

No, I don't believe I will actually. I'm rather bored with the whole thing.

You're bored. Good night.

Why do you think I drink? Good-bye.

Oh, what an exit.

Theatricality, my dear, is your department.

Oh, wait a minute.

I gotta write that down someplace.

"Theatricality, my dear, is your department."

Very clever.

Clever.

With a million neon rainbows burning below me

And a million blazing taxis raising a roar;

Here I... am

Above the town

In my pet pailletted gown

Down in the depths

On the 90th floor

Mmm!

While the crowds at El Morocco punish the parquet;

And at 21, the couples clamor for more

More! More! More!

I'm deserted and depressed

In my regal eagle nest;

Down in the depths

On the 90th floor

When the one you thought you wanted

Wants ms mother

What's the use of swank and cash in the bank galore?

Why, even the janitor's wife

Has a perfectly good love life

And here am I;

Facing tomorrow

Alone in my sorrow

Down in the depths

On the 90th floor

Oh, God.

All right. I'll see you and raise you 40.

That's too damn rich for me. I'm out. Aw, Willie, you're no sport.

I'll see that. And you're a sap.

So am I, I guess. I'm in.

Now it's up to me. That's right, Johnny boy. Cost you 40 to stay in.

I don't know. Don't tell us you're shy suddenly.

Don't be a sore loser, Willie. It's unbecoming.

I don't see what you're so cheerful about. Shh!

This guy's a one-man crash. Shush yourself.

I bet. Yeah, you always do.

All right, here they are. Tens and kings.

Two pair, ace high.

I could've beat that. Yeah, so can I.

Three boys and two little girls. Didn't I tell you I was a sap?

What do you got? None of your business.

Well, Mr. Spanish?

Oh, I'm sorry. Uh-oh. Here it comes.

Okay, save the apologies. Let's see what you have.

Now don't be a sore loser. Two of these.

My girls. And three of these.

- - My goodness.

I'm sorry. I love this guy.

I think we'd better quit- He's been sorry all night.

Before my wife wakes up and shoots me.

I'm tired of being a masochist. Gentlemen.

Hey, I know what you mean. Gentlemen, when my heart is sick, I've got a remedy that does the trick.

You win.

No. Gentlemen. Gentlemen.

Whenever you are blue, I advise you to try my remedy too.

Just say...

Tomorrow

Your trouble will be done tomorrow

Your victory will be won tomorrow

We're all gonna have fun 'cause there ain't gonna be no sorrow;

Tomorrow

That's right. We won't be playing you tomorrow.

Yes, yes, tomorrow

It's all gonna be grand tomorrow

You'll start leading the band tomorrow

We'll live in a new land

I say this to myself in Venice, and here I am.

You should've stayed in Venice. See ya, Murray.

Because there

Ain't gonna be no sorrow tomorrow

Ciao.

Ciao yourself.

- Still low, Harry? -

Nobody wild about Harry? Ooh, ooh, ooh!

Ooh, domani. Eh, domani.

You're sure gonna meet

The one you'll adore

God forbid. I got enough troubles as it is.

Your heart gonna beat as never before

It'll stop.

No, it's all gonna change

From darkness to dawn

Mmm, Barney Google here.

Ah! Why do you squeal and feel so darn bitter?

You'll score like a Yankee hitter;

The Dodgers are winning.

Tomorrow, the season will be spring

Tomorrow, the birds will all sing

Tomorrow, Signor Cupid will be king

So there ain't gonna be no sorrow

Tomorrow

No. Why borrow even a small cup of sorrow?

Instead, get in your head, mio caro.

That there ain't gonna be no sorrow tomorrow

No, no, there ain't gonna be no sorrow

For you and me

Tomorrow

Aah!

What did you say? [ Man ] Quarter to 6:00, Miss Carter.

A quarter of 6:00? In the morning.

It's still dark out. Yes, ma'am, but it's lightenin' up.

I think you should have your watch fixed.

I will, ma'am, just as soon as I get one.

Good mornin'- I mean, good night, Miss Carter.

Good night.

Quarter of 6:00. Better not be quarter of 6:00.

I told that goon to get me back by - Oh!

These are going back.

I told Beth they pinch.

It's like wearing two vises. Vise? Two vise.

So, where did she put that thing?

Oh, no.

It is quarter of 6:00.

I wonder, which is the right life?

The simple or the nightlife?

When, pray, should one rise?

At sunset or at sunrise?

Which should be upper;

My breakfast or my supper?

Which is the right life?

Which?

What?

No. "Which."

If the wood nymph left the park, would Park Avenue excite her?

Would the glowworm trade her spark for the latest Dunhill lighter?

Here's a question I would pose

Tell me which the sweeter smell makes

The aroma of the rose

Or the perfume that Chanel makes?

Or this letter the hotel sent?

Oh

Which is the right life?

The simple or the nightlife?

I don't know. I don't know.

This says we are being thrown out,

so somethin' is wrong.

When, pray, should one rise?

At sunset or at sunrise?

Well, when you figure it out, call me, huh?

Which should be the upper;

My breakfast or my supper?

Which is the right life?

Which-

Beth!

What time is it, Rodney?

6:00, sir.

6300? 6300.

Hmm.

I'm sick of 6:00. Sir?

Why isn't it 7:00 or even 8:00?

Well, it was just 5:00 recently, sir,

and 6:00 does precede 7:00 and 8:00.

I'm sure there's a logic to that somewhere,

but it's just too tiring to think about.

Yes, sir.

After hunting all over for pleasure

With some measure of success

Are you singing to me, sir? No. I was just singing to myself.

Yes, sir. Go right ahead, sir.

I've decided the pace known as rapid

Leads to vapid nothingness

And Fm;

Tired of betting, tired of sporting, tired of flirting, tired of courting

Tired of racing, tired of yachting, tired of loafing

Tired of rotting

Tired of dining, tired of wining Tired of tea-ing

Tired of being tired

fired, '(wed

Oh