Pausa

Aqui fica este achado, com assinatura do mestre Pinter, para nos rirmos da chuva:

Umbrellas

Two gentlemen in deckchairs on the terrace of a large hotel. Wearing shorts and sunglasses. Sunbathing. They do not move throughout the exchange

A: The weather's too much for me today.
PAUSE
B: Well, you're damn lucky you've got your umbrella.
A: I'm never without it, old boy.
PAUSE
B: I think I'd do well to follow your example.
A: Yes, you would. Means the world to me. I never find myself at a loss. You understand what I mean?
B: You're a shrewd fellow, I'll say that for you.
PAUSE
A: My house is full of umbrellas.
B: You can't have too many.
A: You've never said a truer word, old boy.
PAUSE
B: I haven't got one to bless myself with.
PAUSE
A: Well, I can forsee [sic] a time you'll regret it.
B: I think the time's come, old boy.
A: You can't be too careful, old boy.
PAUSE
B: Well, you've got your feet firmly planted on the earth, there's no doubt about that.
PAUSE
A: I certainly feel secure, old boy.
B: Yes, you know where you stand, all right. You can't take that away from you.
PAUSE
A: You'll find they're a true friend to you, umbrellas.
PAUSE
B: Maybe I'll buy one.
PAUSE
A: Don't come to me. It would be like tearing my heart out, to part with any of mine.
PAUSE
B: You find them handy, eh?
PAUSE
A: Yes ... Oh, yes. When it's raining, particularly.
Blackout

© The estate of Harold Pinter 2011
All rights reserved