START: Corie: Well . . . how about _that...

START: Corie: Well . . . how about that Mr. “This is going to be a fiasco tonight?” He’s taking her all the way out to New Jersey . . . at two o’clock in the morning . . . That’s what I call “The Complete Gentleman.” (Paul looks at her with disdain, rises and staggers up the stairs into the bedroom.) He hasn’t even given a thought about how he’s going to get home . . . Maybe he’ll sleep over . . . Hey, Paul, do you think . . . ? No, not my mother . . . (Jumps onto couch) Then again anything can happen with the Sheik of Budapest . . . Boy, what a night . . . Hey! I got a plan. Let’s take the bottle of scotch downstairs, ring all the bells and yell “Police” . . . Just to see who comes out of whose apartment . . . (There’s no answer from the bedroom.) Paul? . . . What’s the matter, darling . . . ? Don’t you feel well?

Paul: (Comes out of the bedroom, down the stairs, crossing to closet. He is taking his coat off and is angry.) What a rotten thing to do . . . To your own mother.

[... … …]

END: Paul: Lucky, aren’t we?

Corie: We’re the luckiest people in the whole world.

Paul: I thought you weren’t going to cry.

Corie: Well, I am! I’m going to have the biggest cry I ever had in my life. And I’m going to enjoy it. (Paul drops pencil and pad into case, and buries his head in pillows from the couch.) Because I’m going to cry so loud I’m going to keep you awake all night long. Good night, Paul! . . . I mean, goodbye! (She goes into bedroom and slams the door. We hear her crying in there. Paul angrily slams his attaché case shut, gets up and moves towards the stairs. At this moment, the bedroom door opens and Corie throws out a blanket, sheet and pillow which land at Paul’s feet. Then she slams the door shut again. Again we hear crying from the bedroom. Paul picks them up and glares at the door.)

Paul: (Mimicking Corie) All night long.

For full scene, please see clip or edition cited here: Simon, Neil, Barefoot in the Park, Samuel French, 1992, pp. 59-70.