Rain in Spain
PICKERING: How is it going, Higgins?
HIGGINS: Dreadfully! I dare say I may have bitten off more than I can chew!
PICKERING: That’s not the Professor Henry Higgins I know! I’ve seen you turn many a sow’s ear into a silk purse.
HIGGINS: Very well, very well. Try it again, Eliza.
ELIZA: In ‘artford, ‘ereford and ‘ampshire, ‘urricanes ‘ardly ever ‘appen.
HIGGINS: No. Again!
ELIZA: In Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen
HIGGINS: Better. Now the other one.
ELIZA: The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.
HIGGINS: No, no, no, no, no! Where does it rain?
ELIZA: In Spain.
HIGGINS: No, not Spain.
PICKERING: Then where?
Higgins pulls out a weather map.
HIGGINS: Here in London! With this cold front coming down from the north, we’ll see winds and heavy downpours starting tonight and lasting well into tomorrow.
PICKERING: I’ll need an umbrella.
HIGGINS: More than an umbrella! There will be gusting winds
ELIZA: I don’t want to be a weather girl! I just wanted to run a flower shop!
HIGGINS: You foolish woman! Flowers can’t exist without rain! How do you not know that?
ELIZA: I’m leaving!
HIGGINS: Oh, really. And just where do you think you’re going?
ELIZA: To Spain!
HIGGINA: And how do you think you’re getting to Spain?
ELIZA: On the plane! The plane!
PICKERING: By Jove, I think she’s got it!