Original subtitles

I'll get Adams to write it.

I don't know. He had a funny look on his face.

He always does.

All right, gentlemen,

let's get on with it.

Which of us will write our Declaration of Independence?

Mr. Adams, I say you should write it

To your legal mind and brilliance we defer

Is that so? Well, if I'm the one to do it

They'll run their quill pens through it

I'm obnoxious and disliked You know that, sir

Yes, I know

But I say you should write it, Franklin, yes you

Hell no!

Yes, you, Dr. Franklin, you

But... You!

But...

Mr. Adams, but, Mr. Adams

The things I write are only light extemporanea

I won't put politics on paper, it's a mania

So I refuse to use the pen in Pennsylvania

Pennsylvania

Refuse to use the pen

Mr. Sherman, I say you should write it

You are never controversial as it were

That is true

Whereas if I'm the one to do it

They'll run their quill pens through it

I'm obnoxious and disliked You know that, sir

Yes, I do

So I say you should write it, Roger, yes, you

Good heavens, no

Yes, you, Roger Sherman

You! But...

Mr. Adams, but, Mr. Adams

I cannot write with any style or proper etiquette

I don't know a participle from a predicate

I am just a simple cobbler from Connecticut

Connecticut

A simple cobbler, he

Ah.

Mr. Livingston, maybe you should write it

You have many friends and you're a diplomat

Oh, that word

Whereas if I'm the one to do it

They'll run their quill pens through it

He's obnoxious and disliked Did you know that?

I hadn't heard

So I say you should write it, Robert, yes, you

Not me, Johnny

Yes, you, Robert Livingston

You! But...

Mr. Adams, dear Mr. Adams

I've been presented with a new son by the noble stork

So I am going home to celebrate and pop the cork

With all the Livingstons together back in old New York

New York

Livingston's going to pop a cork

Mr. Adams

Leave me alone

Mr. Jefferson... Mr. Adams, I beg of you.

I've not seen my wife these past six months.

"And we solemnly declare that we will preserve our liberties,

"being with one mind resolved to die free men rather than to live slaves."

Thomas Jefferson, "On the Necessity of Taking Up Arms," 1775.

Magnificent.

You write 10 times better than any man in Congress,

including me.

For a man of only 33 years,

you possess a happy talent for composition

and a remarkable felicity of expression.

Now, then, sir. Will you be a patriot

or a lover?

A lover.

No.

But I burn, Mr. A.

So do I, Mr. J.

You? You do?

John. Who'd have thought it?

Mr. Jefferson

Dear Mr. Jefferson

I'm only 41, I still have my virility

And I can romp through Cupid's grove with great agility

But life is more than sexual combustibility

Jefferson, stop right there.

'Bustability

Combustibili...

Quiet!

Now, you'll write it, Mr. J.

Who will make me, Mr. A.?

I.

You?

Yes.

How?

By physical force, if necessary.

It's your duty, damn it. Your duty!

Mr. Adams

Damn you, Mr. Adams

You're obnoxious and disliked

That cannot be denied

Once again you stand between me and my lovely bride

Lovely bride

Oh, Mr. Adams, you are driving me to homicide

Jefferson, stop right there!

Homicide

Homicide

Quiet!

The decision is yours, Mr. Jefferson.

Do as you like with it.

We may see murder yet

Damn the man.

God damn the man.

Sorry.

Pardon me, sir. Step aside. Step aside.

How are you? Franklin.

Jefferson!

What is that racket?

Latest thing from Europe, John. It's called music.

I came here hoping to hear a pen scratching, not a bow.

Jefferson! I know you're in there!

Ah! Jefferson, are you finished?

Well, is it written yet?

Well, you've had a whole week, man.

Is it done?

Can I see it?

"There comes a time in the lives of men when it becomes necessary

"to advance from that subordination

"in which they have hitherto..."

This is terrible.

Where's the rest of it?

Do you mean to say that it is not yet finished?

No, sir.

I mean to say that it's not yet begun.

Good God!

A whole week.

The entire Earth was created in a week.

Someday you must tell me how you did it.

Disgusting.

Look at him, Franklin.

Virginia's most famous lover.

Virginia abstains.

Well, cheer up, Jefferson.

Get out of the dumps. It'll come out all right, I assure you.

Now, get back to work.

Franklin, tell him to get back to work.

I think he's asleep.

Wake up, Franklin!

Hello! And whose little girl are you?

John, who is she?

His wife.

I hope.

What makes you think so?

Because I sent for her.

You what?

Well, it simply occurred to me that

the sooner his problem was solved,

the sooner our problem is solved.

That's good thinking, John. Good thinking.

Madam, may I present myself? John Adams.

Adams.

John Adams.

Oh, and Dr. Franklin.

The inventor of the stove.

Jefferson, kindly present me to your wife.

She is your wife, isn't she?

Well, of course she is. Look at the way they fit.

Come along, John, come along.

Franklin, where are you going?

Come along, John.

Come along where? There's work to be done.

Obviously.

Good God. You don't mean to say that...

I mean, they're not going to...

In the middle of the afternoon?

Not everybody's from Boston, John.

Incredible.

Well, goodbye, John. Uh... Uh...

Franklin?

Have you eaten? Not yet, but...

I understand the turkey's fresh at Bunch of Grapes.

Well, the fact is I have a rendezvous, John.

I'd ask you along, but talking makes her nervous.

Yes, of course.

Incredible.

Abigail?

I'm very lonely, Abigail.

Are you, John?

As long as you were sending for wives,

why didn't you send for your own?

Oh, now, don't be unreasonable, Abigail.

Now I'm unreasonable.

You must add that to your list.

List?

The catalog of my faults you included in your last letter.

Oh, they were fondly intended, madam.

That I play at cards badly?

A compliment.

That my posture is crooked?

An endearment.

That I read, write and think too much?

An irony.

That I'm pigeon-toed?

Well, now there you have me, Abby.

I'm afraid you are pigeon-toed.

Please. Come to Philadelphia. Please come.

Oh, thank you, John.

I do want to, but you know now it's not possible.

The children have the measles.

So you wrote.

Tom and little Abby.

Only now it's Quincy and Charles.

And it appears the farm here in Braintree is failing, John.

The chickens and the geese have all died.

The apples never survived the late frost.

How do you suppose she managed to get away?

Well, the winters are softer in Virginia.

And their women, John?

Fit for Virginians, madam,

but pale, puny things beside New England girls.

John.

I thank you for that.

Abigail, how goes it with you?

Not well, John. Not at all well.

I live like a nun in a cloister

Solitary, celibate I hate it

And you, John? Ugh!

I live like a monk in an abbey

Ditto, ditto I hate it

Write to me with sentimental effusion

Let me revel in romantic illusion

Do you still smell of vanilla and spring air?

And is my favorite lover's pillow

Still firm and fair?

What was there, John

Still is there, John

Come soon as you can to my cloister

I've forgotten the feel of your hand

Soon, madam, we shall walk in Cupid's grove together

And we'll fondly survey And we'll fondly survey

That promised land That promised land

Till then, till then Till then, till then

I am as I ever was I am as I ever was

And ever shall be And ever shall be

Yours Yours

Saltpeter

John

John?

John! Hmm?

What?

What are you doing down here?

I thought you'd be up there, cracking the whip.

Oh, well, the shutters are still closed.

My word! So they are.

Well, as the French say...

Oh, please, Franklin!

Spare me your bawdy mind first thing in the morning.

Dare we call?

A congressman dares anything.

Go ahead. Me?

Your voice is more piercing.

Oh, John, look at her. Just look at her.

I am.

She's even more magnificent than I remember.

Of course, we didn't see much of her front last night.

Good morrow, madam.

Good morrow.

Is it the habit in Philadelphia for strangers

to shout at ladies from the street?

Not really, but...

And for men of your age it is not only unseemly, it is unsightly.

Uh, excuse me, madam, but we met last evening.

I spoke to no one last evening.

Indeed, you did not.

Nonetheless, we did present ourselves.

This is Mr. John Adams. I'm Dr. Benjamin Franklin.

The inventor of the stove.

Please! I know your names very well, but...

Well, you said you presented yourselves last night?

It's of no matter. Your thoughts were well-taken elsewhere.

Oh.

My husband is not yet up.

Well, then shall we start over again? Won't you join us?

Yes, of course.

Well, no wonder the man couldn't write.