All language subtitles for Brideshead Revisited - S01E07 - The Unseen Hook

I returned to London
in the spring of 1926

for the General Strike.

It had been the topic of Paris.

The French, exultant as always

at the discomfiture
of their former friends,

foretold revolution
and civil war

until I and several friends
in circumstances like my own

came seriously to believe
that our country was in danger

and our duty lay there.

We were joined
by a Belgian futurist

who lived under
the, I think, assumed name

of Jean de Brissac la Motte

and claimed the right
to bear arms

in any battle anywhere
against the lower classes.

Good morning, Father.

Oh, dear.

Well, it's delightful
to see you back so soon.

How long have you been away?

15 months, Father.

Really?

Well, you come at
a very awkward time, you know.

They're having another
of those strikes in two days.

Such a lot of nonsense.

I don't know when
you'll be able to get away.

I wasn't proposing
to get away, Father.

I don't think you understand.

That's the reason I'm here,
the strike.

I see.

I know you've been
living abroad.

Have you now become
a revolutionary?

No, Father.

I was thinking
of delivering food

to places
where they might need it,

that sort of thing.

Well, Mrs. Abel has reported
no shortage in Bayswater.

Are you quite suited
to this operation?

You have no military training.

You have no experience
of mass provisioning.

You seem to be bent on
a most headstrong course.

That's it, gents.

You and you, sir?

Move forward, please,

and report inside.

My deputy's just round the door
taking particulars.

That's it, gents.

No more needed today.

Thank you very much.

Is there absolutely
nothing else?

I've come all the way
from France.

You could try Clapham
and Southwark.

And I did hear yesterday they
were short down at Rotherhithe.

We're chockablock here.

You can come back tomorrow.

Come back tomorrow.

Thank you very much.

Thank you.

All right, here.

Mulcaster!

My God, excellent indeed.

That taught 'em.

Hello, Boy.

Charlesl

Charles Ryder!

Good Lord.

What are you doing here?

Did you see that?

Damn close shave out there.

Bloody Redsl.

What are you in, Charles?

Nothing yet. I can't get in.

They're full up here.

Oh, rubbishl.

Come and join our lot.

Bill Meadows show.

Damn fine crowd.

All good chaps
in the Defence Corps.

Hear.

We do the milk run.

Can I join?

Of course you can.

My dear fellow,
absolutely delighted.

Come and get kitted out.

Come to the office.

I say, who is Bill Meadows?

So I was enrolled
in the Defence Corps.

I took my oath of loyalty
and was given a truncheon.

I'll come up again
this afternoon and sit with her.

I don't mind staying with her
right through.

I'd like to.

Why don't you have a break?

Well, we'll see.

I'll look in anyway.

How's she been?

She slept
for an hour and a half.

She had another injection.

Does she seem in much pain?

Yes.

But I think
she'd rather be conscious.

Have you heard from Charles?

He's definitely back in England.

He was out. I left a message.

Good.

I'll see you later.

- Mr. Mottram's here, milady.
- Thank you, Albert.

I've got the minister outside.
I can't stay.

We're off to the gas depot.

How is she?

Can I go up and see her
for a minute?

She's too ill to see anyone
at the moment, Rex.

Oh.

Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.

I don't know when I'm going to
get the chance to call in again.

Things are getting a bit rough.

I'm on call all night.

If there's any change
in your mother's condition,

telephone me at the home office.

What about Sebastian?

I've got someone
at the foreign office,

and they've begun
to make inquiries.

And?

Don't worry, darling.

It's a busy time.

Give it a day or two.
They'll find him.

Say hello to your mother.

Bye.

Two teas, my dear.

Oh, thank you.

This'll help you through,
Charles.

Cup of tea, love.

If I were you,
I'd take my advice

and avoid the Commercial Road.

From all reports, they're having
a bit of a fracas down there.

I say, did you hear that, chaps?

They're having a bit of a fracas
down the Commercial Road.

Come on. All aboardl.

Come onl

What are you doing tonight?

Nothing in particular. Why?

My sister says
that Nancy Tallboys

is having a bloody great party.

Yes, I heard. You going?

Rather.

Everyone says it's going to be
an absolute riot.

♪ Marching as to war ♪

♪ With the cross of Jesus ♪

♪ Going on before ♪

Mulcaster!

Charles, please save mel.

Please, brother, pleasel.

♪ Red-hot Anna ♪

♪ From Savannah ♪

♪ Boy, that's me ♪

♪ I can love in any manner ♪

♪ Boy, that's me ♪

♪ L know things
that Theda Bara's ♪

♪ Just started to learn ♪

♪ Make my dresses of asbestos ♪

♪ I'm liable to burn ♪

♪ I can make a preacher ♪

♪ Lose his dignity ♪

♪ Oh, red-hot Anna ♪

♪ That's me ♪

Aren't they d-d-divine?

Aren't they
the m-m-most sensational thing

you've ever seen?

Antoinel Good Godl.

That rather p-p-pale one,
my dear,

playing the piano

is having a raving affair
with Mrs. Arnold Frickheimer.

He conked her on the nut
with a b-bottle of milk

only the other m-morning.

It's wonderful to see you again.

It's been a long time.

Oh, I know, Charles.

There you are,
the lonely old artist man,

hidden away from us
in your P-Parisian garret.

But, Charles, look.

Do you see that
b-b-bovine specter that I see?

N-N-No.

They're not animals
in the zoo, Mulcaster,

to be g-g-goggled at.

They are artists, my dear,

v-v-very great artists
to be revered.

Charlesl.

Thank God
there's somebody here I know.

A girl brought me,
but I've lost her.

Looked everywhere.

She's given you the slip,
my dear.

And do you know why?

Because you look ridiculously
out of p-place, Mulcaster.

This isn't
your kind of party at all.

You oughtn't to be here.

You ought to g-g-go away,
you know,

to the Old Hundredth
or some l-l-lugubrious dance

in Belgrave Square.

I've just come from there.

And it's too early
for the Old Hundredth.

No, I think
I'll stick around a bit.

Things may jolly up, you know.

I spit on you.

Puhl.

Let me talk to you, Charles.

You're ridiculousl.

Oh, my dear,
but white pugilistsl

it's such a surprise
seeing you here, Anthony.

I thought you'd still be
wandering in the Middle East.

Excuse us, won't you?

Sorry.

I seem to remember seeing
a rather gruesome photograph

of you and Sebastian
in Constantinople.

Ahl S-S-Sebastian.

Inevitably, we will talk
of Sebastian.

Someone's been sick.
Clear it up.

You'll be perfectly safe.

I want a drink.

There's plenty of drinks
at my house.

Yes, sure,
but I want a drink here.

No, I haven't heard anything
of Sebastian for over a year.

Do you see him?

Oh, my dear. He's such a sot.

You know he came to live with me
in Marseilles last year

when you threw him over?

And, really, it was as much
as I could stand.

Sip, sip, sip.

Like a d-dowager all day long.

And so sly.

I was always missing
little things, my dear,

things I rather liked,
including two very pretty suits.

Of course, I didn't know
it was Sebastian at first.

There were
some rather queer fish, my dear,

in and out
of my little apartment.

But who knows b-better than you
my t-taste for queer fish.

Well, eventually,
I found out that Sebastian

had been p-p-popping them
at the p-pawn shop

and then, my dear,

that he had sold the tickets
at the bistro.

It's never much of a success
when Sebastian stays with you,

is it, Anthony?

Now, Charles,

I know that p-puritanical
d-disapproving look in your eye.

You think I l-lead
the p-poor boy on, don't you?

You did in Athens,
by all accounts.

Hmm, that's one of Sebastian's
less lovable qualities.

He always g-gives the impression
of being led on,

like a little horse at a circus.

So there's still
no stopping him?

My dear,
I did everything I could.

I said to him again and again,
"Why drink?"

if you want to be intoxicated,

there are so many much more
delicious things to do.

Never seen you before.

Never asked you.

Who are all these
white trash anyway?

Seems to me I must have come
to the wrong house.

It's a time of national
emergency, my dear.

Anything may happen.

I think Africa must be deserted.

Never mind.

You and I, Charles,

had a good innings today

defending the old country.

That's the great pity of it,
you know.

You and I are too young
to fight in the war.

Other chaps fought.

Millions of them dead.

Not us.

We showed them today, though.

We showed those dead chaps
we can fight too.

And you came all the way
from Paris.

Damn good. Damn good.

Came from overseas.

Rallying round the country
in her hour of need.

Like the Australians.

Like the poor, dead Australians.

Is the party going well?

Do you think Florence Mills
would sing again?

I know you. We've met before.

Awful, my dear.

But you never asked me tonight.

Perhaps I don't like you.

I thought I liked everyone.

Do you think it might be witty
to give the fire alarm?

Oh, yes, Boy.
Do run away and ring it.

Cheer things up.

Exactly.

You're a very naughty girl,

and you're going to be spankedl.

So then we left Marseilles
and went to Tangier.

And th-there, my dear,

Sebastian took up with
his new friend.

Who's that?

Well, how can I describe him?

He's-he's like the footman
in Warning Shadows,

a great c-clod of a German

who'd been
in the foreign legion.

He got out
by shooting off his b-big toe.

It still hadn't healed.

Where did they meet?

Sebastian found him starving,

touting for one of the houses
in the Casbah,

and brought him back
to stay with us.

It was too macabre.

So back I came
to dear old England, my dear.

So where's Sebastian now?

I think he and his lame chum
went off to French Morocco.

They were in trouble
with the Tangier police

when I left.

Oh.

Lady Marchmain
has been a positive pest

ever since I got back to London,

trying to make me
get in touch with them.

What a time
that poor woman's going through.

Well, it only shows
there's some justice in life.

I've done it.

You see that girl
with that black fella?

That's the girl who brought me.

Oh, she seems to have
f-f-forgotten you now.

Come on, Charles.

I've had enough of all this.

If you'd be good enough
to wait in here, sir,

I'll tell Lady Julia
you've arrived.

Thank you, Wilcox.

I went to Marchmain House
on the first morning of peace.

Julia had telephoned

to say that her mother
was anxious to see me.

I waited for her in the library
overlooking Green Park.

Charles.

It's sweet of you to come.

Mummy's kept asking for you,

but I'm afraid she won't be able
to see you now after all.

She's just said good-bye
to Sir Adrian Porson,

and it's tired her.

Good-bye?

Yes, she's dying.

She may live a week or two,
or she may go at any minute.

She's very frail.

I can tell you what she wanted.

Let's go somewhere else.
I hate this room.

First,
I know Mummy wanted to say

how sorry she is
she was so beastly to you

last time you met.

She's spoken of it often.

She knows now she was wrong
about you.

I'm quite sure you put it
out of your mind immediately

and understood,

but it's the sort of thing
Mummy can never forgive herself.

It's the sort of thing
she so seldom did.

Please tell her I do understand.

The other thing, of course,
you've guessed.

Sebastian.

She wants him.

I don't know if that's possible.
Is it?

Well, I hear
he's in a pretty bad way.

We heard that too.

We sent a cable
to the last address we had,

but there was no answer.

There still may be time
for him to see her.

I thought of you
as the only hope

as soon as I heard
you were in England.

Will you try and get him?

It's an awful lot to ask,
I know,

but I think Sebastian
would want it too, if he knew.

I'll try.

I'll certainly try.

There's no one else
we could ask.

Rex is so busy.

Yes.

I heard reports
of all he's been doing,

organizing the gas works.

Oh, yes.

He's made a lot of kudos
out of the strike.

Needless to say,

Bridey has stayed very aloof
from it all.

- Oh?
- You can guess, can't you?

He says he's not satisfied
with the justice of the cause.

Thank you.

I'm very sorry
to have missed Cordelia.

I sent her up to bed.

She was up all night with Mummy.

Will you give her my love?

Good-bye, Charles.

Good-bye, Julia.

And thank you.

I'll telegraph
if I have any news.

Air France ran a service
of a kind to Casablanca.

There, starting at dawn,

I had taken the bus to Fez.

I had telephoned
to the British consul

and arranged to have lunch
on my arrival.

There's a war going on
not 30 miles from this house,

though you might not think it.

Yes, I had heard,

but it's difficult to believe
sitting here.

We had some young fools
on bicycles only last week

who'd come to volunteer
for the Abdul's army.

It sounds as if you've got
a pretty tricky situation.

The Moors are a tricky lot.

They don't hold with drink,

and our young friend,
as you may know,

spends most his day drinking.

Sign there, will you?

Of course.

What does he want
to come here for?

There's plenty of room for him
in Rabat or Tangier

where they cater to tourists.

He's taken a house
in the native town, you know.

I tried to stop him,

but he got it from a Frenchman
in the Department of Arts.

I don't say
there's any harm in him,

but he's an anxiety.

The French
don't understand him at all.

They think that anyone
who's not engaged in trade

is a spy.

It's not as though
he lives like a milord.

Did you know there's someone
living with him?

Someone sponging on him?

Yes, I had heard about someone.

Whether this is the same person-

- Such an awful fellow,

a German out of
the Foreign Legion,

a thoroughly bad lot
by all accounts.

Bound to be trouble.

Mind you, I like Flyte.

I don't see much of him.

He used to come here
for baths twice a week

before he got fixed up
at his house.

He was always
perfectly charming.

My wife took a great fancy
to him.

What he needs is an occupation.

Well, if I can persuade him
to come back to England,

I'll get him off your hands.

In fact, sir, I think I should
really be getting along now.

Oh, yes, of course.

You'll probably find him
at home now.

Goodness knows no one goes out
much in the siesta.

Look, if you like,

I'll send the porter
to show you the way.

Morocco was a new
and strange country to me.

Now in the walled city

where the dust lay thick
among the smooth paving stones,

where the air was scented

with cloves and incense
and wood smoke,

I knew what had drawn
Sebastian here

and held him so long.

My guide was
from the Sudan police

and regarded this ancient center
of his culture

as a New Zealander
might regard Rome.

Very dirty people.

No education.

French leave them dirty.

Not like British peoples.

My people is British peoples.

Me in Sudan police.

House of British lord.

You go with this native fellow.

Thank you very much.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for Sebastian Flyte.

This is his house, is it not?

Yes.

But he's not here.

There's no one but me.

I've come from England
to see him

on rather important business.

I wonder, could you tell me
when he'll be back?

Sebastian's sick.

The brothers took him away
to the infirmary.

Maybe they'll let you see him.

Maybe not.

I got to go there myself
one day soon

to get my foot dressed.

I'll ask them.

When he's better,

maybe they'll let you see him.

Beer?

Thank you.

You're not Sebastian's brother?

His cousin maybe?

I think maybe
you married his sister.

No. We're just friends.

We were at university together.

I had a friend
at the university.

He studied history.

My friend was cleverer than l.

A little weak fellow.

I would pick him up
and shake him when I was angry

but so clever.

Then one day, we said,

"What the hell?

"There's no work in Germany.

"Germany is down the drain.

We must be soldiers."

So we joined the Legion.

My friend died of dysentery
last year

campaigning in the Atlas.

When he was dead,

I said,

"What the hell?"

So I shot my foot!

It is now full of pus,

though I have done it one year.

Yes. That's very interesting.

But my immediate concern
is with Sebastian.

I wonder if you could tell me
something about him.

Well, he's a very good fellow,
Sebastian.

He is all right for me.

Tangier was a stinking place.

He brought me here.

Nice house,
nice food, nice servant.

Everything is all right
for me here, I reckon.

I like it all right.

Sebastian-

his mother's very ill.

That's what I've come
to tell him.

She rich?

She is.

Then why don't she
give him more money?

Then we could live
at Casablanca maybe,

in a nice flat.

You know her well?

You could make her
give him more money.

What exactly is the matter
with Sebastian?

I don't know.

I reckon maybe
he drink too much.

The brothers
will look after him.

It is all right for him there.

The brothers are good fellows.

Very cheap there.

Encore de biere.

You see?

A nice servant to look after me.

It is all right.

I think I'd better see
Sebastian straightaway.

Could you tell me
where I can find him?

Which hospital is he at?

It's the little one
between the old and new town.

It's called St. Sulpice.

Tell Sebastian...

I am still here

and all right.

I reckon he's worrying
about me, maybe.

- Good evening.
- Bonsoir.

Your friend Lord Flyte
is much better.

En français.

Ah, merci.

Votre ami n'est pas en danger

mais il n'est absolument
pas en etat de voyager.

He spoke in French

and to tell me that Sebastian
was in no danger

but quite unfit to travel.

He had the grippe,

with one lung slightly affected.

He was very weak.

He lacked resistance.

What could one expect?

He was an alcoholic.

Qu'est-ce que vous
voulez dire, Doctor?

C'est un alcoolique.

Un grand alcoolique.

Je vais vous trouver quelqu'un
pour vous amener pres de lui.

The doctor spoke
dispassionately,

almost brutally,

with the relish men of science
sometimes have

for limiting themselves
to inessentials,

for pruning back their work
to the point of sterility.

Lord Sebastian...

Merci, Doctor.

The bearded, barefooted brother

in whose charge I was put,

the man
of no scientific pretensions

who did the dirty jobs
of the ward,

had a different story.

He's so patient.

Not like a young man at all.

He lies there
and never complains,

and there is much
to complain of.

As you see,
we have no facilities.

The government gives us

what they can spare
from the soldiers.

And he is so kind.

There is a poor German boy

with a foot that won't heal

and secondary syphilis.

He comes for treatment.

Lord Flyte...

Lord Flyte
found him starving in Tangier

and took him in
and gave him a home.

A true Samaritan.

"Poor simple monk," I thought.

Poor booby.

God forgive me.

Your friend.

Thank you.

Oh.

I thought he meant Kurt.

What are you doing here,
Charles?

I've come to find you.

Well, I'll leave you to talk.

I'll come back
in a little while.

I saw the doctor.

I must say
you're not looking as bad

as I thought you might be.

Over the worst.

Went out of my mind
for a day or so.

Pneumonia, so they say.

I kept thinking
I was back in Oxford,

which is strange,
don't you think?

Since I couldn't really be
further away,

could I, Charles?

You've been to the house?

Yes.

Like it?

Yes.

Yes, I've liked
everything I've seen.

I do understand
what keeps you here.

Kurt still there?

I won't ask you
if you like Kurt.

Nobody does.

It's funny.

I couldn't go on without him,
you know.

Sebastian, I'm afraid
your mother is not very well.

In fact, that's...

the main reason that I'm here.

I think she'd like to see you.

Poor Mummy.

She really was a femme fatale,
wasn't she?

She killed at a touch.

What do you want to do?

I don't know.

Let me think about it.

I obviously can't travel
at the moment.

No.

Charles, do you think
you could do something for me?

Of course.

Well, if you're going to come
and see me again,

do you think you could
smuggle in a bottle of brandy?

I telegraphed to Julia

that Sebastian
was unable to travel,

and I stayed on in Fez,
visiting the hospital daily.

Thank you.

On my third day,
a telegram arrived from Julia.

Lady Marchmain was dead.

I stayed on
in case Sebastian wanted help

getting back to England
for his mother's funeral.

Monsieur Ryder!

Monsieur Ryder!

S'il vous plait.

Es ce que je peux vous parler?

Your friend is drinking again.

An ounce of cognac
will not hurt him too much,

but maybe it will make him
weaker the next time he is ill.

Then one day, some little thing
will carry him away.

Poof!

This is not a home
for inebriates.

He must go home
at the end of the week.

If you're
going to discharge him,

I'll try and stay
a few more days.

He'll need someone
to see him home.

Your friend
is much happier today.

It is like one transfigured.

Do you know why?

He has a bottle of cognac
in bed with him.

It's the second I have found.

No sooner do I take one away
from him,

he gets another.

He is so naughty.

It's the Arab boys
who fetch it for him.

Still,

it's good to see him happy
when he was so sad.

Hello. How are you feeling?

Better.

Feeling much better.

Good.

May I?

Sebastian,

now your mother's dead,

do you think of going back
to England?

Oh, it would be lovely.

Do you think Kurt would like it?

Oh, for God's sake,

you don't mean to spend the rest
of your life with Kurt, do you?

He means to spend it with me.

It's all right for him,

I reckon, maybe.

I've been to the bank for you.

Try and straighten things out
a little.

The bank manager
was very helpful.

He says that if I can arrange
with your lawyers

for a quarterly allowance
to be sent out from England,

you can draw
weekly pocket money.

Now, in an emergency,
you can draw-

- You know, Charles,

it's really
a very pleasant change

when all your life, you've been
looked after by people,

to have someone
to look after yourself.

Of course, it does have to be
someone pretty helpless

to need looking after by me.

As I was saying,
in an emergency,

you can draw reserves
from the larger fund.

Now, you've got to convince him
it is an emergency.

And you've got to collect
the money personally.

Oh, goodl.

Otherwise,
Kurt will have me sign a check

for the whole amount
when I'm tight.

Then he'll go off

and get into all sorts
of trouble.

Where shall I put your case,
Sebastian?

Shall I unpack it for you?

No, no, the boy will do it.

It was time you came back.

I need you.

Do you, Kurt?

Yes.

I reckon so.

It's not so good being alone
when you're sick.

That boy's a lazy fellow,

always slipping off
when I want him.

Once he stayed out all night,

and there was no one
to make my coffee

when I woke up.

It's no good
having a foot full of pus.

Times l...

I can't sleep good.

Maybe another time,

I shall slip off too

and go somewhere
where I can be looked after.

You see?

What do you want?

Cigarettes.

There are some in the bag
under my bed.

I'll get them for you.

Nol

it's my job.

Yes.

I think that's Sebastian's job.

So I left him with his friend

in the little enclosed house
at the end of the alley.

There was nothing more
I could do for Sebastian.

His mother was buried
that same afternoon

at Brideshead.