Original subtitles

(orchestral waltz music)

(door creaking)

(door thumping)

(door thumping)

- We'll just leave it for the time being, Nelly.

(door thudding)

(door thudding)

- Where's Rose, Hudson?

- I gave her permission to go off early, my lady.

She wanted to visit her aunt who lives some distance away.

- I see, well, she should really finish

her duties before she goes off.

- Yes, my lady.

Rose has been rather upset recently, my lady.

- Yes, Hudson, we all have.

You were quite right to let her go.

Coffee, James?

-[James] No, thank you, Mother, I don't think so.

- Sir. - Yes.

-[Lady Marjorie] Alright, Hudson, thank you.

- My lady.

-[Lady Marjorie] Hudson?

- Yes, my lady?

- You don't think that Rose knows where Miss Elizabeth is?

- Oh, no my lady.

If Rose knew such a thing,

I'm sure she wouldn't keep it to herself.

-[Lady Marjorie] Thank you, Hudson.

- My lady.

(door thudding)

- If she's not in a hotel,

and she's not with friends, where can she be?

- I imagine she's with her new friends.

- New friends?

- Do you mean those socialists?

- Well, they call themselves Fabians.

- Oh, what's the difference?

- As I see the matter, James,

Fabians are better bred and less realistic.

There's a little nest of them at Cambridge

where they go on midnight picnics

and patronize Keir Hardie.

- Oh, surely Elizabeth will never be taken in by them.

- 'Tis awfully good of you, Henrietta,

to take me in off the street.

Just think what might have happened to me otherwise.

One more unfortunate, weary of breath,

rashly importunate, gone to her death.

- Take her up tenderly, cherish her do,

You might pawn her watch for a shilling or two.

- I never thought of pawning my watch, what a good idea.

Henrietta, would you like me to pawn my watch?

Then I'd be able to pay you something.

- You're earning your keep doing that.

Which is more than I can say for Lawrence.

He isn't even earning his tea.

- Oh, what nonsense, of course I am.

Unlike William Morris, I believe in pure decoration.

This the the brave new patent of life.

That women should work, and men be just beautiful.

The overpowering ugliness of this room

would quite dampen your spirits if I were not here.

- I do hope that popping these leaflets

through letter boxes will convince people

more than if we post them.

- Most of them don't want to be convinced.

- Oh, dear Henrietta, you're the only one

with your feet on the ground.

Whatever would we do without you?

- We should float up into the air like thistledown.

Higher and higher and higher with our voices

coming back like rather tinny skylarks,

until at last we reach the sun and then,

we all flare up in one glorious conflagration.

It would almost be worth it.

- Yes, but it wouldn't do the poor a scrap of good,

and that's what we're here for.

- Yes, of course, we are.

- Henrietta, as you're the practical one,

do you think you could see if Mrs. March

has forgotten about our tea?

- As usual.

- I have a yearning for hot

buttered toast that's almost immoral.

(door thudding)

- I wish I were Henrietta.

She's always so sure of everything.

- Aren't you sure of everything?

- I'm not sure of anything.

(bell ringing)

At least, I'm fairly sure of things, but never of people.

- And I'm sure of people and never of things.

- You didn't mean that.

You only said it 'cause it was a good answer.

- You know, I sometimes think that I don't mean anything.

- C'mon.

- Elizabeth, visitor for you.

- Rose!

Come in.

You know Mr. Lawrence Kerbridge.

Lawrence, you remember my dear friend Rose, of course.

- Hotfoot from affluent Eaton Place.

- I'd a got 'ere sooner, Miss Elizabeth.

- Oh, don't call me that.

It sounds so ridiculous here.

- What shall I call you then?

- I don't know.

Elizabeth, I suppose.

Friends call each other by their names.

- But I'm not your friend,

I'm your parents' house parlor maid.

- Yes, but not here.

- Well, I'm not ashamed of it, that's what I do.

I'm a house parlor maid.

- Rose believes in the truth. - Aye?

- You believe in the truth.

- Yes, sir.

- Oh Rose, how ridiculous you are.

As if it matters.

- I'll take that upstairs and unpack it for you.

- Let me have a look.

Oh.

What's this?

Present?

- No, I had to stop and buy you a hairbrush on the way.

Couldn't bring the one you left on the dressing table.

- Rose, that's so clever.

I'll take it up to my room and unpack it.

I've got a bedroom in the attic that is just like yours.

- I'll take it for you, Miss Elizabeth.

- No, I can manage, it's not heavy.

- Lay all the things out. I've pressed them all.

- Rose, will you sit down?

(Lawrence clearing throat)

- May I take your hat and coat.

- No, thank you.

- Well, uh, sit down, anyway.

- Thank you, sir.

- Tea will be here directly.

- Excuse me, sir? - Yes?

- This place, is it a lodging?

- Yes, it is.

Miss Henrietta Winchmore,

the young lady who let you in,

lodges here, and Miss Elizabeth is sharing with her.

- Oh.

- And I am staying with friends at St. John's Wood.

But when they get too dull to bear

for another minute, I come round here.

- Oh, I see.

- You're quite wrong, you know.

- Wrong? - Yes.

Miss Elizabeth really does think of you as her friend.

- Yes, I know.

- Rose, I put my washing in a case,

could you get it down for me and bring it back next week?

- No, I'd have to get it past Mr. Hudson.

I'd never manage that.

- Rose, you can manage anything.

(Rose gasping)

Oh, I'll do it myself, but I've got so much work to do.

- What about my work?

- Oh, but this is real work.

- So is mine.

Feels real enough, anyhow.

And Mr. Hudson notices when I don't get it done,

and so does her ladyship.

- Well, it may be real work, but it's not for real people.

- (chuckles) Miss Elizabeth, whatever d'ya mean by that?

- My parents aren't real people.

- Parents never are.

They're all sorts of other things.

They're stupid.

And innocent.

And inquisitive, and fact-fully faithful.

But they're not real.

You should never think of parents as real people.

It only worries them and confuses them.

- Exactly.

- Well, I'll see what I can do.

But it won't be easy.

What you doin' there, anyhow?

- We're changing the world.

- Ooh, I'm not sure I want it changed.

- Oh, yes you do, Rose.

Really you do.

You want to change the law which says being poor is a crime.

- A most important thing to do will be to create a truly

noble relationship between the people and the state.

So that the people work devotedly

and honorably before the state,

and the state in turn loves and cares for the people.

Just as we love and care for each other.

- Oh, hot buttered toast and Dundee cake!

Marvelous.

Take off your hat, Rose.

Sit down.

- Well, I could fancy a cuppa tea.

- I don't understand how she can be so cruel.

Not even to send a word or a message.

Doesn't she know how we feel?

-[Richard] No, I don't think she does.

- Nowadays, children seem to think

their parents don't feel anything.

Well, we should've been firmer with her.

- Marjorie, Elizabeth is over 21.

- Oh yes, if she wants to go away,

frighten us all to death, and cause so much unhappiness,

she has a perfect right (sobs).

- My dear.

My dear.

- It's my fault she's no dignity.

Must be my fault that she can treat us like this.

It must be.

- No, no.

- I better go and change for dinner.

- I'm off, Father, have you heard anything from...

- No, James, we haven't heard anything.

- Aren't you dining with us, James?

- No, not tonight, I'm going to the music hall

and having supper with a friend afterwards.

- Well, I hope you and your friend enjoy the show.

- Who are you going to see?

- That new sensation in the vaudeville, Sara Denise.

* Oh, what are we gonna do with Uncle Arthur

* A blinking stallion, is Uncle Arthur

* When he goes a-strolling in the park

* Watch your step, girls, especially after dark

* Any old skirt's a flirt for Uncle Arthur

* He's over eighty, but how he can run

* "Give us a kiss, my dear," he'd say

* And tickle you up the boom-di-ay,

* And say it was just an 'armless bit

* A nice bruise on your way is it

* Let me go, Uncle Arthur, kind of fun

* What are we going to do with Uncle Arthur

* 'ave him doctored

-[Audience] No!

* Like a tomcat

* No!

* You'd have thought by now he'd has his fill

* But me aunt can't bloody well keep him still

* Saturday night'll find him at the boozer

* 'aving a quick one

* Then off he will pop

* Straighten his hat and up the street

* As light as a feather on his feet

* A dirty old man who don't know when to stop

* I'm glad he's not the sort to

* Time for him to stop

* Oh, don't you let me go, he's behind ya

(audience cheering and whistling)

- Hello, Sarah.

- Hello.

(cheering and whistling drowns out speakers)

- How 'bout that for applause, aye?

- They're going mad.

- They always do Saturday nights.

Mind you, most of them out there

recite the Lord's Prayer in Dutch.

They still yell their bloody 'eads off.

- Of course, they would.

'Cause it's you they love, not the (mumurs).

Do you mind if I shut out the noise

of the bellowing proletariat?

- Sick of slumming already, Mr. James?

(door thudding)

- James.

I promised you the money for that fine.

Here.

- Forget it.

Thanks all the same, but it was only

a week's salary from this place.

- Oh, I insist.

It was my fault for not being bright enough

to see through that two-faced Swede

and his rat-fingered valet.

- He had a way with him.

Rot him.

- Damn him, he put you in horror way.

- Oh well, we live and learn.

How's things in dear old Eaton Place?

If your mother could see us together now, she'd drop dead.

- Oh, I don't see why.

You're not a maid anymore.

You're the toast of Camden town.

- I was a skippy in your mother's house.

- Was.

- Shut your eyes, love.

I'm gonna strip.

- Strip away, Sarah.

- You peeked last time, remember?

Up in Lady Marjorie's boudoir that night

I got drunk and tried on a dress.

- I am a little older now, Sarah.

And wiser.

I'm a Captain.

- If you're really wise,

you wouldn't be taking me out to supper.

- Then I don't believe in wisdom.

- Don't you?

- Not when, when...

- When what?

- When you're standing here.

So little on underneath.

- Nothing on underneath.

Captain.

(clock ticking)

(distant clattering)

(clattering)

- Who is it? (Rose screaming)

Rose.

- Mr. Hudson, I never thought you'd be 'ere.

I thought you'd be...

- I decided that I didn't want to waste a good fire.

- No, well, goodnight then, Mr. Hudson.

- Rose?

- Yes, Mr. Hudson?

- You're a wee thing late.

- Yes, yes, I am.

I missed the last tram back,

and had to walk all the way home.

- I see.

Isn't that a valise you've got there?

- Uh, yes, yes, it is.

- It is Miss Elizabeth's, I think.

- Yes, it is, sir, I've 'ad it mended.

- Don't lie to me, girl.

You know where she is.

Come down here.

In there.

(door squeaks)

Oh, Rose, Rose.

I would never have thought it of you.

You know how upset her ladyship has been.

I don't approve of gossip, but I can tell you,

I've found her ladyship in tears

almost every day since Miss Elizabeth went away.

And now, you knew where she was,

and you've kept it from her.

- Well, they made Miss Elizabeth unhappy, too.

- That is no concern of yours.

- It is my concern, she's my friend.

- Your friend?

(scoffs)

If Miss Elizabeth has taught you to forget your place,

then she is no friend of yours.

Now, you will tell me where she is, my girl.

- I won't.

- Rose, you will do as I bid.

Or tomorrow I'll tell the master,

and he'll soon get it out of you.

- I won't tell 'im.

Not if he tears me to pieces.

- Sit down, Rose.

- Oh.

- Sit down.

(thudding)

What is this house, Rose?

- 165 Eaton Place.

- And what part of the house are we sitting in?

- Servant's hall.

- That is right.

The servant's hall.

You and I, Rose, we are employed here.

What the family does is their business.

We're here to do our work and mind our business, not theirs.

- Miss Elizabeth asked me to 'elp 'er.

- She shouldn't have done that.

It wasn't fair to you.

- Oh, I didn't mind.

- Well, you should.

Because it is your good name that you'll lose,

and no one's got the right to ask that of you.

- I don't see that.

- Don't you?

Well, I'll have to tell the master tomorrow

that you have known all along where Miss Elizabeth is.

And although you realized how upset her ladyship was,

you didn't say a thing.

And he will tell her ladyship,

and then they will both know that after all these years

you've been with them, they can't trust you.

They'll be very sorry to know that, Rose.

I know I am.

- Oh, Mr. Hudson.

What am I gonna do?

(sobbing)

(laughing)

- Oh ho, I'm exhausted.

(gasping)

Why must every house have three steps up to its front door?

Why can't people live in little sensible houses?

Just big enough for their needs.

None of these great pillars and porticoes.

- Oh, I don't know.

I'm rather fond of pillars and porticoes.

(scoffs) Through pillars and porticoes, long may we roam.

To you it's a palace, to me it's just home.

- Alright.

But every palace must have at least

three families living in it.

And they can share the cooking and the cleaning.

And then they can read poetry to each other

all day long.

Henrietta will be back soon

if she hasn't fallen off of her bicycle again.

(chuckling)

You'll stay for supper, won't you?

- Oh no, no I can't.

I'm going to the opera.

- Oh.

- You shouldn't sit in the firelight.

- Shouldn't I?

- I don't know, there's something about

a woman and firelight.

Makes one think of one's childhood.

Nanny and mother and all those familiar things.

Makes one feel so safe, and really

it's the most dangerous thing in the world.

Oh, I must go.

Here, look at that that when I'm gone.

- What is it?

It's your poem.

In the morning post.

Have you been carrying this around all day?

- I'm sorry I sent it, now.

- But it's wonderful.

- Do you really think so?

The editor insisted on cutting a couple of verses.

He said they were an attack on religion and marriage.

- Were they?

- Well yes, of course.

(scoffs) I didn't think he was clever

enough to realize it.

- Lawrence?

I think I'm falling in love with you.

Would that be a terrible mistake?

- A terrible mistake for you.

But wonderful for me.

(smacking)

(door thumping)

(sighing)

(knocking)

(door thumping)

- Elizabeth.

(orchestral music)

- Miss Elizabeth is actually sleeping there,

is she, in them lodgings?

- Well, yes, Mr. Pearce,

at least she's staying there with Miss Winchmore.

That's her young woman friend.

And.

- And what?

- And other people visit them.

- At nighttime, aye?

- Is one of 'em Miss Elizabeth's gentleman friend?

- You mind your own business, Nelly.

This is a private conversation

between Mr. Pearce and myself.

See, this Mr. Lawrence Kirbridge is a poet.

- He's a poet and he don't know it, aye?

(laughing)

'ere, I 'eard about poets.

- He speaks beautifully.

And he's one of the finest gentlemen I've ever met.

And I'm sure Miss Lizzie couldn't do better.

I'm sure she couldn't.

- Then why don't she come 'ome?

(inhaling)

- I must be free to live my own life.

I can't be bound by rules

and chevalets I don't believe in.

- And this freedom doesn't include freedom from money?

- Oh no, that, if you'll forgive me, is exactly--

- I'll forgive you anything, Elizabeth,

except making your mother unhappy.

I beg your pardon, I interrupted you.

- Yes.

I don't want to quarrel.

That's why I came away.

- You've made your protest, I understand.

Now, you can come home.

- Look, it wouldn't work.

I can't live the way you and mother do.

Worrying about what you eat and what you wear

and what you say.

It would like be taking part in a perpetual charade.

Oh, charades are alright at Christmas

when you all say and do things you don't mean, anyway.

If you like, I'll come home at Christmas,

and I'll play the charade beautifully

for three or four days.

A whole week.

But don't ask me to spend my whole life playing charades.

- Is religion part of the charade?

- Yes, it is, I think so and so does Lawrence.

- Lawrence?

- Lawrence Kirbridge, the poet.

He's now a friend of mine.

- Oh yes, he's that rather precious young man

who writes poems against religion and marriage.

- He writes poems for a lot of things, too,

but you wouldn't notice that.

He writes about truth and beauty and about honesty.

And about being young and knowing

that the world belongs to you.

- Elizabeth, you won't always be young.

- All the more reason not to betray you, for I have it.

- Oh, that beastly bicycle, look what it's done to my skirt.

I shall have to give it to the cat meat man.

Never mind, I got rid of them all.

Oh.

- Henrietta, my father.

- How do you do, Mr. Bellamy?

- Miss Henrietta.

- Did you finish all the leaflets?

Why you haven't done half of them.

- Yes, we have, we've done thousands.

- Oh, the trouble with you and Lawrence

is that you talk too much instead of working.

- No, we don't.

- Well, I better go and get supper.

Mrs. March is drunk.

- Oh, not again.

(Henrietta huffing)

- Who is Mrs. March?

- My landlady.

She does hit the bottle a bit.

Never mind, I found some sausages in the meat safe.

I think I'll cook them.

Oh, are you staying for supper, Mr. Bellamy?

- Oh...

No thank you.

I have to get to the house.

There's an important division tonight.

- Oh yes, you're a Tory, aren't you?

What action are you going to take on that bill?

- Which bill?

- Winston Churchill's Labor Exchange Bill.

- I'm not sure.

- You're not?

I thought you'd vote against it.

- It's a good bill.

I should probably abstain.

- And if there's a whip on?

- Well then, I shall consult--

- Oh, your leader, I suppose.

- I was about to say my conscience.

- Oh.

Maybe you're not quite as bad as you seem.

- (chuckles) Funny, I was thinking

exactly the same thing about you.

(sighing)

(door thumping)

(audience cheering)

-[Audience Member] Bravo!

- Hello.

Wee.

I thought you wasn't coming tonight.

- I'm here.

- You said you was on duty at the barracks.

- I was, but I managed to get out of it

to be with you, my love.

Why don't we go somewhere different tonight?

I've heard of some awfully jolly

little town down in Chessington.

- Where no one will recognize you

as the son of Mr. Richard Pemperton Bellamy.

- Oh, that's not the point, Sarah.

- Oh, isn't it?

Alright, then let's go to the Ritz.

You can take me to supper at the Ritz.

And show me off to all your mother and father's friends.

Ooh, dear, dear, isn't that Marjorie Bellamy's boy

over their with his new lady friend works on the stage?

(clucking) Dear, dear, what a little trollop she looks,

all them feathers and jewels.

I do hear as how she was the under-house parlor maid.

- Oh, shut up.

Go on and on about that.

I'll take you to the Ritz if that's where you want to go.

I don't care what the parents,

I don't care what anybody says.

- But I do!

I care.

Now, listen.

I don't want you to take me to the Ritz

or any other posh place.

Not yet, anyway.

Not 'til you're sure how you feel about me.

I mean, we gotta give it time.

We've only been together again little while.

- I love you, Sarah.

- Shh, but I want you to promise me something.

- Anything, any reason.

Necklace, perhaps.

- Oh, shut up, I don't want no expensive presents from you.

All I want you to promise me

is that you'll go easy on that stuff.

I mean, you're a good-looking boy.

Too many bottles of this,

and you're gonna go all bloated and depraved.

And I wouldn't want my brave Captain to go all depraved.

(growling)

Now then, Captain, if you'll kindly undo me,

I'll get changed.

We'll whistle up a hansom

and drive back to my place.

For a cuppa cocoa, aye?

(both laughing)

- "And when you talk of tenderness,

"I tell you I have none to spare,

"I did not even know I loved you,

"'til I saw bluebells in your hair.

"I did not even know I loved you,

"'til I saw bluebells in your hair."

Well, it doesn't scan, does it?

- No, it doesn't.

- It'd be better to say, "I did not know I loved you,

"'til I saw bluebells in your hair."

- Why say it at all? - Mmm.

- Doesn't make sense, if she's got blue hair.

Well, at least he gets them published.

I suppose that's something.

- He's making quite a name for himself.

- A name?

- Yes, a lot of people think he's very gifted.

Mr. Askwaith was talking about him only yesterday.

His uncle is JG Kirbridge,

the Tory member for Bristol North.

- I suppose we could ask him to lunch.

- Funny to think of Miss Elizabeth

coming to lunch as a guest.

- Shh.

-[Lady Marjorie] Your father is dead,

I believe, Mr. Kirbridge.

-[Lawrence] Yes, three years ago.

-[Lady Marjorie] Does your mother live in London?

-[Lawrence] No, no, she lives in Tunbridge Wells, actually.

-[Lady Marjorie] Very pretty there, isn't it?

-[Lawrence] Yes.

-[Lady Marjorie] I hear your uncle is JG Kirbridge.

- Oh mother, what does it matter who his uncle was?

- Oh, I dunno, rather interested in my relatives.

Another of my uncles used to say

we were descended from Alfred the Great.

Of course, he was commonly known as Mad George.

- Was he really mad?

- Well, he was eccentric, rather.

- Mad, nor no west.

- Yes, exactly.

He was a missionary, actually, in the South Seas.

He even had an island named after him.

And then he died and the natives ate him.

- Really?

- Well, I imagine so, I mean, they always

eat you in the South Seas, don't they?

Don't they?

- Not invariably.

- Oh?

I thought they did.

Oh, yeah, actually, I,

I approve of cannibalism.

- Mr. Kirbridge.

- Oh, call me Lawrence.

Everyone does.

No, when you think about it, it's rather a delightful idea.

- Delightful?

- Yes, just imagine, Lady Marjorie,

that someone that you admire tremendously.

Now, in the normal course of events they die,

and you've lost them.

But according to the South Sea islanders,

and the Maori's of New Zealand, I believe,

if you eat them, all their qualities become yours.

Rather novel sort of life after death.

It's quite religious, actually.

- Well, I do understand the idea, but I'm not sure

I would ever take to it.

More coffee, Mr. Kirbridge?

-[Lawrence] No, thank you.

- Have you ever thought of emulating

your uncle and going into politics, Mr. Kirbridge?

- No, he hasn't.

- I wouldn't say that.

Thank you, Rose.

It's just that I don't really see myself as a politician.

See, a politician has to hold the same opinion

years and years and years on end.

-[Lady Marjorie] Thank you, Hudson.

- And I change my opinion every week.

(chuckles) Every intelligent man does.

- They like Mr. Hudson, you can tell they do.

- He has a very easy, pleasant way with them.

- Don't you like him, Mr. Hudson?

- It is not my place to like him or dislike him.

- No, but-- - Nor yours, either, Rose.

- No, Mr. Hudson.

- He's not quite what we're used to, but he could be worse.

- But vaudeville is a matter of principle, surely.

- Yes, but what exactly is a matter of principle?

And how does it differ from any other opinion?

- Well, there are certain basic rules of life.

- Yes, but my basic rule of life is to enjoy it.

And that everyone else should do the same thing.

But it must be everyone.

I don't just mean one's friends and relatives.

I mean, I mean the cole man, the factory worker, the miner,

the little chap who works in the shop selling thyme.

They've all got one life.

They have the right to enjoy it, just as I enjoy mine.

Now, this is the principle upon which I live.

And if we all lived on the same principle, well,

well, there'd be no further use of politicians.

- Nevertheless, with that flow of oratory,

I think you'd make a very good one.

- But we don't believe in politics as they exist today.

Anymore than we believe in religion or marriage.

- Ah, James.

I was expecting you for lunch.

- Sorry I'm late, mum, I got held up.

This is Mr. Lawrence Kirbridge.

My son James.

- How do you do?

- Yes, I believe you were at school with a friend of mine.

Bunny Hount.

- Bunny? Oh, yes.

Yes, we were great rivals for athletic glory.

We used to run round and round and round at the muddy track.

Trying to see which one of us could go faster.

- There's no point at this proceeding.

- I think it's always good to excel.

-[Lawrence] How is old bunny?

- He's taken up polo now, so the ponies have to run instead.

(Lawrence laughing)

You should come and watch us play some time.

- Yes, yes, I'd like to do that very much, thank you.

- Well, we must go.

- Well, darling, you don't have to go yet, surely.

- Yes, we really must.

I promised Henrietta I'd do some

statistics about aged destitution.

- Well, goodbye, Lady Marjorie, thank you.

Thank you very much for this delightful lunch.

- It's been a great pleasure.

You must come again.

- Well, thank you, I'd like that.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

- Give my regards to old Bunny when you see him, won't you?

- I will indeed.

- We're getting a lodge at the Carton Club next week

in which a number of literary people will be present,

I wonder if you'd care to come as my guest.

- Well, thank you, sir, yes.

I'd like that very much.

- Oh, you'll know where to find him.

Henrietta's gone down into Wales,

and Lawrence is coming to share the lodgings with me.

Bye.

Come along.

(door thumping)

- Why not?

If it makes your parents happy,

and my mother happy, why not?

- Because it's against our principles.

- Oh, well, if we're doing it because we're afraid

of the conventions, then I agree.

But what harm will it do us to say a few meaningless words

in a rather ugly studio gothic barn

then just forget about it?

- A great deal of harm.

To us and to the things we believe in.

- But how could it change us if we don't believe in it?

- Look, it isn't just getting married,

it's joining their fat, comfortable world.

They'll make us fat and comfortable, too.

Oh, oh don't ask me to do it.

Please, don't ask me.

- I don't see how else you can see Rose

if they're both living under the same roof.

- Well, I suppose we must draw the worse conclusions.

(sighs)

- I would never have believed it of him.

A presentable young gentleman like that,

nicely spoken, well-connected.

- I think it's Miss Elizabeth.

She told me she don't believe in marriage.

- Then she's a disgrace to her family.

- You're ruining your father's career, you know that.

- Oh, what rubbish.

How could it possibly?

- A politician must be absolutely reliable.

Even a breath of scandal could be disastrous.

People consider your father for committee work

or to sit on some special commission they think,

"That's the man whose daughter's living...

Who is living..."

- Living in sin.

Oh, can't you see, there's no such thing as sin?

There's only cruelty and stupidity.

Lawrence and I love each other.

So we're doing what is perfectly

natural when you love each other,

we're spending all the time we can in each other's company.

We haven't been to bed together.

Yet.

But when we want to, and when we feel it's the right

and natural thing to do, then we shall do it.

Can't you understand?

- Yes, I understand.

I understand that you're making us all miserable

for a stupid, childish, arrogant whim.

- Oh, God!

(door slamming)

(door slamming)

(sighing)

(knocking)

- Rose.

Come in.

Have you come to supper?

- No, I can't stop, Miss Elizabeth.

Her ladyship and the master have gone out to supper,

and Miss Dragson said I could come out

for an hour, but only an hour.

- Oh, I'm glad.

Come sit down.

- Mr. Lawrence not 'ere?

- No, he's staying with his mother for a week.

- Oh, trying to explain, I suppose.

- Trying to explain what?

- Why you and him aren't getting married.

- Oh, Rose, how could you?

I thought you'd understand, at least.

- Well, I don't understand, Miss Elizabeth,

and neither do the other servants.

- Oh, what do they matter?

- They matter to me.

And you matter to them.

- Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that.

But it's because of them.

I mean, all that we're trying to do, Rose...

- Do you mean, you're not getting married

will be better for the poor?

- Well, yes.

It's all part of the same thing.

Being free from the old, stupid ways of thinking.

Being free to care about everyone instead of being

tied up in marriage and religion and society.

- I see.

Now, let's make sure I got this right.

You want to help people?

-[Elizabeth] Yes.

- You want to do good for people,

all sorts of people everywhere?

- Yes, I do.

Very much.

- But you don't want to help the two people nearest to you.

- Well, if you mean my parents--

- Yes, I do!

- Rose, they're dead!

Or at least they're dying.

They're part of a dying world.

If I tied myself to them and did

what they wanted, then I should die too.

- Oh, I see.

So, when someone's dying,

you're supposed to leave them alone.

I didn't know that.

-[Elizabeth] Oh, Rose.

- When my mother was dying,

they sent for me up at the big house.

Sat by her bed and held her hand all night until she died.

I didn't know I wasn't supposed to do that,

but then I'm just a stupid, ignorant girl

what doesn't know any better.

And if I am, her ladyship must be also,

'cause she sat beside me and held my hand.

And in the morning when my mother died

and I was crying, she cried too.

- Oh, it's not fair.

Not fair.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Oh mother, look, isn't that frightful?

- Perfectly ghastly.

It's from Morde, of course.

(both laughing)

- Oh!

- Aunt Kate.

- Did you know?

- No, it looks like her.

- Ah!

Why is everyone so kind when one's getting married?

- Oh, I think they remember their own love.

Happily somebody become very vulnerable.

They want to cherish it.

- Set them all out on the table.

That's right, that's right.

Rose, where's the cover for the big meat dish?

- It's not in the pantry cupboard, Mr. Hudson,

but we haven't used it at all,

not since Mr. James' coming of age.

- Oh, maybe it's been put away in the silver chest.

I'll have a look later.

Get a good shine on those silvers, Edward.

- I'll do my best, Mr. Hudson.

- Now, Nelly, get out all the glassware you can find.

There are going to be over 200 guests at reception.

- Oh, we ain't got 200 best plates nor nothing.

- The caterers will supplement what we cannot provide, Rose.

Look sharp now, Nelly.

- Mr. Hudson, will I be going to the church?

- Provided you dress respectably.

Put on a proper hat and see

that your hands and face are clean.

All the servants will be going to the church.

There will be a private omnibus waiting

for us directly after the ceremony.

And I don't want any of you loitering

about to see the bride leaving.

Other guests will be arriving back

for the reception before we do.

- Nelly.

You, marm, are you going church?

You fecked up too near the alter,

you might get married to me.

- (laughing) Edward, you're a cur!

- I know!

- Edward!

Get on with your work.

Marriage is a very serious business.

(blowing raspberry)

(slapping)

- I wonder if this is my book or Henrietta's.

I think I'll keep it.

If she wants it, she can ask me for it.

And if she doesn't want it, I may as well keep it.

- Oh, I wish I could stay here 'til the wedding.

How absurd that we should have to conform

to their tribal customs.

How ridiculous that we should have to wait

to make love until society gives us its approval.

Lawrence?

- Hmm?

- I'm sorry about Evelyn Larkin.

- Oh, she's alright, she always is.

- No, I mean, making love.

I'm sorry it's not going to be the first time.

For both of us.

- Well, you don't have to worry about me and Evelyn.

It wasn't a great success.

Perhaps, it's just as well, really.

If it had been, she might

not have let me go quite so easily.

She rather cares for that sort of thing.

- Don't you?

- Oh, of course.

- I'm sure I shall.

- Well, we shall see, won't we?

- Yes, we shall see.

(clock ticking)

- Did you clean your shoes this morning, Edward?

- Yes, Mr. Hudson.

- Well, give them another rub while I go upstairs.

Rose, assemble the staff.

- Yes, Mr. Hudson.

- And blow your nose, Nelly.

- I don't need to.

- Blow it just the same.

(blowing)

- With our very best wishes, Miss Elizabeth.

-[Elizabeth] Thank you, thank you very much.

Can I open it now?

- Allow me, Miss.

(Nelly chortling)

- Nelly.

- Oh, it's beautiful.

Thank you, thank you so much.

Oh, dear Rose.

Oh (laughing).

Oh (laughing)

Thank you.

(all laughing)

(clock chiming)

(organ music)

(chatter)

- Elizabeth's nearly ready.

-[Richard] Shouldn't you be leaving?

- Yes, I'm going now.

- Is she alright?

- Why shouldn't she be?

- You look beautiful.

- No, I don't, but I've done my best.

Can't do more, can one?

- No (chuckling).

- Now, the servants are just leaving.

If Elizabeth isn't done in 10 minutes,

shout up the stairs.

- Yes, yes, I'll do that.

- Oh, James, good lad, are we ready?

- Everything's in order, Mother.

Ah, splendid.

There.

Well.

Ready, Mother?

- Paul, take the covers off in an hour time.

And you can offer the caterers a cup of tea,

but no strong liquor, mind.

Where's Nelly at...

- How do I look, Mr. Hudson?

- (exhaling) Remarkable, Nelly.

Come along, then, quickly.

- Shall I call Rose if we're going, Mr. Hudson?

- No, no, Rose is attending to the bride.

She'll come on later and join us at the church.

Follow me.

- Nelly.

My arm, pleasure?

- (gasping) Edward!

- If I get 'ungry in church,

I'm gonna have a nibble of your cherries.

(laughing)

- Edward!

- No, no, no, it's a nice 'at, really.

No, I do like it, really.

C'mon, quick, let's go.

(birds twittering)

(hooves clopping)

(organ music)

-[Woman] My dear marm.

- Alright then, Mother?

- I suppose so.

- C'mon then.

- James, you don't think Elizabeth--

- Don't worry.

Father will see her to her post.

(organ music)

- I feel like a gladiator

about to return (murmuring).

- Don't worry they'll let you live.

You brought the ring.

- You're sure?

(organ music)

- Aye marm, it's this here end, it's all caught up.

- Now, don't let me go without the bouquet.

- And don't forget what her ladyship said about holding it.

- Not over my stomach as though I'm concealing a baby

and not in my arms as though I'm nursing one.

- (laughing) Oh, Miss Elizabeth.

- Oh, well, but that's how I remember what not to do.

- There, that's alright.

Now, put your veil over your head.

- Oh, no, no, no, wait until I finish with the stairs.

- Just imagine, honeymoon in Vienna.

- Yes.

Rose?

- Yes, Miss Elizabeth?

- In case you have any doubts about it,

I'm still quite pure, you know.

- Yes, Miss Elizabeth.

- You had doubts, didn't you?

- Well, I had quite thought what with all

that talk about not believing in marriage,

but I'm very pleased to hear it.

- Are you?

I'm not.

- Miss Elizabeth.

- Oh, Rose, if it wasn't for you,

I wouldn't be standing here now.

- But I done it all for the best, Miss Elizabeth.

- Yes, I know.

Everyone's done everything for the best,

only now, I'm so frightened.

- But you do love him, don't you?

- Yes.

But I wish I knew...

- What?

- Yes.

Yes, I do love him.

I do, I do.

Maybe it's all for the best.

- Oh, I'm sure it is, Miss Elizabeth.

I'm sure it is.

(door creaking)

- Elizabeth.

(organ music)

- Edward? - Yes, Mr. Hudson?

- Don't sing too loud with the hymns.

-[Sarah] Oh, no.

(shushing)

I'm one of the family.

- Who on earth is that?

- God almighty!

- Who is it?

- It's Sarah,

that used to be in service.

- Oh, she never.

- Yeah, you were right once.

- Blimey!

- It looks like.

But it can't be.

- Mother, I'll see to it.

- It's no use sticking me in the back,

I won't see a thing.

Now listen, you might not think it to look at me,

but I'm very short-sighted.

Oh, there's some of me old friends up there.

Hello, where's...

- There'll be arriving here any minute.

- Don't worry.

I'll never spoil an entrance.

(organ music)

(engine rumbling)

- You alright?

- Yes, I'm alright.

- You know marriage is a decourish faith in the future.

I'm glad you're making it.

- So am I.

(organ music)

(organ music)

* Oh, what are we gonna do with Uncle Arthur

(clapping and singing)

(clapping and singing)

- See now!

Oh, I, I beg your pardon, Miss Denise.

- Yes, Hudson.

- Edward, Nelly, Pearce, upstairs, the front hall.

Miss Elizabeth is leaving shortly.

(clapping)

C'mon, quickly now.

The other wedding guests are assembling in the hall, Miss.

- Well, I'm assembling down 'ere.

- I, I think since you were invited as a guest, Miss--

- Oh, I was invited, alright.

- Sarah!

- Down 'ere, Jimmy.

- Sir.

- Oh, what on earth are you doing down here?

- Reliving old memories.

- You know very well you hated

every minute of your time here.

- I know.

(glasses clinking)

Poor old Hudson was a bit confused.

I mean, I don't really belong anywhere, do I?

Neither upstairs, nor downstairs.

-[Both] Nor in my ladies' chamber.

- You belong to me.

- Do I?

- Elizabeth is about to go.

- I wish we could go away.

- Where to?

Vienna?

- I'd rather go to Paris.

- Alright.

Let's go.

- What, now?

- Why not?

- Wee!

What about the regiment?

- What about the theater?

- To hell with the theater.

- To hell with the regiment.

(speaking foreign language)

- C'mon, let's go and play some confession to my sister.

- Aye, watch it, you'll rupture yourself.

(orchestral music)

(orchestral waltz music)