Original subtitles

John Huston - The Dead (1982)

Here we are,

- Come on! - I'm right behind you,

- I should be up in a second,

- Go on, I'm right behind you.

The ladies dressing room is upstairs, Miss Kate and Miss Julia are waiting for you.

Thank you, Lily,

- We'll see you upstairs, then. - Right-e-o.

Miss Furlong, Miss O'Callaghan and Miss Higgins,

..coming up, Miss Kate! - Is there no sign of my nephew yet?

No, ma'm.

Where can Gabriel be? I just hope he gets here before Freddy Malins.

Ah, Miss O'Callaghan, how delighted I am to see you,

And you, Miss Furlong,

And you, Miss Higgins.

O, what a surprise, Mary Jane's three favourite pupils all together.

Where's Mary Jane? I have a present for her from Christmas.

Yes, of course, you missed your lesson.

- Did you enjoy England? - It was lovely.

Mary Jane will be up in a minute. To tell you the truth, she's basting a goose.

Lilly, I am upstairs. Keep an eye on the potatoes to see they don't boil over.

But who will answer the door, miss? I can't hear the bell from the kitchen.

- Good evening, Mr. Kerrigan. - Good evening, Miss Morkan, I'd like you to meet friend of mine, Mr. Raymond Bergin.

- How do you do, Mr. Bergin. - How do you do.

- I'm very glad that you could come. - Delighted to be here.

Just pop down every few minutes and come straight up again like a good girl.

I have to lay the table, miss.

Well, do your best.

- Good evening! - Good evening.

- Miss Kate, Miss Julia Morkan,

May I present Mr. Raymond Bergin and Mr. Joseph Kerrigan,

who were so good to escort us here tonight.

It's a great pleasure to meet friends of any of Mary Jane's young ladies.

- Thank you for having us. - We appreciate this, Miss Morkan.

I think I remember you from last year, Mr. Kerrigan,

Julia, don't you remember Mr. Kerrigan from last year?

- Yes, of course, of course. - All right,

do you want to go into the dancing first, or do you want to have a refreshment?

- Dancing, please! - To warm us up!

That'd be sure enough after your cold ride.

Miss O'Callaghan, Miss Furlong, Miss Higgins.. !

- Who's there, Lily? - Mr. Browne!

Just Mr. Browne?

Isn't one of me enough for you?

More then enough, Dan!

I'm sure Freddy's stewed, O, I'm sure he is.

And when he's stewed, he's so hard to manage.

He's quite impossible.

Whatever will we do?

Whoever's giving away a gift chose the right day for it,

Chose the Feast of Epiphany, the Three Kings, a Star in the East,

By right, she should have gold, frankincense and myrrh in that.

Whatever it is, it smells nice.

It's some special toilet soap, from Bond street.

How thoughtful of you.

Well, frankincense and myrrh from London West End.

- Miss Julia. - O, how lovely!

Thank you, Dan.

- How are you, Dan? - Well, not quite good.

Why, what's the matter?

Found out you've been waiting for someone other then me to arrive.

I'm worried about Freddy.

- But he's taken a pledge. - Are you sure?

Of course I am, his mother made him on New Year's Eve.

O, that's funny. She never said a word about it. She arrived here an hour ago!

He might have succumbed.

If he has, can I count on you? You know what it's like.

Of course you can.

I'll bet even money that's him now.

Mr. Conroy, Miss Kate and Miss Julia thought you were never coming.

Good-night, Mrs. Conroy.

I'll engage they did, but they forget that my wife here takes three mortal hours to dress herself.

- Who's that now, Lily? - Miss Kate, here is Mrs. Conroy!

- Thank good Lord you have arrived! - You must be perished alive!

Is Gabriel with you?

Here I am, Aunt Kate, as right as the mail, I'll be up in the moment!

- Quite bellow he has! - He's a bellower all right.

Is it snowing again, Mr. Conroy?

It is, Lily, I'm afraid we're in for the night of it.

Tell me, Lily, are you still going to school?

No sir, I'm done schooling this year and more.

Good Lord, seems like only yesterday,

You were playing with your ragged dolls on the front steps.

I suppose we'll be going to your wedding one of these fine days.

The men that is now is only all palaver and what they can get out of you.

Lily, it's Christmas time, isn't it?

- O, no, sir... - Just a little.

- I wouldn't take that, sir. - It's Christmas-time!

- No, really, sir... - Christmas-time! Christmas-time!

One feels that one is listening to a thought-tormented music.

We've taken a room at the Greshham. It was the first time I stayed in the hotel in four years.

To be sure, by far the best thing to do.

Are you not anxious about the children, Gretta?

O, for one night... Besides,

Bessie will look after them.

To be sure,

What a comfort it is to have a girl like that, one you can depend on!

There's that Lily, I don't know what has come over her lately.

But she's not the girl she was at all.

O, here he is, lurking in the corridor!

Like a little boy sent out of class.

What's up with you at all, Gabriel?

He's only concerned about his speech, Aunt Kate, he's been fretting about it for days.

Nonsense, he made a wonderful job of it in the past.

You will be fine, Gabriel, just fine.

I bet you'd like a nice warm glass of punch.

Ah, yes please. You know, it's really bitter out.

Gretta tells me you're not going to take a cab back to Monkstown.

No, we had quite enough of that last year, hadn't we?

Cab windows rattling all the way, and the east wind blowing in as soon as we passed Merrion.

Very jolly it was. As for Gretta here...

She'd walk home in the snow if she were let.

Don't mind him, Aunt Kate, he's really an awful bother.

What with green shades for Tom's eyes at night and making him do the dumb-bells.

Forcing Eva to eat the stirabout. The poor child! And she simply hates the sight of it!

O, but you'll never guess what he makes me wear now!

Goloshes! That's the latest.

Whenever it's wet underfoot I must put on my goloshes.

Tonight even he wanted me to put them on, but I wouldn't.

The next thing he'll buy me will be a diving suit.

- Isn't that the limit? - And what are goloshes, Gabriel?

Goodness gracious, Julia,

- Don't you know what goloshes are? - No.

You wear them over your . . . boots,

- Isn't it, Gretta? - Right, guttapercha things.

We both have a pair now. Gabriel says everyone wears them on the continent.

O, on the continent...

Where's Julia going?

Julia!

Here's Freddy, Kate!

Slip down, Gabriel, and see if he's all right.

Don't you let him up if he's stewed.

He's drunk. I'm certain of it.

All night we've been dreading that he would arrive here under the influence.

It's such a relief that Gabriel is here.

I always feel easier in my mind when he's around.

Mrs. Conroy, may I introduce you to Mr. Bartell D'Arcy.

O, the celebrated tenor.

- Would you care to dance, Mrs. Conroy? - I'd be honored.

Fine, fine, fine, fine.

- Is... is my mother here? - She is.

- How do I look, do I look all right?

Disheveled.

Now you'll pass muster.

If you'll excuse me..

See, I've never been able to relieve me self in the presence of another...

Otherwise, I would have joined an army. Even as a child, me mother...

I understand, Freddy.

The same was true of my father before me,

When he went racing, he waited until the horses were running to go to the lavatory.

Anything under a mile, and he'd miss the finish.

He's not so bad, is he?

O no, no, barely noticeable.

Isn't he a terrible fellow! After his poor mother making him take the pledge on New Years Eve.

It's wonder he lasted six days.. if he did.

Tell me, what's that lovely waltz you were playing?

It's beautiful, isn't it? It's one of Moore's melodies.

I thought I recognized it.

There's no doubt that Moore's one genius of Irish music.

God help me, it's the doctor's orders.

O, now, Mr. Browne, I'm sure the doctor never ordered anything of the kind.

I'm like the famous Mrs. Cassidy, who is reported to have said:

"Now, Mary Grimes, if I don't take it, make me take it, for I feel I want it."

I don't suppose either of you two buckoes know what won the big race at Punchestown?

Well, Mrs. Malins,

- How are you getting along? - Fine, thanks, Mr. Conroy.

- Anything I can get you? - No, thanks, I'm grand.

My boy Freddy, is he here?

Yes.

How is he?

Is he all right?

He's nearly all right.

Is that bad?

O, he's not to be trusted out of my sight.

Two gentlemen and three ladies!

Here's Mr. Duffy and Mr. Egan.

Mr. Egan, will you take Miss Power?

Miss Furlong, may I get you a partner? Mr. Duffy?

- That'll just do now. - Three ladies!

O Miss Daly, you're really awfully good after playing for the last two dances,

- But really we're so short of ladies tonight. - I don't mind.

I suppose you enjoy living in Glasgow now?

Why wouldn't I? My daughter has a lovely little house there,

at the edge of the city,

just where the tram starts.

O, it's a great joy to me to be with the children.

How old are they now?

Little Bert's just raising 7,

Karen is 5,

Children are perfect of that age, as you know,

Indeed.

And I got my own little room there, on the ground floor.

Overlooking the garden.

So, I don't need to be climbing the stairs.

Have you heard the latest, about the old man Gallagher?

And the young one?

No, what they have been up to now?

See, her mother came up from the farm in Sligo,

And she brought with her this great big basket,

And she left it under a kitchen table.

When Gallagher came in by himself,

He thought he saw it move. What do you think she had in it?

- I have no idea. - See,

The sow has only farrowed the week before,

And it was the runt of the litter.

As they haven't had any children, she thought she'd bring them a piglet for company.

For the young one to practice on it, in the meantime.

Every year, my son-in-law takes us all on holiday.

For the fortnight, at the hotel in the highlands.

Where he can go fishing.

O, he's a great fisher all together,

He even ties his own flies, and one day, one day ...

He caught a fish!

O, the most beautiful big fish you ever saw!

The man at the hotel boiled it, for our dinner.

- How interesting. - I think the man said that it was a...

- I'll try to find Freddy for you, Mrs. Malins. - ... some sort of trout!

Can you imagine old man Gallagher with a piglet for company?

- Freddy. - What?

Your mother is looking for you. Now you should go in.

Into the valley of Death, Rode the six hundred.

Hello mother,

Where were you? We were supposed to meet for a tea at the Shelburn.

Sorry, I was detained.

What detained you?

- I was at the committee meeting. - Committee meeting,

Where was it, in Mulligan's pub?

Attention everybody!

As our Mary Jane has so many of her young and talented students her tonight,

I hope you'll all join with me in prevailing upon her,

to give us a small demonstration of her musical skills.

She plays the organ somewhere, doesn't she, Gabriel?

Yes, Haddington Road.

- What did I tell you? - Let's have an ol' jar.

Bravo!

Now, let us have a recitation.

Mr. Grace, would you beguile us again?

Forgive me, I have to perform.

Thank you, thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I had intended doing a comic recitation for you this evening,

But, I came across something recently,

That I would like very much to pass on to you.

It is called "Broken Vows".

It is late last night,

the dog was speaking of you;

the snipe was speaking of you in her deep marsh.

It is you are the lonely bird through the woods;

and that you may be without a mate

until you find me.

You promised me, and you said a lie to me,

that you would be before me

where the sheep are flocked;

I gave a whistle and three hundred cries to you,

and I found nothing there

but a bleating lamb.

You promised me a thing that is hard for you,

a ship of gold under a silver mast;

twelve towns with a market in all of them,

and a fine white court by the side of the sea.

You promised me

a thing that is not possible,

that you would give me gloves of the skin of a fish;

that you would give me shoes of the skin of a bird,

and a suit of the dearest silk in Ireland.

My mother told to me not to be talking with you

to-day, or tomorrow,

or on the Sunday;

it was a bad time she took for telling me that;

it was shutting the door

after the house was robbed.

You have taken the east from me;

you have taken the west from me;

you have taken what is before me

and what is behind me;

you have taken the moon,

you have taken the sun from me;

And,

and my fear is great

that you have taken God from me!

It's a translation from the Irish,

by Lady Gregory.

It's very strange, but beautiful.

I've never heard anything like it.

Very mysterious.

Imagine being in love like that.

I thought it was beautiful.

- It was lovely. - It would make a lovely song.

Yes Lily, what it is?

- Goose will be ready in half an hour, ma'm. - Very good

And ma'm, I just put fresh towels in the toilet.

Very good, Lily.

Now, back to the dancing! Lancers!

I think it's about time you had a dance, now come along with me.

I have a perfect partner for you.

Miss Ivors, I think you know my nephew.

He hasn't broken out of the box since he came through that door.

I rely on you to give him a little tap in the ribs.

I'll be delighted.

A good canter would do him good.

I have a crow to pluck with you.

With me?

- What is it? - Who is G. C.?

I have found out that you write for The Daily Express.

Now, aren't you ashamed of yourself?

Why should I be ashamed of myself?

Well, I'm ashamed of you, to say you'd write for an English rag like that.

I didn't think you were a West Briton.

What do you mean - a West Briton?

Someone who looks to England for our salvation,

Instead of depending on ourselves alone.

Why don't you come for an excursion to the Aran Isles this summer?

We're going to stay there a whole month.

It will be splendid out in the Atlantic.

You ought to come.

Mr. Clancy is coming,

Mr. Kilkelly, Kathleen Kearney.

It would be splendid for your wife too if she could come.

She's from that part of the world.

- Connacht, isn't she? - Her people are.

But you will come, wouldn't you?

- The fact is, I've already arranged to go.. - Go where?

- Well, every year I go for a cycling tour with some fellows.. - But where?

France or Belgium or Germany, perhaps.

Why do you go to France and Belgium instead of visiting your own land?

It's partly to keep in touch with the languages and partly for a change.

Haven't you your own language to keep in touch with - Irish?

O no, if it comes to that, you know, Irish is not my language.

Haven't you your own land to visit, that you know nothing of,

your own people, your own country?

To tell you the truth, I'm sick of my own country, sick of it!

Why?

Of course, you've no answer.

West Briton!

Ladies and gentlemen, we have gathered...

Gabriel. Aunt Kate wants to know won't you carve the goose as usual.

Miss Daly will carve the ham and I'll do the pudding.

Why did you stop dancing? What row had you with Molly Ivors?

No row. Why? Did she say we had?

No, I noticed you carrying on..

I'm trying to get that Mr. D'Arcy to sing. He's full of conceit, I think.

There was no row, she wanted me to go for a trip to the west of Ireland and I said I wouldn't.

O, Gabriel, do go, I'd love to see Galway again.

You can go if you like.

Attention, ladies and gentlemen,

My sister, Miss Julia Morkan, after much coaxing,

has consented to sing a song, one of our favourites,

from our concert days: "Arrayed for the Bridal".

Arrayed for the Bridal

by Bellini.

Arrayed for the bridal,

in beauty behold her

A white wreath entwineth

a forehead more fair

I envy the zephyrs

that softly enfold her

And play with the locks

of her beautiful hair

Arrayed for the bridal,

in beauty behold her

A white wreath entwineth

a forehead more fair

I envy the zephyrs

that softly enfold her

And play with the locks

of her beautiful hair.

I was just telling my mother,

I've never heard you sing so well,

No, I've never heard your voice so...

so, so -- good, as it is tonight.

Do you believe that now? That's the truth.

Upon my word and honour that's the truth.

I've never heard your voice so...

so clear,

so fresh,

Never!

You turn my head, all your compliments.

Miss Julia Morkan, my latest discovery!

Well, Browne, if you're serious you might make a worse discovery.

Because all I can say is,

I never heard her sing half as well,

as long as I am coming here. And that's the honest truth.

Neither did I, I think her voice has greatly improved.

Thirty years ago I hadn't a bad voice as voices go.

I often told Julia,

She was thrown away in that choir.

But she never would be said by me.

No, she never would be said or led by anyone,

slaving away there night and day, night and day.

Six o'clock on Christmas morning! And for what?

Well, isn't it for the honour of God, Aunt Kate?

I know all about the honor of God, Mary Jane.

I think it's very honorable of the pope

to throw the women out of the choirs that's been there for years,

slaving away, and put little whipper-snappers of boys over their heads.

I suppose it is for the good of the Church if the pope says so,

- But it's not right, and it's not just! - Now, Aunt Kate,

You're giving scandal to Mr. Browne who is of the other persuasion.

O, I don't question the pope's being right.

I'm just a stupid old woman and I wouldn't presume to do such a thing.

There is such a thing as common everyday politeness and gratitude.

And if I were in Julia's place,

I'd just tell that Father Healey straight up into his face...

And besides, Aunt Kate,

We really are all hungry and when we are hungry we are all very quarrelsome.

And when we are thirsty we are also quarrelsome.

So that we had better go to supper, and finish the discussion afterwards.

Will all the gentlemen please bring a chair!

- Molly! You are not leaving, are you? - Yes, I must.

But, you can't go before supper!

But I am not a least bit hungry, I assure you.

But only for ten minutes, Molly, surely that won't delay you.

- To take a pick itself after all your dancing. - I really can't.

If you really are obliged to go, I'll be glad to see you home.

I'm not going home,

- I'm off to a meeting. - What kind of a meeting?

A union one. At Liberty Hall.

James Connolly is speaking.

As you mean, the Republican meeting?

You are the comical girl, Molly.

You'll be the only woman there.

It won't be the first time.

Well, good night all. Beannacht libh! (Bless you all)

There's everyone waiting in here, stage to let,

- And nobody to carve the goose! - Here I am, Aunt Kate!

Ready to carve flock of geese if necessary!

Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts

which from thy bounty we are about to receive through, Christ, Our Lord.

- Amen. - Amen.

Miss Daly, what shall I send you?

Wing, or a slice of breast?

A small slice of breast, please.

Whose's this?

That's yours there.

O, thank you.

Miss Furlong,

What will you have?

Anything at all, Mr. Conroy.

Got to start eating immediately. That goose was not cooked to get cold standing in front of you.

Everything is absolutely delicious.

It's not too dry, is it?

It looks splendid, Miss Morkan.

Normally, I am not at all that partial to goose,

Usually it's so tough. But in this case, I take back all my former judgments.

You know that I have always preferes goose to turkey.

Turkey to me tastes like chicken soaked in water and wrung out.

The older we get, the more flavour we like.

Where's the apple sauce?

I'm sorry, there isn't any.

No apple sauce?

I told you we should have apple sauce.

Plain roast goose without apple sauce has always been good enough for me.

And I hope I may never eat worse.

That's right, Aunt Kate, stand up to your principles.

Will you and Aunt Julia sit down and have your supper?

Time enough, time enough.

Will you stop fussing around like a couple of broody hens?

Please, don't concern yourself about us. Please, just enjoy yourself.

How can we, when you're buzzing around like bees in a jam jar?

Come on, come on, sit yourself down,

And proclaim yourself queen,

Sit down.

Aunt Julia, you must sit down, you've been standing up far too long.

There we go now.

Do you think I could have the wishbone, Mr. Conroy?

Certainly.

- Must be a big wish you want to make. - It is.

I hope we are sharing the same wish.

Have any of you seen the new production at the Theatre Royal?

- I have, indeed, a number of us have. - What did you think of it?

It was so beautiful, I can't describe it.

My God! When you hear Rodolfo's aria... What it's called?

Che gelida manina

You hardly want to go on living.

It gave me goose pimples all down my arms.

What's it?

Your tiny hand is frozen.

Funny, I'm boiling.

Why don't you go over to the fireplace and warm them up?

Freddy, you have it all wrong.

- Sure if her hands are cold... - It's the name of the song.

What song?

What are you talking about?

- Explain to him, will you?

How many of you were there last night?

I was there five nights ago, for the opening.

Most of us were.

Well, you can count yourselves lucky.

I had a misfortune to go last night.

Beduschi was indisposed, and his understudy had to take over.

Need I to say it was the chance of the lifetime?

The sort of a thing a man dreams about.

And what happened?

How did he get on?

It wasn't his voice, which was moderate, a little bit thin and unsteady on top.

What then?

His diction is about as artistic as an auctioneer at the cattle fair.

Rough is not the word, it was brutal!

And this to project the greatest pearls to ever drift from the composer's pen.

With the sole exception of Verdi.

I've heard that Verdi's morals were dubious.

O very dubious, indeed.

Ah, but what a genius! And what respect the common Italian people had for him!

When he was dying, they covered the street outside his window with straw,

So he wouldn't be disturbed by the noise of their carts.

Would that have happened in Ireland?

O, I suppose not.

He would have been ruined by a woman, just like poor Parnell.

- When I had... - Gentlemen, please!

No politics.

Keep these discussions for your committee meetings.

Mr. D'Arcy?

What did you think of the other roles?

I must say, Madame Deveraux has a lovely timbre,

Great homogeneity of tone. How shall I put it?

She's an embrocation.

After all, she's our leading contralto.

I hope none of you experts will laugh at me, but do you know,

I found her style of production rather vulgar.

Have any of you been to the panto at the Gaiety?

Because now,

There is negro chieftain singing in a second part of it,

That's got one of finest tenor voices I've ever heard.

- You don't say? - I do!

I do.

Have you heard him?

Because now, I'd be curious

To hear your opinion of him.

- I think he has a grand voice. - Trust Teddy to find out

all the good things.

Why can't he have a voice too?

Isn't because he's only a black?

Why do you insist on calling me Teddy?

My name is Freddy, as you well know!

Theodore Alfred Malins,

First thing's first, I say,

Theodore, Teddy,

You know, one of my girls gave me a pass for Mignon,

Of course, it was very fine, but

Seeing it again made me think of poor Georgina Burns.

Burns... Yes, I remember! The young Scottish soprano,

She died very young, didn't she?

When I was just little girl.

Of pneumonia. Caught from not looking after her throat after singing.

Very tragic, very tragic.

Of course, I can remember even further back then that.

To the great days of bel canto,

When the old Italian opera companies used to come to Dublin.

Tietjens, Ilma De Murska,

Campanini, Ravelli,

Giuglini, Aramburo, the great Trebelli,

Those were the days,

Those were the days when something like singing was to be heard in Dublin.

The top gallery of the old Theatre Royal used to be packed, night after night.

And then, I recall on one occasion,

A young Italian tenor singing five encores

To "Let Me Like a Soldier Fall" and...

Introducing a high C every time.

Trust you to remember high C's always, Mr. Grace.

And then, of course, when some prima donna made a hit,

The gallery boys in their enthusiasm,

would unyoke the horses from her carriage,

and pull it themselves from the theatre to her hotel.

O God, be with the days.

I wonder why don't they play grand old operas now?

Dinorah, Lucrezia Borgia,

Because they don't have voices to sing them, that's why!

O, well, I presume there are as good singers to-day as there were then.

- Where are they? - In London, Paris, Milan,

I suppose Caruso, for example, is quite as good,

if not better than any of the men you have mentioned.

Maybe so. But I may tell you I doubt it.

O, I'd give anything to hear Caruso sing.

For me, there was only one tenor.

To please me, I mean.

O, I don't suppose any of you ever heard of him.

Who was he, Miss Morkan?

His name was Parkinson.

I heard him when he was in his prime.

I think then he had the purest tenor voice,

ever put into a man's throat.

Strange, I never even heard of him.

Haven't you, D'Arcy? Hmm...

Miss Morkan is right,

I certainly have heard of old Parkinson,

Though I never had a pleasure of listening to him.

The pure, sweet, mellow English tenor.

Excuse me, ma'm, the pudding is ready to be served now.

May I congratulate the chef?

Aunt Julia made it all by herself.

Miss Morkan, it is a work of art.

I was afraid it wasn't quite brown enough.

I hope I'm brown enough for you because, you see, I'm all brown.

Could I have the celery, please?

Thank you.

The doctor said it was the capital thing for my blood.

Wait 'till after the pudding.

I need something to deaden the taste.

Did Freddy tell you he's off to Mount Melleray in a week or so?

A retreat, isn't it?

I've heard the air down there is very bracing.

And the monks never even ask for a penny-piece from their guests.

They are very hospitable monks.

You'll be getting plenty of celery, down at Mount Melleray.

Do you mean to tell me that a chap can go down there,

and put up there as if it were a hotel and live on the fat of the land

and then come away without paying a farthing?

O, most people give some donation to the monastery when they leave.

I wish we had an institution like that in our Church.

The monks never utter a word, you know? And they get up at 2 in the morning.

What's more, they sleep in their coffins.

Why? Why?

- Because it's the rule of the order. - Yes, but why?

Because it's the rule, that's all.

But there must be some sort of logic behind it.

You know the doctrine that,

in the eyes of the church,

we can do penance for others.

This now is how father O'Rourke explained to me.

That by

gaining indulgencies,

remission of sins,

and therefore, the monks are trying to...

compensate

for all the sins

committed by all of the sinners,

in the outside,

external world.

You mean... ?

They are trying to get us all off the hook?

Well, on the last day,

Day of Judgment.

Including agnostics, atheists, heathens.. ?

As well as, as you so eloquently put it,

those of us of other persuasion?

I think so.

I'm all in favour of the idea,

I'd be idiot not to be,

like getting free insurance.

But,

wouldn't a comfortable spring bed

do them as well as a coffin?

They are very good men, the monks, very pious.

The coffin is to remind them of their last end.

Ladies and Gentlemen.

It is not the first time that we have gathered around

this hospitable board, as the recipients

or I had better say,

the victims -- of the hospitality

of certain good ladies.

Indeed, no tradition does our country more honor

then it's overwhelming hospitality.

Some might consider it a failing,

and if so, it is a princely one.

Ladies and Gentlemen. We are living in a skeptical,

and if I may use the phrase, a thought-tormented world,

where the values of the past are often at the discount.

But, it gives me joy, that under this one roof,

the spirit of good, old-fashioned, warm-hearted

courteous Irish hospitality, is still alive among us.

Long may it continue!

Hear! Hear!

And yet,

in gatherings such as this,

sadder thoughts will recur to our minds.

Thoughts of the past, of youth, of changes,

of absent friends that we miss here tonight.

But our work is among the living,

we must not brood our stoop to gloomy moralizing.

We have, all of us, living duties, and living affections,

which claim, and rightly, our strenuous endeavors.

Here we are met,

momentarily away from the bustle of our everyday routines,

in a spirit of good-fellowship,

in the true spirit of camaraderie.

And as the guests of --

what shall I call them?

the Three Graces of the Dublin musical world.

What did Gabriel say? What did he say?

He says we are the Three Graces, Aunt Julia.

Ladies and Gentlemen. I shall not attempt to play the part that Paris played

in ancient times,

to choose between them.

The task would be an invidious one and one beyond my poor powers.

For when I view them in turn, whether it be

our chief hostess herself, whose good heart,

whose too good heart, has become a byword with all who know her,

or her sister,

who seems to be gifted with perennial youth

and whose singing must have been a surprise and a revelation to us all to-night,

or, last but not least,

when I consider our youngest hostess,

talented, cheerful,

hard-working and the best of nieces.

I confess, that I do not know to which of them

I should award the prize.

Let us toast them all three together.

Let us drink to their health, wealth,

long life, happiness and prosperity.

may they long continue to hold the proud and self-won position they hold

in their profession,

and the position of honor and affection

which they hold in our hearts.

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

Which nobody can deny.

Unless he tells a lie,

Unless he tells a lie,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

Which nobody can deny.

O, look! It stopped snowing.

Our beds are going to be icy tonight.

I would get married just to keep warm.

Thank you, my dear. Succulent evening, as usual.

Aunt Julia, thank you for the lovely evening.

My grandmother's old gardener,

said in November it was going to be a hard winter.

How did he know?

The almanac,

and he said berries were very red on the holly,

and that there were a lot of them.

That means a hard winter.

The birds also.

I heard a lot of fieldfares and redwings passed through early.

Are you an ornithologist as well?

An amateur.

I suppose being a singer makes me susceptible to other creatures that sing.

And birds are the most beautiful singers of all.

Just think of the willow warbler, or the wren.

And in Italy, I heard wonderful birds.

The nightingale, of course.

Is it like in Ode of Mr. Keats?

Not at all.

Incidentally Gabriel, I've been meaning to ask you whole evening,

but I keep forgetting it.

- Have you finished marking the exams yet? - Almost.

Try and get them to me as quickly as you possibly can.

So that I can post the results at first of term.

First thing Monday morning.

Thank you, my boy, thank you.

Once again, good-night all!

We're really grateful for your hospitality, Miss Morkan.

It really was a treat.

Even better then last year, wasn't it, Freddy?

Was I here last year?

It was our pleasure. When do you go back to Scotland again?

On Monday. I never travel on the Lord's day if I can help it.

When do we have the pleasure of seeing you back in Ireland?

Perhaps when my son-in-law takes the family fishing.

During August, the midges in the highlands are exasperating.

Freddy, will you bring a chair?

That would be something for Freddy to look forward to, Mrs. Malins.

- Around the back there, Freddy. - Here we are!

Excuse me, ladies!

- Good-bye, Freddy! - Good-night!

- Good-night!

- He wasn't so bad this year. - O no.

You feel like a post stuck in the ground, Mr. Conroy.

Fine, strong man.

Fine.

I wish the same for my Freddy.

Freddy, will you go and get a cab. I'll look after your mother.

I'm on my way!

Can't help think of the pair of you as a boys,

Who would think there would be such a difference.

- Will you do me a favour, Mr. Conroy? - Of course.

- Will you keep an eye on him while I'm away?

I will, of course, Mrs. Malins.

He'll have every cab in Dublin out.

I think Freddy will never get married now.

Time to go, Mr. Browne.

Mr. Brown, wake up!

Time to go.

I found one! I've got a cab!

Good man, Freddy. You can take Mr. Browne on your way home.

I'll just ask my mother.

Is that all right? Browne has done the same for me,

- on the similar circumstances.

Way above our way home, and my leg is hurting me!

- Even so, mother, I owe it to him. - I wish you could get away from that man.

Put Browne in first,

I don't want to get kicked when you're sorting him out.

27 Munster Road, "Jordan's Barn".

Then head straight on for Rathmains,

- Excuse me, sir. - What?

How would I find that place?

You don't know how to get to Rathmains?

- No sir, nor the other place. - You're not a Dublin man, are you, driver?

Somewhere from the west of Ireland?

You're the grand man, sir, the Aran islands.

How well do you know Dublin? Or Baile Atha Cliath, as you call it over there?

Oh, my back!

Badly sir. As a matter of fact, I'm not really a cab driver.

Just helping the sister's husband to make a few extra bobs over the Christmas.

In fact, sir, I was lost when your honor found me.

How are you, mother, are you comfortable?

I am not!

Could you wedge a pillow under my knee?

I'll get the pillow inside.

It's not necessary, there's plenty pillows in here.

- Put one on the floor under my foot. - If the driver doesn't mind.

I'm sure they've been used for other purposes.

Ha, "Going twice around the park!"

You watch your tongue, Browne, in the presence of my mother. How is that?

O, it will do!

- Do you know where you are now? - Just about, sir.

Do you know how to get to Trinity College?

Trinity College...

I believe I do, sir.

Drive bang up against it's gate,

and I'll tell you where to go from there.

- Drive like a bird to Trinity College! - Right on, ma'm!

Come on!

You forgot your thingamajigs, Mr. Conroy.

- My goloshes, Lily, my goloshes. - Goloshes..

- Where on earth is that wife of mine? - I don't know, sir.

Gretta!

Gretta!

If you'll be the lass of Aughrim,

As I am taking you mean to be,

Tell me the first token,

That passed between you and me.

O don't you remember,

That night on yon lean hill,

When we both met together,

Which I am sorry now to tell.

The rain falls on my heavy locks,

And the dew it wets my skin,

My babe lies cold within my arms,

But none will let me in.

My babe lies cold within my arms,

But none will let me in.

O Mr. D'Arcy, we were in raptures listening to you.

He said he has a frog in his throat and couldn't sing.

- O, Mr. D'Arcy, what a fib. - Don't you annoy him, Mary Jane.

- I won't have Mr. D'Arcy annoyed. - Can't you tell I'm awful hoarse?

- Not in the slightest. - Not even in the highest registers?

It was the great privilege to hear you, no matter how grief.

One must be very careful in this weather, you see. It affects the vocal chords.

Indeed, remember what Mary Jane was saying about poor Georgina Burns.

Oh yes.

They say you never pass O'Connell Bridge without seeing a white horse.

I see a white man this time.

Did I ever tell you about Johnny, and King Billy's statue?

Who's Johnny?

The late lamented Patrick Morkan, my grandfather,

who was, as you know, a glue-boiler.

Your aunt said he had a starch mill.

Well, starch or glue...

He had a horse called Johnny. And Johnny used to work in the mill,

Walking round and round in order to drive the mill.

One fine day the old gentleman decided he'd like to drive out

with the quality to a military review in the park.

So he dressed himself out in his best, his best top hat, his best collar,

And off he went.

Everything went on beautifully until they came to King Billy's statue, and..

Whether Johnny fell in love with the horse King Billy sits on,

Or whether he thought he was back again in the mill,

He started to walk round and round the statue.

The old gentleman, he was highly indignant. He couldn't stop him.

He said: "Johnny! Johnny!"

"What's the matter with the animal? Can't understand the beast!"

"Most extraordinary conduct!"

And he had to get out and walk Johnny home.

Good-evening,

- What's the number? - 14, please.

Fourteen.

This way.

- You look tired. - I am a little.

- You don't feel ill or weak? - O no, tired. That's all.

- Poor Freddy Malins. - What about him?

Poor fellow,

If I had a mother like that, I suppose I would have taken to the drink too.

O no. You're far too responsible, Gabriel.

Tell me what you're thinking, tell me. I think I know what the matter it is.

Do I know?

O, I am thinking about that song, The Lass of Aughrim.

What about the song? Why does that make you cry?

I am thinking about a person long ago who used to sing that song.

And who was the person, long ago?

It was a person I used to know in Galway when I was living with my grandmother.

Someone you were in love with?

It was a young boy I used to know,

named Michael Furey.

He used to sing that song, The Lass of Aughrim.

He was very delicate.

I can see him so plainly,

Such eyes as he had,

big dark eyes.

And an expression in them,

an expression!

O, so you are in love with him?

I used to go out walking with him when I was in Galway.

Perhaps that was why you wanted to go to Galway with that Ivors woman?

What for?

How do I know? To see him, perhaps.

He's dead.

He died when he was only 17.

Isn't it a terrible thing to die so young as that?

What was he?

He was in the gasworks.

I suppose you were in love with this Michael Furey, Gretta.

I was great with him at that time.

What was it he died of so young?

Consumption, was it?

I think he died for me.

It was in the winter, about the beginning of the winter,

I was leaving my grandmother's house to come up to the convent in Dublin.

He was ill at the time in his lodgings in Galway,

wouldn't be let out.

And his people in Oughterard were written to.

He was in decline, they said, or something like that.

I never knew rightly.

Poor fellow. He was very fond of me.

He was such a gentle boy.

We used to go out walking together, you know, Gabriel?

The way they do in the country.

He was going to study singing only for his health.

He had a very good voice,

poor Michael Furey.

Well, and then?

When it came to the time for me to leave Galway and come up to the convent,

he was much worse, and I wouldn't be let see him.

So I wrote a letter saying I was going up to Dublin,

would be back in the summer,

and hoping he'd be better by then.

Then the night before I left,

I was in my grandmother's house in Nuns' Island, packing up,

I heard gravel thrown up against the window.

The window was so wet I couldn't see out,

so I ran downstairs as I was and slipped out the back into the garden.

And there was the poor fellow at the end of the garden, shivering.

Did you not tell him to go back?

I implored of him to go home at once,

and told him he would get his death in the rain.

But he said he did not want to live.

I can see his eyes as well, as well!

Did he go home?

Yes, he went home.

And after I was only a week in the convent he died.

He was buried in Oughterard,

where his people came from.

O, the day I heard that, that he was dead!

How poor a part I've played in your life,

it's almost as though I'm not your husband,

and we've never lived together as man and wife.

What were you like, then?

To me, your face is still beautiful,

but it's no longer the one for which Michael Furey braved death.

Why am I feeling this riot of emotion?

What started it up?

A ride in the cab?

When not responding when I kissed her hand?

My aunt's party? My own foolish speech?

Wine, dancing, music?

Poor Aunt Julia...

That haggard look on her face when she was singing Arrayed for the Bridal.

Soon, she'll be a shade too,

with the shade of Patrick Morkan and his horse.

Soon, perhaps, I'll be sitting in that same drawing-room, dressed in black,

The blinds would be drawn down, and I'd be casting about in my mind

for words of consolation.

And would find only lame and useless ones.

Yes, yes. That will happen very soon.

Yes, the newspapers are right:

Snow is general all over Ireland.

Falling on every part of the dark central plain,

on the treeless hills,

softly upon the Bog of Allen,

and, farther westward, softly falling

into the dark mutinous Shannon waves.

One by one we are all becoming shades.

Better pass boldly into that other world,

in the full glory of some passion,

than fade and wither dismally with age.

How long you locked away in your heart,

the image of your lover's eyes

when he told you that he did not wish to live?

I've never felt like that myself towards any woman,

but I know that such a feeling must be love.

Think of all those who ever were,

back to the start of time.

And me, transient as they,

flickering out as well into their grey world.

Like everything around me, this solid world itself,

which they reared and lived in,

is dwindling and dissolving.

Snow is falling.

Falling in that lonely churchyard where Michael Furey lays buried.

Falling faintly through the universe, and faintly falling,

like the descent of their last end,

upon all the living and the dead.

End - John Huston - The Dead (1987)