Original subtitles

Just three more seconds.

That's all for today, Duchess.

Thank God for that.

If I'm late with my old man's brape again, you'll skin me.

My dear Maggie, if it weren't for your modeling fees,

there might not be any grub for him.

Does he ever think of that?

Well, if he does, he keeps quiet about it, honey.

Oh, what's it to be tomorrow then?

The French Countess was storing the strand.

Don't they never think of nothing but knobs?

My dear Maggie, I don't write them. I merely illustrate them in between portraits.

So, again, though, isn't it? I'll just go and tidy up.

A lady to see you, sir.

Mrs. Louis of Bridge North. I don't know her, do I, son?

Not to my knowledge, sir.

Is she downstairs now? Yes, sir.

What's she like? I mean, she...

She has very good lace sound to her own carriage.

Oh, I'd better show her up then.

Yes, sir.

If you will be so good as to follow me, madam.

Mrs. Bridge North, sir.

Mr. Mallory.

If you value your gloves, Mrs. Bridge North, we shall not touch hands.

Won't you sit down?

I saw your remarkable portrait of the beautiful Mrs. Flora Dalling at your exhibition last month.

Oh.

And your no less remarkable portrait of the extremely plain, Mr. Dalling.

He was, of course, the greater challenge. Please do sit.

I glad you appreciated the challenge, Mr. Mallory. It's a challenge, I believe I brought you.

You may find my request a little odd.

Puh-puh-bizah.

Well, if you do, I'll be right.

I'll request a little odd. Puh-puh-bizah.

Well, if it's a portrait...

It is a portrait.

And then I shall consider it a challenge of the most pleasurable kind.

The portrait would not be at me.

Of your husband?

I have no husband.

Of whom, then?

Of no. Of anyone.

You see, I told you would find it bizarre.

Do you mean I am to choose my own sitter?

On the contrary, there is to be no sitter.

Who, then, is the portrait to represent?

An extremely handsome, distinguished man of not more than 30,

clean shave and superbly dressed, and a gentleman.

He is still hangover my chimney piece.

And where, my dear Mrs. Bridge North, am I to find this paragon?

If I am denied a sitter.

And your hand, Mr. Mallory. He is to be a work of the imagination.

I'm afraid I don't...

Oh, there is to be one other stipulation.

The portrait must be in the manner of a generation ago.

It must look old.

It must have the tone of time.

Mrs. Bridge North, I am afraid you do me too much flattery.

Oh!

You overestimate my capacities.

I am in that category of painter who is a mere recorder.

I paint the thing that I see and I paint it as it is.

I'm no skill in creating what I do not see.

But I thought an artist can...

I am a child of my time. Limited to my time.

I cannot reproduce a style that is gone even by generation.

You see how narrow my talents are.

Money is not an object, Mr. Mallory. It may cost what it will.

It's not a question of money, my dear lady.

The trick is simply not within my confidence.

I've returned only recently to this country.

I was told you were the coming man.

I know no one else to ask.

Mrs. Bridge North, if you will trust me,

I believe I do.

A good artist. It must be beautifully exited.

Oh, an excellent artist.

In fact, the only artist for you in the whole of London.

She specializes in what you call the tone of time.

She? The tone of time.

Well, it is your kind of thing, my dear.

Mary Treadic Magician of the Palette.

I really wonder, you know, why you don't go in for forgery?

And for someone who effortlessly stoles back through the centuries,

so may I, 20 or 30 years, would be nothing.

Oh, that part of it, yes, I can see.

But a face out of my head.

But you have so many in your head, Mary, my dear.

From all the museums you've haunted, all the great things you've studied,

if anyone in London can conjure up what Louisa Bridge North wants, then it's you.

Well, I don't quite understand. It's what she wants it for.

Well, it's only my guess, but I suspect it is to symbolize a husband,

who's not alive and perhaps never was.

She's just returned to London, you see?

Well, I get the impression she's lived abroad.

Her past is not clear.

I believe she's trying to build up her kind of substance for herself, a background.

Which the portrait is to be a part.

No, you can see the scene, can't you?

Portrait over the mantelpiece.

In the due course of time, the transfiguration will occur.

Who is that awfully handsome young man?

That? Oh, that's just an old sketch of my husband.

A long time ago, of course.

Is she respectable?

Oh, how you do go directly to the point. What can I say?

She may have had her adventures.

And if she has, she's obviously made them pay. I can hardly ask.

Can't imagine anyone asking Mrs. Bridge North anything remotely in Perth.

She's asked to be the sort of woman who is the creation of her own talents.

Well, she's clearly seen a great deal of life.

Do you suppose she's foreign?

Well, if French is perfect. But then says her English.

Do you think Bridge North is her real name?

My dear Sherlock, I have no idea.

Upon my soul, Mary, I've never known you prowl around a commission so in my life.

Are you expecting you to get up and bite you?

That's your idea, there never was a Mr. Bridge North.

Look, I don't know, and I don't particularly care.

Will you at least meet her?

No.

Then you won't take it on.

Well, neither I meet her in order to take it on.

Oh, no. Well, she's left it entirely in my hands.

I mean, it isn't as if she's going to describe anything to me.

She leaves it entirely to me. That's what you said.

Yes, it's. You have carte blanche. Oh, and 400 guineas.

Well, you can't tell your friend that I'm greatly obliged to you both and that I accept the offer.

Splendid, and you'll give him all of his good looks, hm?

That is my main reason for accepting my soul. Make him supremely beautiful.

He'll be the funnest gentleman you've ever seen.

I think I've touched a spring somewhere.

Now you can take me to tea.

No, all right.

I would have thought she might just like to have seen me.

And to appreciate the fact that I might like to see her.

I, uh, I think she felt it might put some constraint on her imagination.

And you did so want her to have complete freedom in that way.

Yes, I suppose that's true.

You'll see her when it's finished, so when you collect the portrait.

And when I pay her, I suppose.

Will she take very long?

No, no, I don't think so.

She seemed very excited.

Oh, she isn't enthusiastic about it then.

All about the whole idea. It seemed to strike her very powerfully.

Is, um, a Mrs. Tredix husband alive?

No, no, he died out in India.

Well, did she wonder why I did want such a picture?

Not really.

He's to go there.

You do see how much both the room and I need him.

How soon do you think?

Oh, uh, I don't think it'll be long.

I think you should leave her at least two or three weeks.

As I say, she is in a ferment.

But even that process takes a little time.

Major and Mrs. Monack.

They apologize if they're disturbing you, sir, but they are most anxious to see you.

You better show them in then.

Yes, sir.

Major and Mrs. Monack, sir.

We come from Mr. Yves.

Ah, I clearly recommend it.

Said you were the right one.

I tried to be when people wished to be paid.

Yes, sir. We should like to be here.

Won't you sit down?

Thank you. Thank you.

Did you have any particular theme or setting in mind?

Well, we rather thought we'd leave that up to you.

I suppose that'd be, uh, various settings, would they?

Well, it's best if it's appropriate, of course.

In the best portraits, the setting always complements the setter.

We rather thought, um, gun roams.

Yes, palaces.

And balls in the gutter.

The glorious twelfth.

Queen Charlottism.

Ball.

Yes, yes, they're a little unexpected.

But I suppose I could do something with one of them.

Why not all?

Why not?

Do you mean to sit together?

That would be double, I suppose.

Well, naturally, there is a higher charge for two figures than for one.

We should like to make it pay.

Oh, that's very good of you.

We mean for the illustrations.

Mr. Reeve said you might be able to, uh, use us.

Oh, I see.

You mean, what you're saying is that you want to be models.

Mr. Reeve told us that you were quite exclusive in your work for publishers and magazines,

and I thought, that is, we thought, well, you do often have to depict ladies and gentlemen.

Oh, yes, but...

Well, I don't actually know what you're saying.

I don't actually...

You see, art is as deceptive in that as in everything else.

By some strange alchemy, I drape a piece of velvet over a scrap of an East End girl,

and she becomes a duchess.

You do see.

I'm sorry.

But, um, Shirley, sir, the real thing.

We have been much involved in amateur dramatics.

Before I left the army and had the misfortune to lose our money.

My husband has tried everything.

Uh, I'll do so, uh...

Isn't a confounded job I haven't applied for.

Waited for.

Prayed for.

Well, you can imagine we'd have had to be pretty desperate first.

Secretary ships, that sort of thing.

Might as well ask for a peerage.

Might be anything, but they just won't look at you.

There are thousands as good as oneself already on the floor.

Gentlemen who've drunk their wine and kept hunters.

For beggars.

Look, I'll tell you what.

Why don't I try a couple of sketches and we'll see how it goes from there, hmm?

What a sensible idea. Why not?

Leave me your card, and I'll be in touch in a few days.

Mr Mallory.

It's done, no. It's finished.

So he says...

He's insisted on being a likeness, see?

He's not out of your head then.

Yes, so in the sense that I've had him there all these years and during the course of the last four weeks.

I let him out.

The circumstances practically dictated that it had to be he.

Who?

If I was to do the most beautiful man in the world, it could be but one.

And before I go quite mad with impatience, may I please see him.

Oh.

Mmm.

Mary, it's magnificent.

I feel the force of the man as he was.

You feel some of it.

And you did this without aids of any kind?

Depends what you mean.

Well, no, sketch is studied.

I destroyed them years ago.

But you did once have them.

I once had everything.

It's all memory then.

It's all hate.

Hate.

But Mary, the vitality, the passion, that's not hate.

You had that all.

Do you know what I think?

I think it's too good for its purpose.

It's the best thing you've ever done.

It's absurd to put it to the service of a lady who simply wants a posthumous husband.

A clever piece of hundug would do as well.

The pictures served its purpose.

I've worked it out of me and it's helped.

It's to see him stuck up there in the wall.

There's a piece of windowbressing for some poor, socially minded widow.

That's just the kind of absurd and humiliating fate I cause a wish for.

Let him go and be Mr. Bridgnell.

Mr. Bridgnell.

When may I tell Mrs. Bridgnell, she can come and see her late lamentate.

I feel like an undertaking.

Or a bomb.

Yes.

Then when may she come?

She can't.

But you said she could have him.

Well, she can, but I don't want her to come here.

Do you mean you still don't want to meet her?

But why?

Well, it isn't if I'm going to alter anything in the picture for her.

But you might want you to.

She'll adore him as he is.

Well then.

Well, what the doost you want me to do?

Well, I'll have a friend.

And then James, would you mind very much having it taken around to your place?

Letting her see it there.

That's what you want.

Women.

And furthermore, and even more so, women artists.

Sheesh.

You keep admirably still, Mrs. Moneck.

I was quite used to being photographed when I was younger.

Look, would you try to give me a little more looseness?

A little easiness.

No, no.

Try not to feel as if you're on show.

Let's relax.

That's it.

Try to feel as if you're in your own home.

Relax.

Relax.

Relax.

Remason, something about you're doing the illustrations for a completely edition of Dickens.

Yes.

If the public is like my examples.

Perhaps we could be in for the series.

That is if you like to ask.

Major, Mrs. Moneck.

I'm afraid.

It's not a question of whether I like you.

It's the treacherous laws of art.

Do they like you? Do they fave you?

Don't you control there?

Well, you've had what?

Four sessions? Five.

I thought at first it was me.

Not being able to capture your style.

Learning how to work you, but...

It's no good.

You see, you are superb.

You are the real thing.

But you're intractable. You won't mold.

The cheating, foxing stuff of art is just not in you.

I'm sorry.

So you can't use us?

We don't get the Dickens edition.

I'm sorry.

Well, perhaps there's something else.

Something not quite so mighty, perhaps, something you couldn't.

It's been very kind of you to persevere with us as you have done.

But, Mary?

Yes.

See?

See?

Now, I owe you for what? Four sessions?

Oh, no.

Oh, no, please, I insist.

Perhaps a check.

My husband.

You have our card.

And, uh, if anything should occur to you.

Yes, indeed.

Who is the model for that?

Oh, that was Maggie.

Little cockner girl, I use.

Oh, Saunders. I'll be up in a moment.

Yes.

I'm so sorry.

You do understand?

We do. Thank you again, Mr. Mary.

Goodbye.

Of course we do. Good bye.

So, on good earths.

Yeah, it is good, isn't it?

Remarkable resemblance, sir.

Dohun?

Of Paul Viscosa.

Visca?

He works in the orchestra pit at Collins' music hall, sir.

Would there be anything else, sir?

No, no, thank you.

Sir.

Paul Viscosa, eh?

Mrs. Bridgnell, sir.

Mrs. Bridgnell.

I may say, Mr. Mallory, that I find your lady portrait painter more extraordinary by the arm.

There is strange breed, madam.

Well, just a client to meet me beforehand.

I can perhaps understand. There was nothing I could...

Sure.

I think that's what Mrs. Treadick felt.

Oh, but to, uh, persistent her isolation after the work is done,

it can only be either bad manners or a lack of confidence in her results.

I think it's that's a question of manners than the kind of personal reserve.

I can assure you that nerve-fences intended towards you personally.

As to her results, you must judge for yourself.

Saunders!

There's no conceivable possibility in my pretending I'm...

That you've just happened to faint for no reason in the world?

Not a chance, I'm afraid.

Well, I, gentlemen, that you see you're not dealing with painters and people like that.

You knew him, didn't you?

He's too magnificent.

Mrs. Bridgnell.

But how did she know?

I'll tell you how did she... if you tell me how did you?

Well, it's simply the one face in all the world that I would have wanted painting,

if I'd known how to ask.

Now then, how did she know?

It's quite easy. She didn't.

You mean she just painted him out of the air?

Oh, no, no, she knew him all right. But she didn't know you did.

Oh, I realize she knew him. He's there to the life.

What I find hard to accept is that it's a coincidence.

Oh, these things do happen, you know.

I give you my word of honor that she doesn't know about you or your connection with him.

Oh, which brings me to something I wish to know.

Who the devil was he?

You mean she hasn't told you?

Not a word.

Then I shan't either.

You really are two of the most aggravating ladies a man could possibly meet on a day as much.

Oh, Mrs. Bridgnell, I'm so sorry.

It's all right. It's just the likeness.

It's beyond anything. It's magnificent.

Then you're suited.

Oh, suited.

Oh, good. I'll tell my friend.

Please, I have a particular favour to ask.

What is it?

By all means teller, I'm suited. You can even say I'm delighted.

Please promise me you'll say nothing else. Nothing about my recognising him.

But why?

Because if you do, she will not let me have the picture.

Why should she behave like that?

For an extent you'll realise how much I'm acquainted.

Look, I know you ladies are contrary, but I can assure you that my friend is not that kind of dog in a man.

Oh, she'll reflect. She'll put two and two together.

She'll be jealous.

What?

She'll hate me.

Why should she do that?

I know she didn't like him, but...

I know she did.

But she said he was bad.

Then what was she?

Mrs. Bridgnell forgive me, but you speak as if you know her.

I do know her. Not in the way you mean her.

I know hers. I know all the silly creatures used to flock around him.

We got used and discarded moves.

Infatuation then turned to hate.

My friend is not at all a silly creature.

Twenty-thirty years on now. Do you know what she was like then?

And what of you?

Were you a silly creature?

I was too amatted him.

Well, why didn't you?

Circumstance is prevented.

What circumstance?

Well, they're not relevant.

Now what is relevant is that I remember how I felt when he made me jealous.

That wonderful picture was painted with rage.

Which means that she can still be jealous.

If she learns what the picture means to me, I know Al have lost it.

So much so that I have a proposal for you.

What is it?

If you promise me to keep silence, I'll double your friend's fee.

Eight hundred guineas.

I was about to make the same suggestion myself.

For different reasons.

Oh, what?

Because you got much more than you bargained for.

Mm-hmm.

It's understood then, on your oath as a gentleman, I double the fee and you say nothing.

Very well.

And when may I send for it?

Well, I shall be seeing her before dinner tonight.

Shall we say early tomorrow?

Early tomorrow.

I'll send you my check as soon as I get home.

Oh.

Eight hundred guineas after we agreed the fee in advance.

Why, Denny, I like that.

My dear girl, you're entitled to it.

You contracted to do a decorative trifle and instead you produced a breathing masterpiece.

Is that what she calls it?

No, it's not what she called it. It's what I call it.

She's just very pleased with it, that's all.

What does she know?

She knows she wants it.

She's willing to pay twice as much as we agreed for.

Yes, she's sending the check round this evening.

What before she's even got the picture?

She's sending for that tomorrow.

Well, it's little enough for any woman to pay for her husband, a little innocent perb one you've given her.

Your goodness, that's what I have given her. Her husband?

Let's just say you've given him a wife.

Now, look, I really must go. I'm late for dinner already.

You.

Oh.

Morning, Saunders.

Good morning, sir.

Ah, the post.

The breakfast is ready, sir.

Good.

Oh, Saunders?

Yes, sir.

What time did Mrs. Bridge North collect her pending, that's right?

Mrs. Bridge North, sir.

Bridge and also.

No, it wasn't Mrs. Bridge and also.

It was your painter friend, Mrs. Treddy.

What?

She had a hack me waiting, sir, and I come to know that.

Mr. Valerie.

What on earth are you playing at?

I take me in bed.

For heaven's sake, what?

Well, there's something about it all.

I don't understand.

What don't you understand?

It started to work in me as soon as you left me last evening.

Her doubling the fee like that, her anxiety to get hold of the painting.

Well, it's just her way.

She's like that.

She's impulsive and patient.

It's hardly surprising she should fall in love with him.

Fall in love?

Well, certainly what woman wouldn't.

In any case, you have no right to back out now.

Well, I won't back out if you will answer me a question.

Did she say she knew him?

Well, she certainly didn't name him to me.

It's come to me.

She must know him.

It would account for so much the strange way I feel.

I see him set up there in your studio.

And she faced to face with him.

Quivering to claim him she never could in real life for her husband.

Oh, so you've decided you know Mrs. Bridgnell, have you?

Well, there were thousands of Mrs. Bridgnells.

They spread themselves like an endless carpet at his feet.

And the Mary of Treadix, did they spread themselves?

We were engaged to be mad.

Why weren't you then?

That's not important, now.

Keep pleased, Miss.

There's a lady to see Mr. Mallory.

She says she called at his lodgings and his man told her he was here.

Her name's Mrs. Bridgnell.

Well, I could hardly say I'm not, now could I?

Oh, well, all right, Jim, I'm sure up.

Well, she's still not having him.

But why if you hate him so much, do you mind her having him?

Because I believe she is one of the reasons why I hate him.

Also, she's not one in a thousand then.

She's a particular one.

From her pursuit of you here, which I find to be typical.

Yes, she is a very particular one.

Mrs. Bridgnell.

It is you.

I felt it must be Mary Parker.

The very little thing forever drifting around Como with her sketching pad and water color case.

Well, I remember you two.

Louisa Bonham.

The governess who is always more at home with the fathers than the children.

I don't know what gives you the right to be offensive.

Miss Meeting is not of my choice.

You're a man.

I simply came for my property.

Your property?

He's no more yours now than he was then.

Mr. Mallory, I entered into her business transaction.

I performed my part of it by sending you my check last night.

When I came to take delivery of the goods this morning, I found they'd been such back.

I looked to you, sir.

Business transaction, delivery of the goods.

Whoever was who lent you the name Bridgnell, it's obvious he was a shopkeeper.

Strike's me. It's pretty much of a shop.

You keep yourself.

Ladies, please, Mary Louisa.

Look, I am quite willing to arbitrate.

There's nothing to arbitrate about. I choose not to sell my paint.

You have sold!

As I say, I am quite willing to arbitrate, but I insist that tempers are cooled.

I'm perfectly cool.

Sell my.

But before I do so, there's a great deal I must be told.

The alternative is that I wash my hands of the whole affair, walk out and leave you two, stranded like two beach turtles.

One turtle.

One whale.

Since I'm obviously not going to get even common courtesy here, and common courtesy was all I expected, I have nothing further to say.

From this point is a matter for my solicitor. Goodbye.

Mrs. Bridgnell's good.

Well, she can call the Lord Chancellor for all I care.

But is there anything she can do with her talk of solicitors?

I don't know. The thickets of the law are a mystery to me.

But since you landed me in this, I demand to know the whole story.

I shall take a luncheon at rules, and in return I expect nothing less than a full confession.

Why, I'm not dressed for lunch.

Oh, it was one of those magical summers at Como.

The lake had that blue one, you know, the kind of blue one can never quite catch.

I was in Italy studying.

Leopoldo was a violinist.

He was only at the beginning of his career, but already he was one of the most distinguished virtual songs.

What was he doing in camera?

Oh, he was giving a series of concerts.

Oh, with his violin.

And his eyes looking hot under those brows, so he looked like a fallen angel.

His concerts were back to the doors and the syllogon.

Oh, of whom you were not monoclon.

What life?

He happened to catch my eye.

I thought a swami missed note his eyes kept coming back to me.

Next day, I happened to see him quite by chance, practicing on the tellers of his villa.

How extraordinary.

Now, how did you just happen to do that?

Well, I was interested in more as a subject, those bones.

I asked if I could sketching my practice.

So you applied your separate arts as it were together?

How very romantic.

Wasn't romantic at all? It was very hard work.

I couldn't quite catch the expression. I had to go back day after day.

Night after night.

Well, he had so many women after him.

I think he found it rather relieved to be with one of the boys in chase.

I'm sure he did.

Then, one day, we realised we'd fallen in love.

Came as a complete surprise to us both.

Yes, of course it would.

I mean, a handsome young man and a pretty young girl, spending all their time together.

Falling in love would be the last thing they'd expect.

James, I did not chase.

My dear Mary, I never said you did.

Oh, we were in seven.

Heaven, I was supposed to go back to Florence and study, but I didn't.

Oh, it was beautiful.

I did it.

Then the British world broke in in the shape of little Louisa Bonham,

not known as Mrs. Bridgenorth.

The moment she saw it, she marked him down.

Wherever he turned, there she seemed to be.

I did my best to protect him, but I couldn't be there all the time.

I'm sure he did your best.

Well, Leopolda thought the best thing to do would be to announce our engagement,

then she'd have to leave us alone.

Leopolda thought that.

Yes, but I didn't want her to be able to be pushy.

So I wouldn't let you announce her.

But you were unofficially engaged.

Mm, yeah.

People were very romantic.

He wanted us to be a good friend.

He wanted us to run away and get married in the little chapel in the hills.

So we named the day.

We planned it all very carefully.

Oh, what went wrong?

He ran off with pushy little Louisa Bonham.

What?

I was left alone in the rendezvous in the hills.

I finally returned to Como he'd gone.

So had Louisa Bonham.

I left the next day.

I never saw either of them again.

She obviously ruined its career.

He never became famous.

What a tragedy.

Which is one of the reasons.

Why?

She has as much chance of getting that painting as I have a becoming the Archbishop of Bon Bé.

Thank you for a most delightful lunch, and Jane.

She come along sweetest pie not long after you're gone.

She come in a big broom with a footman.

But what did she say?

Well, she said she'd come to pick up the painting as a range with you.

A footman carried it out.

Well, all right, Jemima, it's not your fault.

Well, she hasn't changed.

That woman has not changed one millimeter, but this time she's gone too far.

This is theft.

I think I shall speak to the police.

No, no, I don't think you should do that.

Now, let me speak to her first.

Oh, no, no, one ever got anywhere with Louisa Bonham by talking.

Well, at least let me try.

I mean, if this thing gets out, it's most embarrassing for both of you.

Well, she's the one who go to Holloway.

What on earth possessed you?

You did gorgeous.

Isn't he gorgeous?

Wasn't I right about what he does for this room?

What he does for me?

You realize you have committed a criminal act.

Robbish!

Picture is bought and paid for.

Even if it weren't, even I hadn't paid a penny for it.

She owes it to me for what she did to me.

What did she do to you?

Would you really like to know?

Well, yes.

Have dinner with me tonight at Rules.

I'll tell you the whole story.

Must it absolutely be Rules?

Absolutely.

Very well.

I'd just arrived in Como with the family I worked for.

The whole resort was talking about this brilliant new young pianist,

Leopoldo Visconti.

He was giving a series of concerts.

I make a pardon. You did say pianist.

That's right.

Oh, yes.

Exquisite hands.

He was obviously destined for a brilliant future.

When he sat at the piano, there's magic fingers, casting spells.

Well, women fainted at some of his concerts.

Paganini had the same effect, I'm told.

He, of course, was a violinist.

One night after a concert, one of my little charters, little Charlotte,

she decided she wanted Leopoldo's signature.

How old was she?

She was three.

Three?

I see.

So, of course, you had to get it for her.

Well, I took the child with me, of course.

Of course.

There are positive hordes of stupid clamoring women outside his door.

But none of them had an energetic little child with three, who wanted a mister of signature.

Exactly.

Oh, he was kindness itself.

All the talents and door children, of course.

Well, I spoke very good at Adam in those days, but he had very little English,

so it seemed perfectly natural that he should ask me to give him English lessons.

English lessons.

Well, of course, that necessitated seeing rather a lot of him.

Oh, yes, it would.

I don't know if you've noticed about languages,

but they do create the most extraordinary intimacy between teacher and pupil.

Well, we should have known what would happen.

We never cared to you.

Well, these things don't happen suddenly.

One knows that.

They blossom slowly.

Still, it did seem to us that we'd been hit by a thunderbolt.

He would play, leave a storm by the ark.

We really did drift about in a dream of life.

Until?

Until that female cossack, Mary Parker, turned up,

using our pencils like lances in a sketch pad like a battering ram.

Oh, dear.

At every turn in the pot behind every tree she lurked.

Scripple, scribble, scribble.

Turn your head this way, Leopoldo.

Turn it that way, Leopoldo.

I suddenly knew what it was like in the garden of Eden when the serpent arrived.

What did Leopoldo think about this?

Oh, he was the gentlest and capable of being rude to anyone.

I mean, she forced herself upon him.

After all, I couldn't exactly behave like a jailer.

Of course not.

I knew he'd realize that as soon as we got engaged,

as soon as she would have to go away.

And he did realize it.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, he did.

He finally agreed that it was the best thing to do.

We eloped to a little village across the lake.

I went ahead to make the arrangements while he stayed in Komo to tidy up his affairs.

How very romantic.

He never arrived.

Eight o'clock at night, I dragged myself back to Komo to find he'd run away with a female cossack.

Mary?

Can there be two groups like her in the world?

Are you very sure about this?

Well, he disappeared from Komo and so are she.

I never heard another word about either of them.

Evidently he didn't marry her.

She probably killed him, poisoned him with a pinc or something.

What I say is, possession is nine tenths of the lo-

Ah!

I simply played her own trick back at her.

I told her servants I needed to have the picture in order to make a few slight alterations.

You realize this is the kind of game they must play in hell?

I mean, this could go on forever.

By legal process or by stealth, she will get back at you, you will get back at her.

She can come at me with lawyers or come near to goons. I painted that in bitterness. I'm keeping it in joy.

Why not paint another one? One of your marvellous copies. Then you'd both have to.

Oh, that wouldn't serve at all.

Oh, I see. So the joy is not in having him, but in depriving her.

Oh, you can think that if you like.

I'm so sorry.

It's all right, my most.

Very clever, James.

You take me out of dinner.

Rule?

Rule?

While she steals the paint.

My dear Louis, a dinner if you recall was at your suggestion.

The last thing I want is to be mixed up in all this.

Well, I've come to take it back. So if you don't mind.

If you don't leave my house at once, I will call the police.

If you don't release my property, I shall call the police.

Ladies, please.

Your word is suffragely forward, creature.

We're selfish then, and you're selfish now.

Please. Now, Mary. Mary.

Louisa.

Now, look, I have a suggestion.

Let me be custodian of the picture for the time being.

How will that help?

Well, if neither of you have it, neither of you curiously enough will feel deprived.

Very cynical.

Meanwhile, I am feeling my way to a kind of judgment of Solomon.

What way?

Well, the outlines are dim at the moment, and it may well come to nothing.

But at least let me try.

Thank you, Saunders.

Oh, Saunders?

Yes, sir.

When you first saw that picture, you said it reminded you of someone.

Yes, sir. Paul Viscosa.

Have you any idea where I might locate him?

That's rather difficult to say, sir.

As I said, he used to work in the orchestra pit at Collins.

But I hadn't seen him there for some time, sir.

Did he?

I could make inquiries as to his whereabouts if you wish, sir.

Would you do that?

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Stop it.

You're going to be a best of luck.

You're not scared, man.

You're the wrong bombing.

You're right.

What should you smell the colon?

It's your long bombing.

Uh, yes, sir.

What can I ask?

Excuse me.

Am I addressing Mr. Paul Viscosa?

Yes.

And am I also addressing Signor Leopolde Visconti?

Yes.

How do you know of me?

Ah.

You have seen me work.

Saunders, my tale is quickly.

Yes, sir.

I have to be back in the East and in 20 minutes.

Sir, major and Mrs. Monique are upstairs, sir.

What are they?

What do they want?

Oh.

Look, I'm awfully sorry, but...

Saunders!

Mr. Murray!

If, as you say, it's all illusion.

Well, there are as many lower class characters and Mr. Dickens as ladies and gentlemen.

Bill Sikes!

Het your service.

And say, Mrs. Gamp.

It could work.

It could.

Yeah.

Look, I'm in a terrible hurry at the moment.

Could you possibly come back tomorrow, say about four o'clock, huh?

No, I'm not.

Sorry, Dad!

Being transported to Camden Town of this hour is not what I have in mind when I agreed to put myself in your hands.

I have nothing to say.

For the moment.

There.

Premises downstairs.

They were a public house, if I'm not listening.

You're quite right.

They were.

I'm surprised you didn't show us into the public, but...

I would have done.

But our host felt we'd be more comfortable here.

Who on earth is our host?

If you don't mind, I'd prefer him to answer that himself.

Ah!

Louise!

Marie!

Louise!

How wonderful to see you.

Oh, I do hope you forgive me.

Forgive me, Belle.

A million parlons, my little flower.

I have thought about you so much.

I wonder about you.

Is this place yours?

Yes.

Isn't it wonderful?

You're a public.

I prefer inky, but as you please.

You're finally.

She means your piano.

Couldn't make me to know what I mean.

Ah!

Champagne!

For such an occasion, only the best will do.

Please, Mr. Ma.

Sir, sir.

Ah!

Ah!

Whoa!

Hey, you're me.

I've been to job this year.

Ah!

There you go.

Hey!

Say that all the way.

Carisima!

Tocomo!

Kewe!

Mmm!

To our youth.

Well, to your youth, I was not so young.

Oh, you were?

You were the young Paganini?

She means Chopin.

What happened to it all?

The success, the concerts.

The concerts?

Oh, Louisa Maria.

I am older than you.

And I am a peasant.

My memory is better than yours.

And without mercy.

The concerts took place in the lounge.

How do you call it?

The tea lounge of the Hotel Bellini.

Oh, what does it matter?

Where?

I was leader of the resident quintet.

We played during tea, during dinner, after dinner, morning coffee.

Sometimes I play the solos, sometimes I play the violins, sometimes I play the piano, sometimes declaring it.

I can play anything.

It's a trick.

Musicians despise it.

It means nothing.

Please, Leopoldo, don't despair at yourself.

I don't.

Little Louisa, believe me.

I don't.

I practice it certain pieces.

I don't.

I don't.

I don't.

I don't.

I don't.

I don't.

I don't.

I practice it certain pieces until I could play them well.

And with the lake, the skies, the mountains, all the magic of Italy to help me, I was a lion.

And I gobbled up little English girls for breakfast.

Is that all I was to you just another little English girl?

Oh, no, no, no.

You were the different ones.

You were my downfall.

Downfall.

You both had such force.

You, Maria, with your crayons, and you, Louisa, with your books of grammars, so brave.

Books of grammars, so beautiful, and so determined, and both are so jealous of each other.

Oh, I was never jealous.

Ah, you were the different ones.

Always before I was in control.

But now I was on the run, but I adored you both.

You adored me.

Pay no attention to her.

I was like a juggler.

I managed to keep both plates in the air.

Now we're plates, are we?

For quite a long time.

And then, you both are proposed to me.

Oh, that's proposed.

I never had one.

I don't know what she did.

I was the director.

Ah, ah, ah. You both are proposed to me, passionately.

I did not dare to say no to either of you.

I was terrified what you might do to each other, and to me.

You make a sound like she wants.

Ah, but such beautiful ones.

I tried everything I could to keep you happy.

I invented excuses, reasons, little fantasies.

But you were both implacable.

So what could I do?

I arranged it to meet you both on different sides of the lake.

At I...

I ran away to America.

But in America, I went in for what they call...

Vodeville.

I was the man who could play anything.

Of course, my name was too long, a pole of his country.

So they shortened it to Paul Visco.

I was very successful.

But after some years, they became tired of me.

So I came to London.

And that was when I bought my pub.

Oh, I went to Colin's musical and told him who I was.

But they weren't interested in my act.

But for all time's sake, they let me play in the orchestra.

You ruined your life.

Oh, no.

You couldn't be the great virtuoso.

Oh, I found my lover.

If I had been the short and fat and ugly, I would not have got even so far.

Leopolder.

Leopolder, as I explained, it is a question of the picture.

Ah, you must adjudicate.

You painted the piece.

Yes.

Now you, Maria.

You have a real talent.

I kiss your hand.

As I say, it is a complicated story.

The question is, will you two accept Leopolder's decision?

Maria.

Yes.

Louisa.

Yes.

Benissimo.

Now, do you know who I think really deserves this,

this tremendous picture?

My wife.

No wife?

You both remember me as I was at my best.

She has had to put up with the real man.

Oh, when did you get married?

Teresa.

Oh, you remember Teresa.

The chambermaid at the Hotel Bellini.

Teresa.

Oh, man.

Here are some dear friends from the old days in Como.

Ah, Como.

See, I remember.

Echola.

Oh, but this is you as a younger man.

Even if he is a, is me like a super-entidant.

Christ, I don't know.

I believe she wishes to give it to your...

Oh, my God.

It's not her to give, I wish to.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

It is this lady who wishes to give.

Oh, my God.

She always has been.

Your common little door bag.

This painting is my painting.

My painting.

My painting.

Louisa.

Look, you are having very bad.

I have a very bad painting.

This is also very, very media.

Louisa.

I have a very, very, very, very...

It's 100 kilnies.

It's 100 kilnies.

Please.

Please.

Please.

My beautiful ones.

You tear my heart for the sake of all that we had together,

for the magic of Como that we shared,

for the memories that I hold in my heart.

Will you please not allow me to feel that this is a gift from both of you?

It would make me such happiness.

Oh, please, please say yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Oh, a million tranques.

You are both magnificent as ever.

Whenever I look at this picture, I will think of you both.

And now, I live a dirty.

My little rose.

I live a dirty.

My other rose now.

We are immortal.

We three.

Ah.

I live a dirty.

My beautiful ones.

The music behind you must have been a massacre.

It's quite simple then.

Now that you have both agreed to a joint gift,

you marry, except the fee from Louisa, and give half of it back.

Agreed?

Yes.

Yes.

Why don't we stop off at my house and do it well?

It won't be better to go to mine.

I have my checks there.

But I've got your check already sitting on my table.

That check is made out to Mr. Mallory.

I wouldn't do it at all.

Of course it makes me happy.

I want to check the final ones.

The music behind you must have been a

wonderful one.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.

I want to check the final ones.