Original subtitles

Once a beautiful young girl lived in a very cold house in Scotland.

The house was cold because someone's grandfather killed himself there.

One day the grandson came to visit the house ...

he thought the beautiful young girl was an angel, come down to earth.

The grandson worked very hard.

He read, and thought, and drew, and wrote.

He wrote a fairy story, just for her.

She was twelve years old.

Her mother and father were kind, but his were wicked.

When she grew up, he married her.

- Come now. - You can't marry him.

Why not? When I love him so much.

He's rich and famous, and I'll never see you again.

Oh, away with you! You'll come and stay in London.

In London, Sophie, I'm leaving dreary old Scotland at last.

And you'll follow...

we'll go to parties in beautiful yellow dresses...

And we will dance with musicians, poets and great artists,

who'll want to paint your picture.

- Really? - Yes, really.

It's going to be so exciting. Come on ...

We need more leaves for our pillows.

Can my dress be pink?

Nature must rule every stroke of your brush,

only representing her as she truly is,

selecting nothing, stalling nothing.

Will you reveal the truth of life.

To put it simply, gentlemen, paint what you see,

draw what you see.

Give thanks to the Lord for the gift of marriage.

And we ask the Lord's grace that the marriage be enriched.

And in the presence of God and before these witnesses,

I now pronounce you ...

man...

and wife.

- Blessings to you both, sir. - Thank you so much.

My friends ...

consider me a man who is not an artist.

But has none the less been granted a muse.

Consider this man,

the luckiest of mortals.

Bound to you in spirit,

from this moment forth.

Sophie!

I shall see you in London.

Goodbye!

Do you know what has just occurred to me?

This is the first time we've ever been entirely alone.

Close your eyes.

Perfect.

- Here we are, sir. - Thank Alfred.

Welcome to Denmark Hill.

No ...

welcome home.

Ah, George, there you are.

Here is your new mistress.

Don't be shy, take her by the hand.

He is an excellent chap. Full of wise saws.

Tell them we're here. There's a good fellow.

- My dearest George... (Enthusiastic greetings.)

Congratulations, welcome to the family.

- How happy we are to see you wed at last. - Thank You.

The journey, I trust, was tolerable.

The train journey was dreadfully long and draughty.

But every discomfort forgotten as soon as we got into your carriage.

That is a most comfortable carriage is it not? The best on the market.

- Like a feather bed. - Come, through...

John...

Mrs. Ruskin is just putting him into a bath.

She's been aching to get her hands on him. Now come through.

I should change.

Yes, of course... but plenty of time for that.

Now, come through and see this.

Now, this was purchased in celebration of your nuptials.

John's writing has made Mr. Turner so celebrated...

you know this painting is already worth a great deal more.

Bless, Oh Lord this poison before us - That it make us ever mindful of the wants and needs of others.

Bless us all and keep us from harm.

Guide and direct us through all our days, and thank The Lord,

for delivering my heart's treasure safely back home.

- Amen. - Amen.

- Amen. - Amen.

You are well recovered I hope, Mrs. Ruskin,

we missed you at the wedding.

It was a shame that you couldn't be there.

Never mind, never mind, it's all over now.

You look a little thinner than last year, my dear.

I've been ill, my father's difficulties have put a strain on us all.

Well that strain is gone ...

You'll never want for money again.

You however, my boy, are somewhat stouter than when you left.

The Scots air must have done you good.

Nonsense! You can't be well in Scotland.

Your cough will last you through winter. Will it not?

I am much improved...

and stronger.

I've even started painting again.

John drew me constantly, he must have destroyed a fortune in paper and paint.

Who would not, with such a subject?

For you, my dear. In welcome to our family.

One of my favourite pieces.

Which you may as well have now, since it would in any case be left to you when I die.

No, no, no, no.

Let her ...

You know what mothers are like.

Good morning, madam. I trust you slept?

What would you like?

Has everyone else already breakfasted?

Oh, yes madam, at 7:00. Every morning.

I was not told.

I was so tired I did not hear John.

Not to worry, madam.

Eggs?

Thank you ... Oh, Anna.

Yes, madam.

Do you know where John ...

Where Mr. Ruskin is?

He'll be working, madam.

Effie.

John.

I knew this must be where you work, sorry...

I ... I'm sorry, I broke it.

I can see, no matter.

Did you sleep?

I think you did...

I watched you.

Did you not sleep? You were so tired.

I did. I did, after a while.

What shall we do?

What do married people do?

I have as little idea as you.

But I think I must work, my dearest.

I shall sit with you and read, then.

Dearest, you will be quite bored here.

Why don't you go find mama? I think she needs help in the garden.

- Good Morning. - Good morning, my child.

- I trust you slept. - Well, thank you.

- Have you breakfasted? - I have, thank you.

John said you needed help.

Me? Oh, no, no, no. I never let anyone touch my roses ...

John knows that.

Oh.

Well, I should go help John.

Help him?

With his work.

You cannot help him with his work.

I can take notes, I can sharpen his pencils I can...

My Dear ... you have married no ordinary man.

And the best way, the only way in which you can help him,

is by leaving him alone.

Leaving him alone? But, we're only just married.

John being able to work undisturbed and unfettered,

affords him the best chance of establishing his name.

And you, of course, want the best position in society that you can reach.

Then, what am I to do?

Well, I've always found great comfort in my roses...

and my Bible.

Sir, I believe that these young artists to be at the most critical period of their career.

At a turning point from which they may either sink,

into nothingness, or to rise to very real greatness.

Their path will depend upon the character of the criticism which their works,

have to sustain.

We shall be late.

Marriage, dear boy, is all about learning how to wait.

She's ready.

Time for a little word, I think.

I'm trying to find ...

truth,

and simplicity from an earlier time,

an integrity I think is lost now.

The general public would laugh at the sight of it and lead the academy into disrepute...

which must and will not be allowed.

There is no place, sir, for these offensive and deformed productions,

upon the hallowed walls of this great institution.

Gentlemen, please.

This most interesting discussion can continue at the table.

Lady Eastlake.

I say that it's incumbent on you, Sir Charles, as president of this Academy,

to protect us from this ugliness. Confusion.

Take down the paintings before the opening, I implore you.

Do not indulge in them, they are nothing more than childish mountebanks and amateurs.

- Remove them, sir. Remove them - They disgrace these walls.

Gentlemen, please, please ...

Thank You. Now...

What is the purpose of art ...?

What is the purpose of art?

To idealize? To sentimentalize?

No, of course not!

The purpose of art is to reveal the truth.

The purpose of art is to reveal God.

But not through caricature.

Not through ugliness.

- Let him speak. - Let's hear what he has to say.

If God is the creator of nature,

then God is also the creator of decay,

of disease, of ugliness.

I cannot deny that Mr. Hansilvya,

is not a person with whom Protheus, or anyone else for that matter, is likely to fall in love, but

truthfulness, honesty,

these are more important than mere conventional beauty.

Do you understand? He was painting what he saw.

But what you see, Mr. Ruskin? Tell us what you see.

I see nothing less than eternal truth ...

I see God.

These men, these visionary men,

I see a school of art nobler, than the world has produced in 300 years.

It's ridiculous.

- They're imitators. - Medieval copiers.

Mr. Ruskin,

Do you think that painting pleases God?

All great art ...

praises God.

If His own nature pleases Him, then it follows, so must we.

I must confess to finding this addiction to an antique-style backward looking.

Well done dear, that was an interesting question,

and bravely spoken.

Never mind God, what do you think of their daubs?

I do not know what I think, I just like them,

they make me feel happy.

No, I cannot remember the last time I felt happy in this place.

Ghastly collection of self-congratulatory males,

it was such a relief to hear an intelligent female voice.

How do you do? ... I'm Eff ...

I mean Mrs. John Ruskin.

I know who you are, but who are you when you are not Mrs. John Ruskin?

I am Elizabeth.

I'm Eff ... Euphemia.

Sad business isn't it, having to lose your own name,

and then taking your husband's Christian name into the bargain?

- Fortunately I do not have that cross to bear. - Why is that?

- Lady Eastlake. - Thank You.

- Your husband is ... - President of the Academy. Yes.

Thank You. He absolutely hates the pictures, by the way.

But he respects your husband's opinion, as I respect yours.

You must have us to dine.

Good, well then I shall hold you to it.

- It sounds as if it went well. - As well as can be expected.

They have agreed to leave the paintings in place.

Lady Eastlake was so kind, and I didn't even know who she was at first.

Lady Eastlake?

John congratulations, you've won the fight.

You must be proud, surely.

We discussed detail. All I know for certain is it'll take me three days to recover.

There are so many demands on you from all sides,

I'm sure everyone always wanting something.

Intolerable for you, my darling.

My heart's treasure - come.

Oh, I forgot to say ...

Lady Eastlake has asked me to invite them to dine here.

Dine here? The Eastlakes?

John.

Yes.

We're not poor, are we?

Poor? Not remotely.

What on earth made you ask?

I'm just making sure of something.

What something?

That we are not too poor to have children.

You are but a child yourself, dear.

I am not.

I am not a child, I am a married woman.

And when we live together as husband and wife...

We are husband and wife.

I know, but alone.

I know I should love to keep house for you.

Our own house, with a good size nursery.

In town, to attain some hold of good society.

I'll be in charge of all our domestic matters.

I will become the wife that you desire.

Can I help you, madam?

Yes Anna, thank you.

I was looking for a needle and thread for John's shirt.

It needs mending.

Oh, I'm sorry madam,

I don't know how I could have missed that!

Leave it here, I'll do it right away.

I will do it.

Madam it has always been my job to do young Mr. Ruskin's mending.

Not any more ...

I am his wife,

I shall look after his things.

Thank you, Anna.

At you wish, madam.

[door closes]

Ah, my dear ...

I'm quite an expert mender, John's shirt will be as good as new.

If mama needed anything mending, socks, babies napkins,

I was always the one she asked.

John does not wear babies napkins.

No, I know that. Of course not. I just ...

My dear, I'm sure you mean well.

But do not insult by suggesting that we would make our son...

wear darned socks.

You forget where you are.

Of course not, forgive me.

You forget who you are.

Anna!

Aaah! G...

John?

Mrs. Ruskin says you should take this.

What is it?

Emetic. She swears by it.

- What's in it? - I do not know, madam.

She means to poison me, I will not take it.

Mrs. Ruskin was most determined.

Lady Eastlake, Sir Charles.

You honour us.

I have been trying unsuccessfully to congratulate your son,

on his wonderful new writings.

Which are no more than a retched rant.

Of course John, we're here to congratulate you on your fascinating new wife.

Well, new to me, at any rate. Where is she?

Did I shock her so profoundly when we first met?

Would you excuse me?

Of course.

Why is she not dressed?!

You will get up and dress, now!

I'm ill, my head...

You are not ill. You are just peevish,

you've had your medicine. Now get up!

She will be dressed and downstairs in five minutes,

or I will want to know the reason why.

[door slams shut]

[indistinct talk]

Ah, Euphemia, there you are.

My dear girl, what on earth is the matter? You're white as the teeth.

No.

Indeed I'm very well.

Come, sit down.

Charles was just telling us about the excellent response,

to John's new book, Euphemia.

Do continue, Sir Charles.

As I say, the reaction has been overwhelming,

he's been called the greatest teacher of our day.

Forgive me, Charles, but this girl does not need,

to hear about her husband's triumph.

Just now what she needs is a cup of beef tea and bed.

Do you think so? Euphemia, dear. Are you so very ill?

There. Will you excuse me?

Come, come ... Come...

It's just a headache, your ladyship. I'm so very sorry.

It is just the married life, more like.

Tell me, Effie. Do you have anyone to talk to?

No, I keep thinking I've made a terrible mistake.

I thought so too, at the beginning of my marriage.

Beginnings are always difficult, my dear.

But we have not yet begun.

They won't let us.

You will not always live here.

It is a temporary arrangement, surely?

They want me here, I'm sure of that.

They have always had it to themselves.

Did you know that they would not even let him play with other children when he was little?

She took rooms near him at University,

and they saw each other every day.

She'll never let him away from her.

My dear child, it is unreasonable for the pair of you not to have a home of your own.

Thank you, for being so kind.

Oh there, there, now. You are a strong, wise girl and you will bare heart.

But I must ask you to banish all thoughts of having made a mistake, from your mind.

But what if I have?

Then I'm sorry to say, my dear, that it's a mistake you'll have to live with.

There is no going back.

No ... no, of course not.

Of course, you know what will set everything to rights quite naturally?

Children. They are the glue that binds all marriages.

Can you ever forgive me?

Of course.

But If you ever take me there again, I'll have you thrown in the Thames.

(laughter)

Your poor mother is in floods.

There was nothing I could do.

God knows. We've protected you with every sinew in our bodies,

from childhood, from all the obstructions,

that might have prevented your unique talent from emerging to the full.

And you succeeded.

But every talent, however unique, needs its patrons.

And tonight, for the first time,

The President of the Academy, himself,

the greatest patron any man of the arts could wish for,

graces our house,

and your wife is unable, or unwilling,

to make the effort required to make it a success.

Careers have foundered on less, John.

I'm sorry to be a disappointment to you both.

You were warned about that girl, yet you chose to follow your own path.

Well, it's up to you, to ensure that this does

not lead to the destruction of everything we have wished for you.

You look sad. You didn't actually want coffee, did you?

No, no, it was just ...

That poor child I was interested in seeing.

- And she's not happy. - No more were you in the beginning.

That's exactly what I told her.

- Very grim, you were. - Well you were pompous.

- True. - And distant.

This is something more complicated,

somehow she has to get him away from their clutches.

Oh heavens, you make them sound like dragons in a fairy tale.

Do I? I don't mean to, but...

perhaps that's not so far from the truth.

What was it he was saying to you about Venice?

Well, he's not taking his parents, I hope!

(laughter)

John...

Thank you for bringing us here.

Lady Eastlake told me - we'll answer to her for [speaks Italian]

- We are to look after you. - Essato. (Exactly)

- Grazie, thank you sir. - You are most kind, countess.

Oh, not kind...It's not often that you have new blood here.

I'm going to send letters,

you'd be invited to every party.

I can see you don't like parties.

I... am in Venice to work -- to write a new book.

I detest parties. In fact, it is impossible for me to go into company without injury.

My wife will be the hostess for them.

Perfecto.

What? What's everyone saying?

They are saying that your husband disapproves of pleasure, but that you do not.

I would like... I would like to buy some cheese".

[Italian] I would like to buy some cheese.

[Italian] I would like to buy some cheese.

- Bravo! - Wonderful!

Your accent is divine - say it again.

[Italian] I would like to buy some cheese.

Again, again ...

[Italian] I would like to buy some cheese.

[speaks in Italian]

Thank You.

Now.

That's better.

Up you go...

Not one eye lifted to this splendour.

Look at this.

It is like the wind itself could have chiselled it.

Look how tenderly ...

And that one is utterly different to this one.

- The variety itself is joyful, is it not? - Yes.

Now look down there, what do you see?

Looks very beautiful,

but in a regular way,

a uniform way.

It's like a world where all the trees are the same shape,

all the clouds the same size, and all the people say the same thing,

over and over again.

It's perfectly executed, but ...

entirely devoid of this ...

beautiful imperfection.

Then imperfection's your ideal,

then you must think me very beautiful.

Look what I found.

Over half a life ago.

Do you remember?

Why is she turning into a tree?

She is the nymph Daphne.

He is the god Apollo.

He wants her with an overwhelming desire, he wants to possess her purity,

But she does not want him.

And turns herself into a laurel tree in order to escape.

That's a clever trick.

It is, nymphs are very clever.

What are you doing?

It is much more difficult than it looks.

Help me ...

No, don't. I am getting better.

You're already working?

Of course.

Did you enjoy the ball?

I did.

I danced and danced.

You bloom, I would perish.

What will your book say?

It will say that Venice was once,

the most glorious, the truest,

the most chased pearl.

Like Adam's Eve, but now that she has fallen

from that grace.

Her dissipation and corruption are almost complete.

What do you mean?

I mean, that once she was a virgin...

and now she is a harlot,

addicted nothing but pleasure and voluptuousness.

A beautiful harlot,

but a harlot none-the-less.

You see that? They are talking about us.

I call them the "whisperers".

Our dancing will be on the news.

I hope your husband is prepared.

My husband cannot hear whispers, he's so far above them.

And I never forget my duty to him, not for an instant.

Anyway, I have no talent whatever for intrigue.

No, the hand like this.

No! ... No! ...

- No, stop. - Kiss Me.

Let's play.

Effie.

Are you back already?

Yes ...

I was tired.

Why don't you lie down?

I will.

Mr. Ruskin, do you by any chance, happen to know what was in that treatment of your mother's?

I do not, she swears by them - always has done.

Well ... I think that laudanum in them is a perfectly sensible treatment ...

and in this case.

How long has she been unwell for?

Almost constantly,

a never ending succession of minor ailments.

This particular one. It came to a head a few months ago.

Came to a head. How was it manifested?

Hysteria, seeing things,

growing upon her person.

Such as?

Mere phantasms of a disordered brain, doctor...

None-the-less, such as?

Organic matter ... bark ...

- Tree bark? - Just, so.

Interesting.

Well, it's undoubtedly a nervous complaint,

that would account for the hair loss.

- Hair loss? - Have not you noticed?

Here ...

and here.

I recommend the following,

fresh air, exercise, a wholesome environment,

perhaps away from the influence of the elder Mrs. Ruskin.

She's Scottish by birth, I hear?

Perhaps some time in her native land might be beneficial.

I prescribe, an iron tonic for her.

- And for you. - There's nothing wrong with me!

For you, I prescribe a sharper eye and keener ear.

In my opinion, there is nothing wrong with your wife,

that simple love and attention will not cure.

What are you looking at?

Nothing.

What are you thinking of, then?

A great many things.

I was thinking of dancing,

excitement.

And a great many things.

Mr. Millais ... hello.

I've not seen you grace these halls for some time. Are you well?

You ought to be and I feel great success, for which ...

may I congratulate you, heartily?

Thank you, your ladyship.

- I am thriving - Thriving, and painting?

Oh, yes, in fact I am recently commissioned.

- Oh good, that is good. - It is.

I'm proud to say that I'm to paint our champion, himself.

I'm to paint Mr. Ruskin.

Mr. Ruskin? Really?

I can hardly believe my luck. We are to depart for Scotland shortly.

Scotland?

- Yes, his wife is from there you know? - I did know, I did know, yes.

- How is she? - Well ...

At least I do not know, I believe we're to go there for the sake of her health.

Scotland?

Ready?

Ah! Damn!

Fear not brave companions,

breakfast is at hand!

- Don't move. - What?

No, no. I mean it! Don't Move!

That light ... that's the light I want.

I'm not floating through the middle of a Scottish loch, Everett.

That angle, exactly that angle, and water, and ...

exactly that light.

Excellent. Can put my shoes on then?

You may.

It really is, very good of you to come, Everett...

you've no idea.

Perhaps you have ... you can see.

Uh, good of me?

But for your belief in me,

I'd still be starving in my garret.

Added to which your father is paying me handsomely for this.

Euclid, Everett.

Essential.

You will start by reading him, and then we will further your studies.

[knocking]

-Ah, Mr. McPhail. -Where do you want this? -Thank you.

Everett.

Let joy be unconfined!

-There's the post. Now lunch. -Thank You.

It's not as white as I hoped, but ... it will do.

- Shall we? - Lunch first. Aren't you hungry?

What is wrong?

You've heard some bad news?

My poor mother,

She has lost her child,

the seventh.

I do not know how she bares it.

I'm so sorry.

I need to lay out the lunch.

How is Effie?

I think she is improving,

the air and the exercise are doing her good.

I mean, has she recovered from the news?

What news?

- The loss of the child. - The child? What child?

Mrs. Gray, her mother. The loss of her child.

She's lost another, then. What is that now, five?

- Seven. - Seven! Dear me.

Did Effie not say?

Her mother loses children with such ghastly regularity I think she realises it would hardly register with me.

That's a little harsh, surely?

Not at all.

The woman is positively barnyard in her breeding habits,

she can hardly expect them all to survive.

Look at that exquisite leafage.

You'll need to be on your highest metal, Everett, to capture that.

What?

You realize I can open the window, close the curtains,

and wash without getting out of bed.

It's like living in a snuff-box.

Do you hear John?

Should we start out early, Everett?

Everett?

Yes,...Yes, first thing.

I can't go on my fingers refusing to bend.

Come ... let me help.

I've not done two inches of work.

Where's Everett?

He's just behind me, he fell.

What happened?

I slipped off the boat.

Let's go and have a look.

I can't break my nose.

- Am I hurting you? - No....

No, not at all...

Why can't you have a broken nose?

What?

You said, "I cannot have a broken nose", outside.

Did I? How odd of me.

But, it's only because I use my own face as a model all the time.

It's cheaper than hiring someone.

So, my nose is quite useful.

And you need it to smell things with.

That too, of course.

There ... no more.

The secret is to know when to stop.

It is exquisite.

Don't tease.

I would resent such talent, if you were not so ... angelic.

Your nose is perfect again.

Please do not remind me of my inexcusable self-regard.

Finished.

My Edinburgh lectures.

She won't want to come, truly.

It would bore her ... anyway I'll only be gone for a few days, and it is but a stone's throw.

But are you not anxious about leaving her alone?

Why? Where are you going?

- I'm not going anywhere. - Then she won't be alone.

John, you can't leave her on her own with me.

Yes, I realize it's a bore, Everett.

No, not at all. I'm talking about the impropriety.

Oh, for Heaven's sake.

Look, have Mrs. McPhail to stay then, if you're worried the locals will take offence.

I'm not worried about the locals.

John, you seem to pay no mind to the safety of your wife's reputation.

To leave her entirely alone with another man,

a single man.

I'd have loved this when I was little.

It was all so flat where I grew up.

- Did you love it very much? - I did.

Do you see that little thorn tree?

Fairies live under those trees, my mother told me.

I believed her absolutely. I'd take my breakfast out and leave it for them.

And of course, in the morning it was always eaten by a fox,

... or some such, which only went to prove their existence further.

One Christmas, my mother cooked a ham.

I thought the fairies should have some, so...

I went to the pantry to cut a slice and couldn't manage it,

so I just took the entire hock.

I was found out, of course,

and that was the end of the fairies.

But happiness for the foxes.

Over a thousand at every lecture, it was a huge success.

But the price was crippling headaches.

- I hope Effie was not too trying for you? - Of course not.

Women should depend on themselves for engrossing employment.

Rather than constantly craving companionship and attention.

Excuse me.

Where have you been?

I ran.

- Ran where? - Anywhere.

Wherever my feet took me.

For heavens' sake, you must change your clothes or you'll make yourself sick.

I am sick, I'm sickened by him.

I don't know how you bare it.

I cannot bare to witness any more of your torture,

when I cannot stop it, when I cannot do anything.

Tell me, Effie, what am I supposed to do?

What I can do?

There is nothing to be done.

We will return to London,

The Venice engravings for my book are ready.

- I cannot go back. - We will leave on Monday.

I cannot go back!

The pains of eternal torment would be no worse than returning to Denmark Hill with you.

I did not ask your opinion, but I merely informed you of our leaving.

I cannot go back.

Do not think for a moment that your behaviour here has escaped my attention - It has not.

I have seen what you try to hide.

Do you really want to lose your reputation in the world?

It would make a great piece of work for your bankrupt father.

Do not push me any further, Euphemia.

For your own sake.

I hate you.

He's been listening - he's been watching,

he knows.

Does he mean to ruin me? To compromise me?

I can never visit you in Denmark Hill.

You need to have someone with you. Can you think of anyone?

I don't know ...

- perhaps my sister Sophie. - Yes.

Her visit will not arouse suspicion.

Then you must arrange it.

- Mr McPhail, we are ready. - Aye ready, sir.

Everett, would you help my wife?

Don't do that, dear.

Makes you sound like an imbecile.

A New Year is upon us and we have yet to receive Mr. Millais' portrait.

I think in January I may find some time to sit with him.

No matter I am truly eager to see it.

Or perhaps, my dear, you can mention it next time you write to him.

I do not write to him.

This is a new addition to our cellar, my dear.

I thought we'd better start to educate our palates to the nuances,

of the German wines before our trip.

White wine?

We're going on a trip?

We are all going.

I'm to go?

But no one said ...

Let us not start discussing something that was settled months ago.

I don't know why you feel Sophie needs to see the sites in town.

What on Earth is wrong with Peckham?

She said he wanted to see St. Pauls.

- No I didn't. - Shh! She might hear you.

We're going to see a friend of mine.

Everett?

What have they said of him?

Nothing, John just said you've made Everett unhappy.

Just as you've made him unhappy.

Who is Everett?

A friend.

But not the friend we're going to see?

Sophie, ... please.

But John must have talked to you, surely?

He must have ...

Let me understand, you are telling me that...

you still, to this day, ... do not ... understand,

the details of the most intimate relation within marriage?

You have not experienced them?

He has never so much as touched me.

Never made me his wife.

Because he was disgusted with my body that first evening.

After that he said we should wait,

until I was twenty-five.

By then he said that I'd professed such a dislike for him that it would be a sin.

And an even further sin to have children.

Because I was wicked, and probably insane.

Um...

And he ...

had never after that moment, sought relations?

Never.

I've never heard of such cruelty, the man must be ...

If he has not made you his wife physically,

then I should think ... that you are not his wife.

But I have no knowledge of such matters.

I will make enquiries, legal and social,

discreetly, of course.

I would implore you not to have a scene with him just yet.

I must say I've read all his books,

and I've always thought him quite the eccentric, but now, ...

it's most peculiar.

I'm perfectly thunder-struck!

You may sit up, Mrs. Ruskin.

He must be mad.

Oh!

Who's that from?

Effie.

My dear, there's nothing more you can do.

You must let events take their course now.

Come in ...

Please sit down.

Forgive me.

I have Dr. Lee's report ... here.

You say, he told you he thinks your husband's mad.

It is interesting, but madness, unfortunately,

is not sufficient grounds for divorce.

If it were, half the marriages in London would be in jeopardy.

But the crux is this.

We found the usual signs of virginity are perfect.

And that she is naturally and properly formed.

So ... There we have it.

I must say, in all my years ...

It is an unprecedented case, Mrs. Ruskin.

But I am certain we can receive an annulment of your marriage.

On the grounds of non-consummation.

However, we must be circumspect,

best to keep away from your husband as ...

much as you can, to prevent...

Prevent what?

Let us just say you do not make more than a usual effort,

to encourage ... relations.

Do you spend a great deal of time writing?

I do, my angel, I do.

I have written two books about modern painting.

One about architecture.

And this one ...

about Venice.

It's a very big book.

And then I shall write a book so big,

and it will be all about your sister's conduct.

About her wickedness.

But don't tell her,

because then she would hate you.

Let it be our little secret.

Do not worry now, Lambkin. It doesn't hurt.

Thank you, George.

Uhm...

George.

What in God's name have you done?

I have done nothing.

Tidy yourself up this instance, before my mother sees you.

I will not.

You disgust me.

I have had a letter,

from mother.

She misses Sophie too much and asks me to return her to Scotland.

Then I suggest you start packing.

What does Mama say?

It is not from Mama.

Go have one last look in your room, make sure nothing is forgotten.

Thank you, George.

I wish you happiness, ma'am.

A great collection of bags for a short visit.

George, you will not tell...

It's John, actually ...

- Where is Sophie? - She's upstairs.

But we can't have two Johns in the house,

so the Master chose George for me.

- I didn't mind. - You should have.

He took away your name.

Sophie, you will miss the train.

- Good blimey with those bags, George.

There is no point in you accompanying us.

Alfred can find me a porter, and I know you have work to do.

Would you be so kind as to hand me in, John.

What are you doing?

Put it here.

What are you going to do with that?

Leaving it there - they'll find it when Alfred takes the carriage back.

Won't they be cross?

It's quite simply one of the most remarkable pictures in the world.

You should be very proud.

Mr. Ruskin, sir. There is a gentleman at the door for you.

Where are we?

You'll have to help me, Lambkin.

Mr. John Ruskin?

Yes?

I have a citation to court.

- To court? - From whom?

Mrs. Euphemia Ruskin.

The defendant must receive the papers himself, sir.

It is a matter of law.

And this is concerning?

It is a private matter, sir.

You may illuminate.

Very well ... it's petitioning for the annulment of your marriage, sir.

On what grounds?

It is a very delicate matter, sir. I don't ...

My parents are privy to of all my affairs.

- None-the-less ... - I demand to know on what grounds.

On the grounds of impotency, sir.

Hello.

- Who are you? - I'm Sophie.

What's happened?

You're not to go to her.

She says you're forbidden.

She said it would ruin her, and you.

She said I was to tell you this.

She says she loves you very much,

but she says she's not fit to marry for a time,

without much deliberation,

because, wait, because it would never do to be raptured twice.

What did he say?

He said, "Tell her that I look forward to her... No,

to making her very happy. "

Would you like a game of cards?