All language subtitles for Green.Dolphin.Street.1947.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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This came for you,
reverend mother.

Thank you.

He needn't wait.

Thank you.
You needn't wait.

Open the gate, sister Angelique.

Forgive me, reverend mother,

but if you are going
to St. Pierre,

the tide is due to rise,

and if you should get caught...

Child, the man
who wrote this letter

may ruin the happiness
of a family
whom we all respect.

Of course, I could
stay here and pray
to the good lord.

Yes, you could do that,
reverend mother. You're
not so young anymore.

But I think the good lord

would prefer me
to do something
about it.

And my age is my own business...

And you can come with me.

Sophie.
Reverend mother.

How nice to see you.
Do sit down.

No. I haven't time for that.

But I haven't
seen you
for years. Wh--

Sophie.

Is something wrong?

Edmond Ozanne
has returned
to St. Pierre.

Edmond.

Naturally,
he doesn't know
you're Mrs. Patourel,

and he wants to see you.

Oh...

There is my answer--
my 2 daughters.

You don't mention Octavius.

Don't you love him?

Octavius? Of course.
He is my husband.

But you didn't love him

when your parents
forced the marriage
on you.

Octavius is kind and devoted.

He's been
a loving father
to his children,

and he's carried on
the family business
beautifully.

But Edmond is still
the man you love...

And always will.

My parents forbade me
to marry Edmond
because...

Because
he drank too much,
talked too much.

Because they considered
the marriage unsuitable,
and they were right.

Don't lie to me,
Sophie Patourel.

You'd have
thrown yourself over
the Cliff that night

if I hadn't stopped you.

Help me. Help me,
reverend mother.

Octavius thinks
I scarcely knew
Edmond.

He and my children
must never know
the truth.

Then you must
go and see Edmond today.

Tell him about
your marriage,
your daughters.

Let him know unmistakably
that the past
is buried forever,

and he must say nothing
to jeopardize your
family's happiness.

Yes. I'll see him.

I'll go today.

Good. Oh, and I must hurry.

The tide may not
wait, even for
mother superior.

There's Edmond now.

Oh, Mrs. Metivier,
you flatter me.

He has changed...
Shockingly.

Cabby, let's have
this bag first, eh?

Who is the young man?

That is his son.

Edmond married in England.

His wife died
when the boy
was born.

Come, sister.

Good-bye, my child.

Good-bye, reverend mother.

Oh, mama, help me
get my bonnet on
properly.

That's a darling.

Marianne.

Marianne!

I won't be long.

I'm with papa.

I wrote to London this morning

and told them not
to send you the plans
of the steamboat.

Marianne,
why don't you
get married?

And I signed
your name
to the letter.

You what?

I said, I signed
your name
to the letter.

Marianne, Marianne,
it's most unseemly for--

oh, nonsense, papa.
These are modern times.

I've made up my mind.
You must marry.

Sir Charles--
That's our man.

You must know that he loves you.

Oh, don't think
mama and I didn't notice
that you spent 3 hours

with him in
the conservatory
last night.

Yes. It took me 3 solid hours

to coax sir Charles
to give me this report.

You see? It's marked,
"confidential."

Oh, here, dear--

your new glasses.

These figures prove
that at the present
cost of operation,

the steamboat
will eat up
all its profits.

I still say it's most unseemly

for a young woman
to know so much about
the shipping business.

Oh, papa. You'll be
using steamships
in 8 to 10 years,

but by that time,
you'll be retired,

and I'll be running
the business.

By that time, you'll
be married to some
smart young fellow

who'll carry on in my place.

If I ever marry,

it won't be because
the bridegroom
is a good businessman.

Marianne, my dear,

sometimes you shock me.

Of course I do.

I'm bold and scheming,

and sometimes I think
I'm not quite nice.

Marianne, Marguerite is waiting.

Oh, be an angel
and run down
and tell mama

that in exactly
5 minutes I shall descend
the front staircase

so elegantly
I'll frighten myself.

You're incorrigible.

Marguerite.

Oh, Marianne,
you're beautiful,
simply beautiful.

I am not beautiful.
I'm immensely chic.

Smell. It's a new perfume
from Paris.

I think it's a little indecent,
don't you?

Marianne,
the neckline
of that dress,

do you think it modest?

Mama, it's a very latest style.

Papa, my angel,
what do you think?
Is it all too bold?

Not on you, my dear.
God has given you
that quality.

Oh, no. It's all my own doing.

Don't be rude to your father.

Go where you're going

before I lose
my Patience
with you.

We're going shopping.
Come, Marguerite.

Shopping?
In that dress?

But, mama, this dress
is only to prove

that even if we are
the richest people
on the island,

we are not snobs,
at least I'm not.

As a matter of fact,
today I feel
particularly common.

What are we going shopping for?

We're not going shopping.

We're calling on
our new neighbors,
both of them.

Look alive,
you young
whippersnapper.

Come in. Come in.

Well, bless my soul,
if you aren't
a pretty pair of fish!

William! William,
come and see
what I've got:

A pink one and a green one.

Are there any more
of you outside,

say, a yellow one or a blue one?

William, make your manners.

Bow to the little dears.

This is my son William,

and your name is?

Marianne, and you're sweet.

Well, thank you.

And yours?

Marguerite.

Marianne and Marguerite,

2 pretty names
for 2 pretty
little dears.

Holy Moses, I
don't know that
I ever heard

2 prettier names.

Did you, William?

I don't like them.

Too fancy and too much alike.

He's a vicious
little brute,
isn't he?

Come. Sit down, ladies.

I've been trying
to save him from
the likes of you

ever since the day he was born.

I never
saw them until
this minute.

Oh, he doesn't mean
saving you from us.

He means from good manners,
respectability, sobriety.

Well, I'll be--

Oh, please
don't be angry with her.

She talks like that
to everybody.

Angry with her?

Why, if I were
a young man, I'd...

You'd what?

I'd run away
as if you were
the devil himself.

And a fine job
you've made of
yourself and your son.

Huh?

If this impossible youth
can be your son.

Impossible!
Ha ha ha!

What's wrong with me?

Well, you could start
making yourself civilized

by tying your shoelaces.

I wouldn't give a penny

for all the civilized
shoelaces in London.

Oh, a revolutionary.

And just what
would be your idea of
a satisfactory existence?

If I were running
this world,
I'd pass a law

that everyone
could do exactly
as he pleased.

Convincing rascal, isn't he?

Ladies, I am Ozanne,

Dr. Edmond Ozanne,

and you are Marianne
and Marguerite what?

Excuse me, please.

I'm afraid my daughters
are rather unconventional.

Naturally one
calls on a new neighbor,

but not without warning,
of course.

I am Mrs. Patourel.
You remember me?

And you are Edmond Ozanne.

Yes, ma'am, and you are Sophie.

We used to know
each other when we--

yes. I was
just about to tell
your daughters

that I didn't
know you very well,

my father being a shopkeeper

on a lower social level

than your mother's family.

Oh, Edmond, that makes us
sound like snobs.

Oh, but you are, mama.
You're sweet,
but you are a snob.

Pay no attention to her.

My husband--I don't think
you ever knew him.

His name is Octavius Patourel.

And he's a bit of a snob, too.

Close your mouth, young woman.

Your mother is a gracious lady

merely trying
to be kind to
a good-for-nothing

who drinks more than
is good for him.

Oh, Edmond.

Yes, I...

The only times I
ever really got away
from this island

and what I left behind here

was through a bottle of...

Well...

But I won't presume
on boyhood
acquaintanceship.

Oh, I forgot.
My son.

Salute the lady, William.

You're very like
your father as a boy.

Let's go now.
Come, girls.

Good-bye, Dr. Ozanne.
I'm coming again... Soon.

An honor, young lady.

Good-bye.

Good-bye, William.

Good-bye, William.

You would look
much more like
a human being

if you'd comb your hair.

Thank you, Edmond,
for helping me out.

They mustn't ever know
that you and I once...

Once loved each other
beyond all else.

Don't worry, Sophie.

No one will ever hear it
from these aging lips.

Aha, and which of
the two young ladies

put that comb in your hand?

It was Marianne.

Or is her name
Marguerite?
It was the nice one.

Why, thank you.
Who sent them?

Oh, this is nice.

Are there 2 of them?

Well, shouldn't
miss Marianne Patourel

be told the name
of her secret admirer

who sent her flowers?

She doesn't even
know I exist,
and she never will.

I'll go and tell her.

You keep your mouth
shut, Corinne, and mind
your own business.

Since when has
Timothy Haslam
not been my business?

What's over is over.
I've told you that
a dozen times.

Now, can't you understand it?

I can understand,
but will my brother
understand?

You know, he can
use a knife, too.

That statue of
the Madonna up there,
how tall is it?

No one's ever seen it close,

except the sisters of St. Peter.

William, I've been
thinking over
very seriously

what you said
about shoelaces
the other day.

Can you get up there from here?

Well, they say
that many years ago,

before the convent was built,

smugglers used to climb
up through a tunnel
inside the cave.

Smugglers, huh? Well,
I can do anything
a smuggler can do.

William!

William!

Pretty smart
of those old smugglers.

You know, at high tide,
the whole cave
is hidden underwater,

and at low tide,
it's perfect for
any kind of--

sit down, William.

Now, what are you
going to do
about your future?

My future? I think
I'll be a smuggler.

Oh, be serious.

After all, a man
must have some sort
of career.

Well, I'll have
to think that over.

It may take me years and years.

In the meantime,
I think I'll just lie back here

and think of all
the exciting places

on the other side of
that ocean, pacific ocean,
and all the other oceans.

Good morning, Emily.

Good morning, miss Marianne.

Good morning, Dolly.

Good morning, miss.

Marianne.

Pleasant dreams?

Very.

Marianne, is it
possible to fall
in love with a man

you've known
only 5 days
and seen 3 times?

Yes. I think it is.

That means you're
in love with him, too.

No, I'm not,

but I could be in love
with the man he could be.

Whichever of us...

Oh, Marianne,

it must never
make any difference
between us.

Nothing ever could or ever will.

How can William not
fall in love with you?

You're so striking,
and you have a brain.

William!

Yes, father.

Oh, there you are.

William,
did you drink as much
as I did last night?

I did, old fellow,
but I'm young.

Oh, you ungrateful young cub.

Father, Marguerite's coming.

This sign says, "Dr. Ozanne."

Come this way, please.

Sit there.

Hey, here's a patient for you.

What's the matter?

You get in a little trouble?

Holy Moses!
That's bad.

You've lost a lot of blood.

It's a knife wound, huh?

It's a matter for the police.

I'll have to report it.

No.

I always
have to report
knife wounds--

I don't want you to.

Give me
one good reason
why I shouldn't.

Because it's a private matter.

A woman, huh?

And the man
who carved you up
was her husband?

Her brother.

Brother? Very dull
and uninteresting.

Well,
nothing better for
the morning after

than a little surgery.

What's the matter?
Do I frighten you
that much?

Yeah. You're
so blasted clever,
you scare me to death.

Good.
Perhaps I can scare
some sense into you.

Come down
to the harbor. I want
to show you something.

What a beautiful ship.

What is she, Marianne?

One of the new clippers--
the finest, fastest kind
of merchant ship.

You see, William?
See the name?
Green dolphin.

And you live on
the corner of green
dolphin street.

That's a sign.

Look how high those masts are.

I wonder how many
sails she carries.

Well, there's a foretop
and staysail, inner jib,

outer or flying jib,
foresail, mainsail,
and mizzen,

fitted with topsail,
topgallant, and royal.

What may you be doing here,

waking me up out of the first
good sleep I was after having
for a week?

Devil of a storm
it was, too, drove me
in here last night.

Where are you from
and what cargo?

New Zealand.
Cargo of timber.

Well, you've got
the most perfect ship
I've ever seen.

Captain Dennis O'Hara
at your service.

Come aboard and have
a bite of breakfast.

That's a Mako shark.

Caught it
in the Tasman sea
with a boat hook.

Yes, New Zealand's
a beautiful country

with forests having
a grand smell...

And the tops of the trees
150 feet above your head

and giant ferns below,

ferns reaching
above your shoulders.

Giant ferns?

Well, go on, captain O'Hara.

It's the first
time I've ever
seen William

interested
in anything
worthwhile.

Yes, a grand land
with birds bigger
than an ostrich

but not able to fly

by reason of
the heavy stomachs
they have on them

and mountains
with the snow always
on their crests.

Slept ashore last night,
did you?

Stole the eggs off the natives.

It's meself
that's proud of you, Nat.

Doesn't your servant
talk English?

Nat? He don't talk sense at all.

Some cannibals
in New Zealand toyed
with tongue, that's why.

Cannibals?

Chopped off his leg, too.
A grand country,
New Zealand,

with timber and flax
and wonderful
pastureland,

all virgin soil
and don't belong
to no one.

There are places
like that in this world,

and I have
to live and die here--

you're a man, aren't you?

You don't have
to do anything you
don't want to do.

Here, me dear, for you.

They're made of
a New Zealand stone
called tangaway,

and green's your color,
I can see.

And for you, son,
the Maoris of New Zealand
use a knife like thus

for cutting up human flesh.

Oh, captain O'Hara,
they're beautiful.

I've got to be going.
There's trouble on deck.
Finish your breakfast.

What's going on here?

Sneaked aboard, hey?
A stowaway.

Who are you?
Who are you?!

What difference does it make?

Toss him overboard.

Throw him to the sharks.

My name is Timothy Haslam.

You wouldn't
be hiding from
the police.

It was a fair fight.

And 'tis plain
you killed
the other fellow.

I won't lie to you.
I did kill him,

but I didn't lift
a hand to him until he
came at me with a knife.

I believe you.

'Tis well
and fairly spoken,
and I'll help you.

Besides,
I'm a man short
in me crew.

Take him below.
Hide him in
the forecastle.

Come along.

The English law
can't reach you
in New Zealand.

Ah, look...

Just look at her.

I know what
I'm going to do.
I've made up my mind.

I'm going to be a sailor
on a clipper ship
like that one.

Oh, no. Not on
a clipper ship. You're
going into the Navy.

The Navy?

Uh-huh.
To be an officer
and a gentleman.

Well, that takes money.

Well, suppose
someone found a way

to provide the money
and the influence.

Well, that's just talk. Who?

My father.

What? And do you
suppose my father
would permit that?

I repeat, Marianne.

How could you go aboard
a strange ship with
that uncouth ragamuffin?

How could you indulge
in such a disreputable
escapade?

And stop sulking.

Are those your new glasses?

Certainly. Certainly.
Certainly.

Well, then,
you'd better
send them back.

I'm not sulking.
I'm smiling
humbly.

I am sorry.
I apologize.

My behavior was most
unladylike. I ask
you to forgive me.

Oh. Well, we'll say
no more about it.

Thank you, papa.

The matter is closed.

Not quite.

Hmm?

What about William?

William?

He wants to go in the Navy.
Not my problem.

Well, you object
to William being around,

and if he went off
to the Navy, he wouldn't
be here, would he?

And when he does come back,

why, then,
he will be a gentleman

and wouldn't be
so offensive, would he?

Hmm. Bright girl, Sophie.

But, of course,
it takes money
and influence.

Not my money.
Oh, no.

Mama is very fond of William.

Wouldn't you like
to treat William

as if he were
the son mama has
always longed for

but has never had?

Mind you, it's not
going to be as easy
as you think.

William's father is very proud.

You may have a little difficulty

in getting him
to accept
the proposition,

but you're so brilliant.
You'll do it.

Oh, and mention mama
and her affection
for William.

I don't need to be told
how to carry out
a good idea.

Then don't go to see
Dr. Ozanne this evening.
Tomorrow will do.

I shall go tonight.
I shall go now.

Oh, and, uh, take Dr. Ozanne
a bottle of Brandy.

I will not.

Our best Brandy,

the kind you smuggle in
from France.

Marianne, your father
is very good.

He's very easily managed.

Mama.

Emily, put the keys
to the wine cellar
back in my desk.

Very well, sir.

Marianne, whispering:
William.

William, you're
practically in the Navy.

"It's midsummer festival day.

"How slowly the years have past
since William left for England

"and the royal naval college
at Portsmouth.

"And now at last
her majesty's ship Orion

"is sailing majestically
into our harbor,

and William is aboard."

Eh! There he is,
and I'll wring his neck.

2 years without a letter
to his own father,
the young cub.

Well, old fellow,
you look younger
than I do.

Oh...

A little digestive trouble.

I may even have to take

some of that
horrible stuff
I give my patients.

Come in.

Come in, my boy.
Come in.

Oh, this note
came for you
awhile back.

One of the servants
brought it from
the Patourel house.

"Dear William, I have
arranged for you to come
to dinner tonight at 7:00

"so that my father may see
the results so far of his
investment in your future.

I know you won't
fail me. Marianne."

Yeah, and you've got to go, too.

I want to go.
I want to see...

But my ship sails
at high tide tonight.

I know.

But we'll have
the whole afternoon
together.

What's a few more years?
Time passes.

Soon you'll be home to stay.

How'd you know about my ship?

The Patourel girl told me.

Came over here not 10 minutes

after the Orion
had dropped anchor.

Which Patourel girl?

Both of them.
Both of the pretty
little rascals.

They've been popping
in and out of here
ever since you left.

Bless their hearts.
Which one of them is it
you're so anxious to see?

The one
I've had on my mind
ever since...

Ever since I first saw her.

That would be the one

who's so much like her mother

when she was a girl.

Son, if you
have it in your heart

to speak to this girl,

remember that fine families

are very particular
about a son-in-law.

I know.

I've been worrying
about her father.

Well, when you're
an established officer
in her majesty's Navy,

you'll be a gentleman,
even to Mr. Patourel.

Oh, good evening, sir.

Good evening.

In the drawing room, sir.

Thank you.

William.
Marguerite.

The others
will be down
in a moment.

Then I shall make use
of that moment.

Marguerite, ever since
I last saw you,

I've thought of nothing but you.

I love you.

May I say that?

I love you.

Oh, keep saying it, William,

because I love you, too.

Listen, this must be our secret,

but all the time
I'm away from you,

you must keep
saying to yourself
that I love you.

Mama.

Good evening, William.

It's a pleasure
to welcome you
to our home.

You're
very handsome
in your uniform.

Thank you, Mrs. Patourel.

He's a little thin.

That's a life of discipline,

the best thing
in the world
for a man.

William.

How are you, Marianne?

Very well pleased with you.

So you're off to China tonight?

Oh, how lucky you are, William.

You know, mama,
the green dolphin trades
on the China coast,

and captain O'Hara
says a knowledge
of the orient

is most important nowadays.

Yes. I suppose so.

Well, the future
commerce of the world

will center in the pacific.

Yes, I think papa
will be satisfied with
your progress so far.

Oh, excuse me.

What is it, Mrs. Metivier?

Dr. Ozanne.
He's just had a seizure.

He's very ill.
Mr. William must--

yes. Yes.
I'll bring him.
Get my cloak.

William...

Your father's just
had a sudden attack.

Oh.

My father?

Marguerite,
get mama's
smelling salts,

and then find
a doctor,
the nearest.

Come, William.

Steady, William.
This may not be serious.

Speak to him, William.

Father...

Can you hear me?

Oh... Are you really
here, William?

Of course I'm here.
Of course I'm here.

Oh...

Thank you. Thank you
for coming, William.

It shows you really love me.

You won't have to stay very long

because I'm...

Not going to last very long.

William...

Yes, father?

Wouldn't it be a joke now

if I didn't die after all?

No. I wouldn't

play that kind of joke on you

because I've always loved you.

Father!

Father.

Oh, come, William.

Please.

William. Listen to me, William.

You don't know
how wonderful
he was.

Yes, I do. I knew,
and I loved him,

but what you must realize

is that tonight
he saw you as being
wonderful, too.

He saw you as you
are now, an officer
and a gentleman,

and that's the way
he'll remember you.

Oh, what does that matter now?

It matters a great deal
because you're going
to do things

that will make him
very proud of you.

Oh, William.
Stay here with him
for a little while.

I'll stay with you if you like.

But then, you know,
we must get you
back to your ship

because it sails at midnight.

I'm not going with the ship.

I won't leave him.
I can't.

Yes, you can. You're
going to sail away
with your ship,

and when you
come back next year,

you'll come back
with your head high,

full of pride of
what you've done
with yourself,

full of knowledge
that he would have
been as proud as you,

and you'll find his grave,

where we'll bury him
with honor and with
kindness,

and when you kneel by his grave,

then you can weep
from a brave heart

and respect yourself
as well as him.

Oh, William.

There will be flowers
on his grave next year.

There will always
be flowers on his grave.

Well, Ozanne,
there's China.
Take it all in.

Yes, sir.

But be back on board
by midnight.

By all means, sir.

All I'm
looking forward to
is our return home.

You wish to buy something?

Yes, please.
I'd like something
for a young lady.

Certainly.

Why, you speak
English perfectly.

Yes. My father
was an Englishman.

This is a Chinese
charm necklace...

To be given to
the one whom you love.

Oh, yes. That's
just what I wanted.
How much is it?

4 pieces of silver,
Chinese money.

I haven't any
Chinese money.
Will you take English?

One English gold sovereign.

Oh.

Oh, could I write a letter?

Of course.
Over there.

"Dear Marguerite,

"this necklace will say
I have always loved you.

"Wait for me.
When I come home,

I will ask your father
for your hand in marriage."

And when will you be home?

Not for another 2 years.

There is an English
clipper ship
in the harbor.

It will be home in 6 months.

Thank you very much.

You, there.
Aye, aye, sir.

There's
a clipper ship in port
sailing for home.

Put this package
and letter on board.

I think this
should cover the cost.

Right, sir.

You will drink
a little rice wine.

Where is this place?

Where is this place?!

Oh.

What's the matter, mate?

Where's the Orion?

The Orion, man, where is she?

The Orion, now, Matey,
she sailed at midnight.

Far as you're concerned,
she's halfway to Calcutta.

Oh-ho,
a stowaway. Drunk
and disorderly, too.

What the devil are ye? Nat! Nat!

Don't you remember me,
captain O'Hara? St. Pierre.

Let's have a look at you.

Oh, that young fellow.

What are you doing here, son?

What's the trouble?
Huh? Huh?

I had shore leave.

Something happened.

My ship sailed.

Women and rum.

Yes, sir.

What ship?

The Orion.

The Navy?
You young fool!

Alright, Nat.

If you'd gone straight
to her majesty's consul

and made a clean breast of it...

But, no. Instead of that,
you're now a deserter.

A fine mess
you made of your life.

Where are we bound,
captain O'Hara?

New Zealand, and you're lucky.

There you'll be safe
from the law.

Fine young muscles like yours

will be at a premium
among the settlers.

William!

Parson and Mrs. Kelly.
William Ozanne.

How do you do?

Well, son, I'm ready to
up-anchor and leave Wellington,

which means you're through
with the green dolphin,

but parson Kelly and his wife
will take you in.

You can help
in the mission school.

I don't like
to impose on a parson.

Who else am I
to impose you on
but a parson?

A parson can't refuse you
bed and victuals,

as expressly provided
in the book of Matthew.

Isn't that so, parson?

Quite so.

Thank you, parson.

Ma'am.

Keep a good heart, son.

Don't fret
over past mistakes,
and remember,

'tis better to keep away
from the liquor today

than to waste tomorrow
counting yesterday's
empty bottles.

Thank you
for everything,
captain O'Hara.

If you ever get back
to St. Pierre, you
won't tell anybody--

have no fear of that,
son, and god bless you.
Shove off, lad.

Earthquake.

That's right, chum.
It was an earthquake.

That's right.

Whiskey.

You're a homey, right?

Huh?

New to this country.

Oh, just landed, sir.

Got a job?

Yes, I've got a job--

teaching the kiddies
at the mission school.

Not your sort of work, huh?

What do you think?

I've got
a place up north
in the back blocks

getting out curry--
that's its big
tree timber.

You can pitch in
and join me
if you like.

But why?
You don't know
anything about me.

I know as much about you

as your father
knew about me
back in St. Pierre

when he patched up
this arm without
telling the police.

I remember. I thought
you looked familiar.

You killed a man and got away.

Keep your mouth shut.

And your name's Haslam.

My name's Tyharuru.

The Maoris gave it to me.

That's all you need
to know about me.

Well, the same applies to me.

Alright.

I'll work you harder

than you've ever
been worked before
in your life,

and you'll have
to be ready for trouble

because there
will be a war between
the natives--the Maoris--

and the colonials before long.

Make up your mind.

If you go with me,
you can forget
that girl at home.

Who told you about a girl?

A mutual friend--
captain O'Hara.

Tell me something,
Ozanne... Which of
the two sisters was it?

None of your blasted business...

Sir.

Well, there it is, Ozanne.

The whole valley?

Well, we live, uh--

you see the lake?

We live on the banks
of the river 10 miles
upstream from there

without benefit
of clergy or doctors.

Very comforting.

The whole valley
is a Maori stronghold,

but you'll find our
settlement reasonably
comfortable and safe.

Are those friendly Maoris?

Well, they're my friends.
Perhaps they'll be yours

if you
treat them courteously
and keep your word,

never show fear before them.

But they're a dangerous
and strange people.

I've seen some
extraordinary exhibitions

of their ability
to predict the future.

Jacky-Poto and Kapua-Manga.

Have a look
at that river, Ozanne.

Perhaps someday
that water will travel
halfway around the world

and splash on the beach
at St. Pierre.

Marguerite, I want you

to go down to
the drapers and match
this silk for me.

Marguerite, I...

What are you
hiding from me,
Marguerite?

It's a secret, mama.

Is it a secret
that has anything to do

with your not marrying
any one of those
half-dozen young men?

My dear, I would
never insist upon
your marrying anyone,

but you have your life to live.

I have a life, mama,

in my thoughts and my dreams.

Oh, Marguerite.

Marianne. Home, Edward.

Yes, sir.

Papa.

Huh?

I believe
William Ozanne is dead.

No. I question that.
Only the good die young.

No. He's dead.

Only that would account
for his not writing once

since he sailed away
on the Orion.

Oh, I don't know.

If he were alive, nothing could
have kept him from writing to...

To you in common gratitude.

Well, that's true.

Or to me in friendship

or to Marguerite, of whom
he was once very fond...

In a childish way.

Oh.

No, papa.
William is dead.

Sophie,
come quick! She's fainted.

What? Mrs. Metivier,
Marguerite's fainted.

Get my smelling salts,
cold water, and towels.

Feather duster's what you need.

I tell you,
Marianne's fainted.
Sophie, where are you?

Marianne's fainted?
I don't believe it.

Neither do I,
but your father hasn't
lied to me for 30 years.

Let's go and see.

I've asked your mother
to come down.

Marianne, what is it?

A little cordial, dear.

No, no, no.
Some smelling salts.

No. Cognac would
be better, dear.

Quick. Look.
There. There.

Oh. Ah. Ah. There.

But who--

ma'am, it was like this--

I was waiting here
for Mr. Patourel when
the two of them came in,

and all I said was,
"here's a letter
for you, Mr. Patourel,

which I bring you
from William Ozanne
in New Zealand,"

and then...

Now, look, this one's fainted.

No. This one
hasn't fainted.

No. This one hasn't fainted.
This one's praying.

Then I'll be going.

But tell me about William.

What is he doing in New Zealand?

Isn't he still in the Navy?

Due to an unfortunate incident,

the lad severed his connection.

A good day to you all.

Marianne, the letter
is addressed to me.

Suppose I read it aloud, dear.

I will not be bullied
in my own household.

"Dear sir, it is a long time

"since I've had
the pleasure
of addressing you.

"Much has happened,
and I now feel

I have earned
the privilege
of writing."

The young blackguard
left the Navy...
A deserter, probably.

After all the money
I spent on him.

Mama, go on with the letter.

"I've been in
the lumber business
for over 2 years,

"and I can say
I am becoming a fairly
successful businessman.

"My partner is a man
of great ability,

"and we have developed
our little settlement

into a garden spot
with a comfortable
dwelling..."

What's been going on out there?

Has that fortune-telling
medicine man been reading
tea leaves again?

He says that a letter you wrote

was delivered today
on the other side
of the world.

How could he know that?

I personally gave it
to captain O'Hara myself
months ago.

I didn't even...

Hey, hold on.
Wait a minute.

It was about
a young woman,
wasn't it?

That's my own private affair.

Put down that drink.

Patourel girl?

Alright.

I was drunk.

I was in Wellington,
alone and miserable.

Alright. I was drunk.

Never had the courage
if I hadn't been drunk

to ask a wonderful
girl like that to come
all the way out here.

Which girl?

After all they did for me,

I write and offer her
my hand in marriage,

a life like this.

Which girl, I said?

Marguerite, of course.

"I do not know
what life has brought
you and your good wife,

"and as for your
lovely daughters,
they may have married,

yet I cannot but hope that..."

Oh, well, speak up.
What does the young
blackguard want?

"I cannot but hope that
your daughter Marianne
is still unmarried,

"that you would consider

"permitting her
to live in such a rough
but glorious country

as my wife."

As his wife?
Marianne?

The confounded cheek of it.

The outrageous,
overwhelming
conceit of a fool.

Sophie, here,
write my dictation.

Here. Here's pen, ink, paper.

Sit down here.
Now, write.
Mr. William Ozanne.

Father, you act as though

I've been insulted
instead of honored
by a marriage proposal.

No daughter of mine--

I'm old enough
to marry without your consent,

and that is exactly
what I intend to do.

Of course you are.

You're unjust to William.
If he was foolish
in the past,

he's now
written you a fine
and straightforward letter.

My daughter go and live

among a lot of
man-eating savages?

She's always wanted
to marry William.

She'll never marry
anyone else...

Will you, Marianne?

No.

And I'm going to marry William!

Everybody's insane
here except me.

Here.
Write a letter.

"Mr. William Ozanne.
Sir--

"you may return here,
and if at that time,

"Marianne still desires
to marry you,

"I will permit the banns
to be published,

"and in due course
and in the presence
of her family

and in her own church--"

I don't intend
to wait for any letter.

When does
the green dolphin sail?

On the 31st.

And I forbid you--

then I'm going on the 31st.

I forbid it!

O eternal lord god,

who alone spreadest out
the heavens

and rulest the raging
of the sea,

receive into
thy almighty protection

the persons of us, thy servants,

and the ship in which we serve.

Amen.

Look alive,
ye bat-eyed nincompoop!

Is it land, or is it a cloud?

Land ho!

Land off the starboard bow!

I'll take her in
with 4 topsails,
anchor, and jib.

Aye, aye, sir.

Serve the royals together!

Come on,
you son of a sea cook,
get up there!

Now hear me closely.

William Ozanne has no reason

to expect you on this ship,

so when we tie up at Wellington,

you can
shut yourself up
in your cabin,

and 3 days later,
we'll be on our way
again.

You don't want me
to marry William Ozanne?

The letter I gave your father

was handed to me
by a bleary-eyed
William Ozanne,

just out of a stinking saloon.

Surely it was
written more in
whiskey than in ink.

Had I known
it was a proposal
of marriage to you,

I'd have torn it
to bits and flung it
to the seven winds.

So help me, I would!

If William were
a fine, strong character,

what would he need me for?

The very reason
that he sent for me

is because he knows
that I can save him
from himself.

Oh, captain O'Hara,
I've loved you

since that first day
I came aboard
the green dolphin,

but there isn't
anything that you
can say to change me.

I'll make a fine man of William.

I will. I will!

Drink up, me lads.

The green dolphin's
pulling in if you
wants to meet her.

That proves no second sight.

Natives could have
sighted the ship
rounding the three kings

and sent word overland.

Now if she brings
a letter from Marguerite,

that's different.

Oh, come on.
Let's see.

Get a man on the bowline.

A man on bowline.

Oh, look.

Look there.

Start the spring easy.

Aye, aye, sir.

It can't be.

She came!

It's Marguerite!

Look again!

It's Marianne.

You stupid fool!

Did you put
the wrong name in
that drunken letter?

Even if I did,
why should Marianne come?

Did Marianne ever show
any signs of being
in love with you?

I think perhaps she did.

Then go on.
Wave to her.

Keep waving.
Wave your arm off!

I can't marry her.
I'm not in love with her.

Are you going to send
a girl like that
back home,

turned down by
a drunken young jackass,

too tipsy to remember
the right name of
the girl he loved?

No. You won't do that.

I might do it
in the name of truth
and common sense,

but you haven't got
either the strength
or the cruelty.

Now, listen.

Go to her.
Put your arms
around her.

Make her feel that you want her

and don't ever let down.

And remember--
her name is Marianne.

I hate what
I'm going to do,
but I'll do it.

I'll marry her,
just as my father married--

out of pity.

And don't worry.
I'll go through
with it.

Good luck, ma'am.
Thank you.

Congratulations, sir.

Mr. Morgan, all hands
splice the main brace.

And a double noggin
to every one of ye!

Oh, thank you, captain O'Hara.

Thank you
for my beautiful wedding.

Now with certain
documents to be
signed,

and since 'tis
sailing I am with
the sunrise tide,

would you mind lending me

your new husband for a trice?

Take him, captain.

With all my worldly goods
I him endow.

Ha ha ha!

I seem to recall
the best man didn't
kiss the bride.

You don't like me, do you?

Please, Mrs. Ozanne.
It's not that.

I'm... I'm anxious about you.

Anxious?

I've been very close
to your husband
for several years now,

and he has changed
since you knew him.

Mr. Haslam, I'm quite
capable of handling
my own family.

I merely suggest
for both your sakes

that... You be patient with him.

Oh, I'll be patient.

I have no idea that
my husband loves
me to distraction.

Actually,
he's never known
what real love is,

and I did not
travel halfway
around the world

expecting
any miracle to
have improved him.

Believe me,
I--I only want
to help you.

You can... Now.

Is there any reason
why we cannot leave

for the settlement
at once instead
of tomorrow?

You see, I refuse
to spend my wedding
night anywhere

except in
the home my husband
has provided for me.

Ha ha ha!

Oh, put it in there.

And as for father--
poor darling--

he's blind as a bat.

Here.
In the cupboard.

But, of course,
that's been coming
on for so long

that by now he hardly
knows whether he can see
anything or not.

Marguerite--
Is she well?

A good deal changed
from the young girl
you remember...

And like so many
beautiful women,

she's become spiritually lazy.

She hasn't--
She hasn't married?

Well, she's had many offers,

but I don't believe
she's been able to summon
the necessary emotion.

Oh, Hine-Moa,
in the bedroom, please.

Um, Mr. Haslam...

Whose idea was it,
shipping your timber
overland on those wagons?

Why, Ty's.

It's the only way
to ship timber.

Don't you know that
it is always cheaper

to transport
bulky goods by water?

Excuse me.

Now, look here, Marianne.

Ty knows the timber business.

And I know
the shipping business.
Sit down, Mr. Haslam.

Thank you.

Oh, that will
be all, Hine-Moa.
Thank you.

Aye.

You should
build barges,
large ones.

Float your timber
to the sea
down that river.

From there you can
ship it to anyplace
in the world.

Yes. I think that
that's quite possible.

Well, it will cut
your delivery costs
by two-thirds.

I believe that it would.

Now, Mrs. Ozanne,
I'm sure that
you'll excuse me.

Yes, of course, Mr. Haslam.

This is my wedding night.

Miss Marguerite,

this one's
in Mr. Ozanne's
handwriting.

It must be important.

Mrs. Metivier, I want you.

My daughter...

Marguerite...
I've something to say.

Mostly, Octavius,
my dear, for you.

I want Marguerite
to hear it, too.

Don't talk, Sophie dear.

When I married you, Octavius,

I did not love you.

The marriage
was forced on me
by my parents...

Against my will.

Oh, mama.

I was in love with another man.

No.

I came to you,
Octavius, with
a broken heart,

hating you.

Shh.

But from
the very beginning,
you were kind to me,

thoughtful, generous...

And soon I began to realize

that your love was
bigger than anything
I had ever felt.

I was humble
and frightened
in its presence,

but still I did not love you.

My dear, my dear.

There's no need to talk,
no need to tell.

But as the years went on,

something began to
grow in my heart--

at first, respect...

Then gratitude.

And the dashing
young prince
I'd once loved...

Faded from my dreams,

and, suddenly...

Before my eyes...
You, Octavius--

feeble-sighted,
without much hair,

no longer young...

But more splendid
than any dream
any girl ever had.

Do you know what I'm saying?

Do you, Marguerite?

Yes.

Yes, I'm trying to.

I've come to love your father

with a love so deep, so great...

That nothing
on earth can
compare with it.

Mama...

I know what you mean.

Apply it to your own life,

to your own lost
love, my dear child.

And now, Octavius...

My dear one, I've always known
all about it.

Octavius.
Yes.

Even before I married you.

My eyes were quite good then.

Remember?

So it was impossible
for me to mistake
the way you looked

when his name was mentioned.

Yes, Marguerite...

I've always known
your mother's beautiful
and honorable secret.

That's why I always
did what I could
for William.

William?
Yes.

Then...

I was in love with
William's father,

and you...

You knew always.

If I had thought
that Edmond Ozanne
could make you happy,

I would never have married you.

But I didn't believe
in his love,

and I did believe in mine.

I believed I'd be
a better husband,

a better father.

Octavius...

You are wonderful.

And, Sophie, I knew...

Even though you never
told me before...

Just when you began to love me.

Oh, but, Sophie...

Sophie...

Sophie...
I'm so proud...

And happy...

That you did tell me at last.

Oh, papa.

Leave me alone with her, dear.

Leave us together, Marguerite.

Please, little one.

Come on.
Read your letter.

Maybe it will help.

No. You read it to me, please.

"My dear sister-in-law,
I hasten to write you

"that Marianne will
go to Wellington soon,

"where she will have
the best of care

"for the arrival of our child.

Hoping this finds you--"

my daughter.

May I go to my father now?

Your father does
not need you now.

Quietly...

He has joined your mother.

God rest his soul.

Reverend mother!
Reverend mother!

Somebody's knocking
on the old door.

It must be Saint Peter!

Saint Peter?

Saint Peter. Come.
You can hear him
yourself!

Listen.

I hear nothing.

But I heard Saint
Peter knocking.

Please, may I unlock the door?

It is unlocked.

I unlocked it myself,
40 years ago.

Open it if you wish.

Pick her up.
Bring her
to my room.

Thank you,
reverend mother.
Thank you.

My poor, dear child.

Help me, help me.
I'm all alone now.

I'll try, my child.

There's no one to turn to.

I'm completely lost.

I... I can't think.

It's my mind.

I--it can't think.

I can't think.

Others have passed
through the same dark way.

There's no way for me to live.

You'll find a way.

Child, your tragedy
is not unique
in human history.

I needed my father
and mother because...

Because the man I love
turned away from me.

And now because
your parents have gone,

because your earthly
lover has failed you,

you imagine that god
has also withdrawn
his presence?

Yes.

The way in which the human race

perpetually insults
the almighty god

is quite deplorable.

Come. Let's see
if you can stand up.

Oh, yes, I can stand.
I can walk. I can run.

And if I could fly,
it wouldn't help.

Let us see if you can pray.

Thank you, reverend mother.

Oh, Marguerite.

Marguerite.

I have a little book here.

I read it myself
when I was
about your age.

Read it.

Then we may talk again.

That's a nice job
of loading, William.

Cleverly planned.

Yeah. My wife's idea.

Because it's
her idea, not yours,

I suppose the two
of you sat up all night
arguing about it?

Ty, I promised you
I'd stick to my bargain,

but I didn't agree to like it.

I want to see her. Tell her.

Good.

Yes, Mr. Haslam.

You've come to apologize
for William again.

No.

I brought you a gift.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Haslam.

Thank you.

Why do you dislike me so much?

Because you have
too much influence
with William.

I've been able
to influence William
on only one thing:

Not to give up when
he takes on a job.

Alright.
I failed in my marriage,

and you think I'm
making you the scapegoat
for my failure.

Your marriage is not a failure.

Huh! My husband hates me.

If I told you that hatred

was only
the reverse
side of love,

you'd really kill me, as usual.

It's not true.

You can no more
separate love
from hatred

than you can separate
the 2 sides of a coin.

To possess one is
to possess the other.

But I don't want
scientific explanations.

What do you want?

What do I want?

I love my husband
to the point of agony,

and yet there's neither
brightness nor warmth
in our lives.

What do I want?

Tell me, Mr. Haslam...

Have I been completely wrong
in my handling of William?

Or isn't it true
that he is infinitely
a finer and better person?

That's very true.
He has improved.

But you think
he would be happier

if I were more
submissive and helpless.

It would be a strange way

to win a husband
away from his weaknesses,

by developing
weaknesses of my own.

Still, I...

Marianne!

Marianne!

William.

About last night--

I'm sorry, Marianne.

William, have I been
a bad influence on you?

No man could have a better wife.

Perhaps... Perhaps
the boy will help
when he comes.

You're sure it's
going to be a boy?

I believe you would
rather have a girl,

but it's going
to be a boy.
I know it.

Oh, William...

Please let Mr. Haslam
take the barges
this time.

Stay here with me.

Cutting the timber is Ty's job.

Taking it to market is mine.

You know the green dolphin

will be waiting
at the sea coast
for this timber,

and captain O'Hara's
expecting me.

I can't let him down.

Oh, William.
William, what's
happened to us?

Even when we're in
each other's arms,

there always seems
to be a thousand
miles between us.

Oh, look, Marianne.

I've been a clumsy fool,

and I've made you wretched.

If you'll forgive me,
I promise I'll try
to do better.

Oh, yes, yes, William.

Good-bye, Marianne.

So we're left alone together.

Not for the first time.

As a rule, I see
very little of you
on these occasions.

Perhaps this time,
I shall see more.

Mr. Haslam, will you
please make those
natives stop singing?

No. That's the chant
of the earthquake god.

The natives believe
there's to be an earthquake.

Oh, William doesn't
believe it, and I imagine
you don't believe it,

but when your house
starts shaking,

stand in
the nearest doorway
and yell for me.

Hine-Moa.

The men have stopped working.

Go and see what's happened.

Aah!

Aah!

No!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Hine-Moa, tear
these things up.
I'll need bandages.

Right.

We should see the coast
around the next bend.

Big sea.

Yes.

My son...

I shall lose my son.

You'll have your son.

No. No, it's too soon.

Oh, Ty, get a doctor.

This isn't a country
where a doctor lives
on the next street.

Oh, my son.
I...

I thought at least
I would have...

Marianne, listen to me.

You'll have your child.
I know what's to be done.

Oh, no. No!

You've got to trust me.

Remember, this is
the sort of thing
that happens to women

who choose to live
in the back blocks.

And remember, you chose it.

Oh, I trust you.

I will try to give as...

As little trouble as possible.

Hine-Moa.

Hine-Moa!

Oh!

Here you are.
The first news
from the back blocks--

horrible disaster.
The green dolphin is missing.

Here you are. First news
from the back blocks--

horrible disaster.
The green dolphin is missing.

After 3 weeks,
only meager details.

The worst
catastrophe in
New Zealand history.

Exquisite.

Now you look
a bit more
like your old self.

This is no time
for compliments,
Mr. Haslam.

Tell me, is there
any definite news
of William?

Yes.
This time, there
is definite news.

Your husband
is alive.
He's quite safe.

The barges
were wrecked
in a tidal wave,

but he was able
to make his way
into Wellington.

You're not lying?

You swear you're
telling the truth--
William is alright?

I give you my word,
but now be calm.

Oh, but I am calm.

I have complete
control of myself.

My mental and physical
condition is remarkable,
Mr. Haslam.

It's no good, Marianne.

Now, face the situation.

We can't go
back to where
we were.

Why not be friends?

I'm not aware we're not friends.

William!

Poor Marianne.

What a terrible time you've had.

But, William, where have you--

it was so many days
before I knew

that anyone here was alive.

I'm in such a filthy state.

I should have
washed and changed,

but I was--

but you were so anxious
to see your child.

Well, William, there she is.

She.

She?!
Is it a girl?

Yes.
I'm afraid it is.

Why wasn't
I told? A girl!

I had no idea
a daughter would
mean so much to you.

You can tell she's going
to be fair-haired.

Just look at those eyes.

Yes. I've named her
Marguerite Veronica.

But we'll call her Veronica.

Time baby bath.

You may take her, Hine-Moa.

What's wrong, William?

Marianne...

Captain O'Hara's dead.

Dead?

He drowned.

And the green dolphin?

That's gone, too.

Well, tell me.

The green dolphin
was wrecked
by the tidal wave.

I swam out with a rope.

Well, how dared you?

You might have been drowned.

You should have thought
of your wife and child.

Captain O'Hara
insisted on being
the last ashore.

He stood
on the quarterdeck,
bellowing orders.

Then, suddenly,
before you could say
"Jack Robinson,"

the green dolphin
heeled over
and was gone

and him with it.

I swam out again.

I couldn't save him,

but I think he knows I tried.

Then you've paid
your debt to him,

and I'm proud of you, William.

Captain O'Hara...
Green dolphin...

Our last tie with home... Gone.

Everything else is
gone, too, Marianne:

Years of
hard work destroyed
in a single day.

We'll begin again.

We'll begin again, William,

and we'll do better.

We certainly will.

Tyharuru.

William...

Tell me, do you think
this is reassuring enough?

"My dear Marguerite,
do not worry about
the Maori war.

"True, it still
goes on up-- up north...

"Because the natives
who want to sell their land
to the white settlers

"are now killing the Maoris
who don't want to sell.

"But the new governor
expects to work out
a treaty of peace,

which is probably
accomplished by now."

Aren't you a bit
too optimistic,
even for Marguerite?

Peace can be arranged.

I could do it
if I were the governor.

Yeah. You probably could.

Hello there!

Uncle Ty! Uncle Ty!

Uncle Ty! Uncle Ty!

Well, you didn't
come in to see me today.

I've got some news for you.

Let's go inside.

Hine-Moa...

Good.

Heavy fighting's
broken out again.

Marianne and Veronica
must leave for
Wellington at once.

But the peace terms.
Why?

The governor's blundered badly.

Well, we have
men and guns.
We will fight.

You must take Veronica
to Wellington.

We'll build a stockade
around the house.

And turn this place into a fort?

Certainly.

That would be
the worst possible
mistake.

It would show
our friendly Maoris
we don't trust them.

Ty's right.
Oh, nonsense.

William, you argue
with your wife.

She never would listen to me.

You must take
Veronica to Wellington.
Don't you see that?

I see nothing of the sort.
Veronica and I stay here.

Stop and think, Ty,
and you'll realize
that I'm right.

Veronica and I are
far more likely
to be murdered

on a long journey to
Wellington than if we
stay here well-protected.

Yeah. There's something
to that, Ty.

As always, I bow
to your clever
reasoning.

May I do
anything for you
in Wellington?

Are you going to Wellington?

Yes, I am.

William, may I see
you outside for
a moment, please?

Marianne, please.

What is all this?

Are you trying to get rid of me?

Goodnight, daddy.

Goodnight, sweetheart.

Goodnight, mama.

Goodnight, dear.

Goodnight, Hine-Moa.

Well, pray for the best.

Ty's gone, and without him,

we'd never dare
make the trip
to Wellington.

Then get out every man you have

and start building
that stockade.

Come, Veronica.
Your dinner.

Come, dear.

Veronica...

Veronica, dear.
Come. You must wake up.

Come, shh.

No, no, no.
There, there.

Shh.

Shh.

Ohh...

Marianne!

Can you forgive me, William?

It was all my fault.

I wouldn't go to Wellington.

I made you build
that stupid
stockade.

No, you didn't make me.
You honestly convinced me.

So don't blame yourself only.

We're both guilty.

What's the matter, daddy?

It's alright.
Shh.

Uncle Ty!

Well, thank heavens
you're alright!

Ty, what happened?

Be quiet and listen.
When I went to
Wellington for help,

I expected
this invasion from
the northern tribe.

Yeah, but our own Maoris
turned on us.

And for good reason.
But now that's
our chance.

Our own Maoris
are out there
among the others,

and they're still my friends.

They were
strong enough
to get me in here.

Oh, William,
then everything
will be alright.

Now, whether they'll
have the influence
to get us out,

I don't know.

They're in council
now. That's why
this quiet.

Ty, what if they won't?

That's a chance
we'll have to take.

Chance?
But Veronica!

Bramsbottom and
hardcastle at brother's field.

179 pounds, 11 and threepence.

They're alright.
That's a good account.

Well, how do we stand
financially?

Well, I should say
we had enough
capital in the bank

to start ourselves
another future.

Well, how about
Caldwell Savell
and company?

148 pounds,
4 and eightpence halfpenny.

No. We can forget that one.

Oh.

You know, I've been
thinking about our future.

The Maori war is getting worse.

I think it would be
best if, well, if we were
to leave here and go south.

What?
South island?

I've been thinking, I said.

I haven't decided.
Let's talk it over.

John Martin...

What are the timber
prospects in south island?

Bad.

Ah, but there's
a great future
for sheep farming.

Sheep?!

What exactly
do you got in
mind, Marianne?

Sell our land at
the settlement and
take ship to south island,

find some good pastureland,

spend our capital
on it, hire
expert labor.

Soon there'll be
nothing about sheep
we won't know.

But why sheep?

I know timber.
I love it.

Why can't we stick to timber?

Because there's
a bigger future
in wool.

How do you know that?

Because I've an instinct
for these things.

I've an instinct
for making money.

Personally,
I can never
think of sheep

without connecting
them with job
in the Bible.

One time, job lost
all his sheep
and had boils.

That was just one bad year.

How much of this
is your business
instinct

and how much
the safety
of Veronica?

It's mostly
for the child's sake.

Ever since this Maori trouble,

she's been having
dreadful nightmares.

You know that, William.

She has a morbid
curiosity now about
fighting and soldiers.

I want to take her
where there is no fighting.

Yes, Ty. It's uncanny
the way you always bring
the hammer down on the nail.

It's really for Veronica's sake.

Well?

Well, William?

Well, if it's for
Veronica's good that
we should go south,

then we go south.

Then here's to
the flocks and
herds of job...

And no boils.

Ha ha!
Ha ha!

We'll go as soon as possible.

There's a great
suffering among
my Maori friends

caused by the colonials.

They need help.

I'm going back to them
with medical supplies.

Ty, we cannot wait
indefinitely--

I'll not prevent
you from leaving
whenever you like,

and all
my best wishes
will go with you.

But you're our partner.

Surely you'll come with us.

You don't know me
very well, Marianne.

I find very little value in life

aside from
my personal
independence.

That you and William
should join me in
my lumber business,

that was one thing.

That I should
follow along
at the tail end

of your biblical
migration like
a tame tabby cat,

that is another.

There you are, darling.

Say good-bye
to uncle Ty,
Veronica.

I'll go aboard
and see about
the luggage.

Oh, and, Marianne, try not
to fight with Ty your last
5 minutes together.

I'll try.

Come along, sweetheart.

Are you really hurt
that I'm not coming
with you?

Yes, I am.

I thought you had
a real affection

for William and Veronica.

I have...

And for you.

Then why not come with us?

The reason I gave.

You spoke of trailing after us.

You'd be what
you've always been:

The central figure
in the picture.

I thought
Marianne Ozanne
must always be that.

No. I know myself
better than
I used to.

I'm sure.

I really don't know
how I shall manage
without you.

I doubt it.

Oh, and don't
talk of losing
your independence.

A man in love
has no independence
worth mentioning.

Yes, Marianne, I love you.

I have for years.

You certainly didn't love me

when I first came out here.

Long before that.

At home, on the island,

when you were
a little girl
in your teens,

I used to worship you
from a distance.

On the island?

William never
told me you came
from St. Pierre.

It's no coincidence.

Captain O'Hara brought
us to the same place
for similar reasons.

I can never go home either.

I began by
loving you as a child.

I love your faults
as well as your virtues.

Have I still so many faults?

At least I'm not
proud now, am I?

No, you're not.

And I love you for that, too,

because I think I had
something to do with it.

Yes, you did...

A great deal.

Everything.

And that's why you love me.

Though you've hated me, too.

Remember what I said

that you can
no more separate
love from hatred

than you can
separate the 2
sides of a coin?

Well, you hated me

because
I saw too much
of your real self.

Then I found
when you were with me,

everything was alright.

You learned humility from me,

and you love me, don't you?

Ty, I love William
with every fiber
of my being,

but I love you, too,

for the qualities you have

are the ones I've tried
to develop in him.

Yes, Ty, I love you,

but I belong to William.

You still believe that?

But it's true.

William's love is
all I've ever wanted.

That's why I'm
not going with you.

You'll have more
chance of getting
what you want

if he has no one
to turn to but you.

But I have his love.

Don't be too sure.

This newfound
humility of yours
only goes skin-deep.

You have made progress,

but your battle isn't won yet.

Good-bye, Marianne.

I won't forget you...

Ever.

If I believed in souls,

I'd say that yours
and mine are a very
long acquaintance.

Veronica's in the cabin.

Good-bye, William.

You're glad to get
rid of a couple of
troublemakers, eh?

I'd not have
missed these years
for anything.

Not always happy--
all those rows
and arguments.

I wonder how you stood it.

Well, the adjustments
interested me.

Hmm.

You've made
a good job of Marianne.

Oh, most people,
including Marianne,

would say she'd made
a good job of me.

Only a fool could
have made that blunder
that you did,

but only a very fine man

could have saved her
from disaster.

Disa--ha ha!
Oh, Marianne?

If you hadn't
turned your life
into a magnificent lie,

she'd have certainly foundered.

And if you hadn't made
that idiotic mistake
in a girl's name,

I'd never have known her.

Ready, Mr. Ozanne.

We're about to cast off, sir.

Well...

Reverend mother.

What is it, sister Angelique?

A lady to see you,
reverend mother.

She sends you this little book.

Sit down, Marguerite.

It's a long time.

You read it?

Over and over,

to see if there
isn't some way
for me to live.

I seem to have
given up all
my girlhood friends.

I've dropped out of all life.

I belong to nothing or nobody.

And yet you do not
look so very unhappy.

I'm not unhappy.

I'm only...
Lost,

but I want to feel once again

that I'm following
some pattern
of life.

Sometime, god permits
deep disappointment
to enter our lives

in order to open up
our eyes to what
he wants us to do.

And so great is his magnanimity

that if we come
at last to his feet,

I think he cares
little how we came.

Am I good enough,
reverend mother?

Ask yourself, my daughter.

Keep asking yourself.

Uh, this the residence
of Mrs. William Ozanne?

Yes.

With the compliments
of captain Faucett

from her majesty's ship
Brighton.

What you doing tonight?

What sauce! I wouldn't
go out with you.

Besides, we got a party on.

Thank you.

Listen, mama.
Mr. Anderson is making
a speech.

Yes, dear.

Gentlemen, 2 years ago,

this group sponsored
the organization of
a steamship company.

Aye... And look what
the shares are quoted at today.

Of course,
the original idea came from...

Mr. William Ozanne.

You know...

I'm thinking he must have
Scottish antecedents.

Gentlemen...

I give you the health of
the most popular man in Dunedin:

Mr. William Ozanne.

To William Ozanne.

Thank you, gentlemen.

I think your toast
might well be to New Zealand

or to the steamship itself,

which as Mr. Anderson
so candidly puts,

has done so much good
for all of us.

But, certainly, instead of me,

I think your toast should have
been given to my wife

because in New Zealand
or Timbuktu,

with sheep, wool,
steam, or with timber,

any man influenced
by such a woman...

Must succeed.

It is to her that
I owe whatever small
accomplishments I've made.

There, Veronica.
You've heard your
father's speech.

Now you must go
to bed. Come along.

How was the party?

Beautiful.
Weren't you listening?

Yes.

All those things
you said about me,

they made me blush.

Oh, but they were true.

Ah, but you
were generous,
far too generous.

Uh, William...

There's something I want
to talk to you about.

Mm-hmm.

Let's sell out here and go home

to our real home--
St. Pierre.

Back to St. Pierre?
Why?

Because of...
Of Marguerite.

Marguerite.

But she's going to become a nun.

But she's still a novice,

and we can see her
before she takes
her final vows.

But why?

Here we have everything--

the finest house in Dunedin,

and--and--

but, William, this
isn't really our home.

There's that beautiful
house in St. Pierre,

empty, waiting for us.

Then there's the family business

that you could now run
most efficiently.

But I can't go back.

There's a little
matter of desertion

from her majesty's Navy.

Come here.

There.

It's taken me
more than a year
to arrange that.

"After due consideration,
it has been decided

"that William Ozanne
is to be allowed
to resign honorably

"from the royal Navy,

"and that in regard to
the charges of desertion,

"it has been instead
officially pronounced

involuntary absence from duty."

Think what home
will mean to Veronica,

the opportunities she can have.

But mostly, William,
it's Marguerite,

my own sister.

You never knew what it
cost me to leave my home,

come out to this new
country to marry you.

I want to go home, William.

I do so want to go home.

May I look now?

No, not yet.

Now?

N-n-n-now!

That's where mama was born.

But how will
father Christmas know

we've moved from New Zealand?

Oh, he has ways of finding out.

Oh!

Miss Marianne!

God loves us! Oh!

Oh, no, no, no.

Mrs. Metivier, no.

Do you think
you could find
a Dolly

at grandpa's office?

I wouldn't be at all surprised.

Good-bye, sweetheart.

Good-bye.

Papa's gone.

4 sheets,
12 pillowslips,
embroidered.

Here, Veronica.

Let's see.
You may help mama.

Take this into your bedroom.

Oh, and put it on the bed, dear.

4 linen sheets.

Oh, there's a tear in this one.

Very well put it to one side.

What about my letter?

Oh, the tide
was out, and the young
man's already back.

The young man
delivered your letter
to the mother superior

and will reach
miss Marguerite at once.

Thank you.
Oh!

What is it, dear?

Look, mama.

Well, where did you find it?

In this box.

Oh?

May I wear it?
May I?

Yes, dear.

Oh, look, Mrs. Ozanne.

I found these 2
embroidered pillowcases.

I suppose you used these
when you were children.

This one would come in
very well for Veronica.

After all,
her name's Marguerite.

Oh, good evening, Mrs. Metivier.

Where's Mrs. Ozanne?

In her room.

She's not feeling well, sir.

Too much unpacking
to my way of thinking, sir.

Hello, my dear.

Tired yourself out, did you?

I'm tired, too.

Your father's business
is quite a terrifying
institution.

What's the matter, Marianne?

Is it--
Is it Marguerite?

Have you heard from her?

Yes, I've heard from Marguerite.

Tomorrow she is to become a nun.

It would seem
we arrived
just in time.

I found this today.

This was written
a long time ago,
Marianne.

Nevertheless,
you loved Marguerite.
You loved her.

But that's all past now.

But when you wrote
my father, you lied.

You asked
for my hand in marriage.

I didn't lie.

Listen to me,
Marianne. I love you more--

listen to more lies?

You never loved me.

You loved her,
but you sent for me. Why?

It wasn't a lie.
It was only--

why did you send for me?

I'll tell you, Marianne.

Now I must tell you.

I never wanted you to know.
I never thought you'd find out.

But now...

What did you never
want me to find out?

That I accidentally
wrote your name
instead of Marguerite's

in the letter to your father.

You accidentally wrote my name?

And our whole marriage
has just been...

A slip of the pen?

Marianne...

Does Marguerite know
of... Of your slip
of the pen?

No. Absolutely not.

I never even so much
as hinted anything.

Oh, please believe me, Marianne.

I never told a living soul.

Oh, that's not quite true.

I told Tyharuru.

Oh, I had to tell him.

Tyharuru knew?

He knew that you hated me.

I thought I'd reached

the lowest depths
of degradation,

but I didn't expect this.

So Ty knew.

Of course he knew.

Now I understand everything.

Why, you would never
have married me

if he hadn't forced you into it,

would you, William?

Oh, William...

William, don't
ever, ever speak
to me again.

Good morning, Mrs. Metivier.

Has Mrs. Ozanne
come downstairs
yet?

She left the house
an hour ago, sir.

Miss Marguerite
takes her vows
to the church today.

Had you forgotten, sir?

Thank you.

Oh, Marianne.

Marguerite.

Oh, my dear, even when you were

on the other side of the world,

I always felt you near to me.

Marguerite...

Yesterday I found the letter

William sent you
with the necklace.

He intended to ask you
to come to New Zealand,

but when he wrote father,
he put in my name by mistake.

Then when I came instead of you,

he married me out of pity.

Oh, Marguerite,
don't you hear me?

Don't you realize
what I'm saying?

I knew you were
in love with him.

I knew he had
an affection for you.

I made myself believe
it was only a childish
infatuation,

so I fought you for him,

and I always thought
that I'd won him fairly...

But he's never loved
anyone but you.

Was it just an accident

that you found the letter?

Just chance, do you think?

Perhaps there is
less chance in life
than we realize.

Perhaps it was intended

to bring out the truth at last.

Oh, but when I think
of what your life
has been--

a heartbreak.

Do I look like
a heartbroken woman?

But you're becoming a nun
because William married me.

At first,
when you went away
to marry him

and when your child was born,

there was nothing left for me

but chaos and hopelessness.

Ohh...

Oh, Marguerite.

Marguerite, can you
ever forgive me?

There is no question
of forgiveness.

Marianne.

Your husband is here in my room.

He wants to talk to you.

He loves you.

I'll send him to you.

No.

I ask you to do this for me.

Tell William that I've outgrown

the young, selfish
love of a girl
in her teens,

that I've found
here what I've
been searching for

all my life.

Tell him this is
the way everything
was meant to be.

You were destined
to accomplish
his salvation.

I was destined for this.

I was
swept up to thee
by thy beauty...

And if I was once unhappy,

today I am supremely happy,

not because I've
given up something,

but because
I've been given
everything.

Tell him this...

And then, when
you hear the chapel
bells ringing,

then bring him to see me.

Marianne, so there
shall be no doubt
in your mind,

I've come here to see Marguerite

to tell her that
much as I loved
her once,

my love is now only for my wife.

What kind of love can that be--

something manufactured
out of your sense of duty?

It would be an unhappy world

if the only kind of love
was the love of youth.

And suppose
I didn't love you
when I married you.

You weren't a very
lovable person then.

I didn't want
to love you.
I didn't try to,

but something great
and wonderful was borne
out of our relationship,

our accommodating ourselves
to each other's failings,

our learning to know
each other's virtues.

Oh, this is far more
worth having than any
other love I can think of.

Marianne, don't you see?

It was no slip
of the pen that
brought you to me.

It was something
far greater than us,

something beyond my control.

Oh, I--I do love you, Marianne.

Now that I know
how much, a whole
new life is ahead of us.

Come with me to Marguerite

so that I can tell her the truth

and so that you'll
know that I...

I only want you.

Oh, William.

Oh, William.

This love of yours...

This love that grew
out of our marriage...

Has it all the warmth
and glory...

All the passion
and tenderness...

Everything that
you once wanted
love to be to you?

More than I ever dreamed of.

And now, with
absolute truth
between us,

it will be as perfect a love

as there can be on this earth.

Ohh...

Oh, William.

William, I'm so proud of you.

Go now, my children,

and be invested in the habit

of the congregation
of the sisters of Saint Peter.

May the blessing
of almighty god--

the father, the son,
and the holy ghost--

descend upon you
and remain forever.

Amen.