All language subtitles for THE CONTRACT

Mr. Chandos was a man
who spent more time with his gardener...

than with his wife.

They discussed plum trees...
ad nauseam.

He gave his family and his tenants
cause to dread September...

for they were regaled with plums
until their guts rumbled like thunder...

and their backsides ached
from overuse.

He built the chapel at Fovant...

where the pew seats
are of plum wood...

so the tenants still have cause to
remember Chandos through their backsides...

on account of the splinters.

Some years ago,
two gentlemen went back to Amsterdam...

saying that Allhevinghay
was just like home.

There was so much water,
so many ornamental ponds...

so many canals,
so many sinks and basins.

There was even a wind pump.

What they had not realized was...

my father had made his land
into a pattern of reservoirs...

because he was terrified of fire.

There was even a room
under the front stairs...

that housed 200 buckets...

all of them filled with water.

I know because
whenever I was taken short...

my brothers and I used to
rush in there and use them.

Those buckets were filled
before my mother died.

I expect them to be still there...

with the same water of 30 years ago,
I shouldn't wonder...

mixed with a little of myself, of course.

I used to pee like a horse.

I still do.

At Southampton,
there is a house I have admired...

because from the side
it looks so flat.

It is of white Portland stone...

and on a cloudy day, it looks as though
it might be attached to the sky.

- Especially in the evening.
- Its owner is a Miss Anterim.

She is a lady without a husband.

From the side, Miss Anterim is
also a lady without significance.

Maybe that is why, unlike her house,
the lady is unattached.

What with one flatness
and another, Mr. Neville...

as a painter
and as a draughtsman-

You could be entertained, it seems.

Especially in the evening, from the side.

It is said that the Duc de Courcy
invited his water mechanic...

to the top of an elaborate cascade
he had built...

and asked him if he could build
such a marvel for anyone else.

The man, after offering
various thanks and pleasantries...

finally admitted that with
sufficient patronage he probably could.

The Duc de Courcy pushed him
gently in the small of the back...

and the wretched man
plummeted to a watery death.

Now, Mr. Noyes, do you have
a ribald piece of gossip for me?

Madam, I am here to fulfill
a role as entertainer...

sol am sure that sooner or later
I could find something for you.

Then you are here on merit- a characteristic
that the rest of the company does not share...

being here merely to express
confidence in one another's money.

- Madam, you are one of the company.
- My meretricious conduct-

in the company of Mr. Seymour
has been my invitation.

I am strictly not of the company,
but a part of its property.

Since that is what the company
is here to discuss and to revel in...

you should be well favored.

I would well favor you myself above
two parterres and a drive of orange trees.

You are not extravagant
in your compliments, Mr. Noyes.

As yet I'm not wealthy enough to
offer you more, but I intend to be so soon.

In the present company of 13
that owns a fair slice of England...

two parterres and a drive
of orange trees is a beginning.

And being a lady of the, uh,
Italian fashion, madam...

you will appreciate
the value of oranges.

They smell so sweet.
They are so invigorating.

Do you think your father will ask
Mr. Neville to draw the house?

Why not improve Mr. Neville's chances,
and yours, by inviting Mr. Neville yourself?

Oh, that is a too imaginative
stratagem for me.

Your father would find it
uncharacteristically bold.

Then you could surprise him...

and perhaps surprise
Mr. Neville as well.

And if that frightens you, Mother,
we could lay the blame on Mr. Neville.

I hold the delight or despondency
of a man of property...

by putting his house in shadow
orin sunlight.

Even, possibly, I have some control
over the jealousy...

or satisfaction of a husband...

by depicting his wife, sir,
dressed or undressed.

which has a ring of impertinence.

She knows I have a garden.
How come she does not know I have a wife?

Perhaps because you boast of one
and not the other...

but I suspect a sense of modesty is an
impertinence to such a lady as Mrs. Clement.

Your mother takes a sense of modesty
an unprecedented distance.

Why doesn't she come out more?
She frets in the shadows.

She does not fret, Father.

Or if she does, you well know
the cause is your indifference.

A house, a garden, a horse, a wife-

- the preferential order.
- Nonsense.

I am anxious, Mr. Neville,
that you should draw my husband's estate.

Why is that, madam?

My husband is a proud man
who is delighted to be associated...

with every brick and every tree
of his property...

at every moment of his waking life,
and no doubt in his dreams as well...

though I have not been
too well acquainted with his dreams since-

Madam, with such an excellent relationship
as your husband has with his property...

he surely, having the real thing,
does not need a copy.

I do not take well
to young men who preen.

Their vanity usually
outweighs their prowess.

Mr. Neville has prowess enough,
enough to charm where he cannot impress.

And he can charm and impress
the wives of rich men.

That's not so uncommon,
Mr. Seymour.

You come with me
to Southampton tomorrow.

I'll show you how to impress a lady
with a good drawing on.

My father's property, Mr. Neville...

is a little more forward than humble.

And since humility in a building
is not antithetical to you...

perhaps I can prevail on you
to draw my father's house?

Ah. The same proposition
from a different quarter.

A concerted effort naturally
intrigues me...

but I feel, madam,
things being as they are-

May I be bold? I do not think that you
or your mother could afford my services.

Come and walk in Mr. Herbert's
garden tomorrow.

Madam, I cannot say
that I would not be delighted...

but I fear, despite your persistence...

that I have work to do
up and beyond this coming apple season...

and will be in the service
of Lord Charborough...

until next year's apples
have all been drunk as cider.

Your mother, madam, is excessively keen
to have this house down on paper.

Or perhaps it is you that is keen,
and your mother is merely your surrogate.

I admit, Mr. Neville, to being
a supplicant on my mother's behalf...

but she does not want it for herself,
but for her husband.

The supplication then
has a long and diverse path.

I am flattered.

But may not Mr. Herbert himself
do his own commissioning?

The point of the exercise, Mr. Neville,
is to avoid that one thing.

You, Mr. Neville, are to be
the instrument of a hopeful reconciliation.

Mr. Neville...

how can I persuade you
to stay with us at Compton Anstey?

You cannot, madam.

But you can be bought, Mr. Neville.
How much will it cost?

But I must confess, my prime reason is indolence.

I increase my price in proportion
to my expectation of pleasure.

I do not expect
great pleasure here, madam.

Madam, I'm to leave very early
in the morning for Southampton.

I've come to take
my leave of you now.

Do not order the hay to be cut.

Do not leave the estate,
and do not drink my claret.

And do not expect me back until I am ready,
which at the very least will be 14 days.

Good night, madam.

I have decided...

that it is most important
that you stay here...

to make for me 12 drawings
of my husband's estate.

My husband is to go to Southampton
for at least 12 days.

- Will that be enough time for you?
- First, madam, you make a demand...

that suggests we have not discussed
the proposition at all this evening.

Second, you increase
your demand by at least 12.

Third, you add to the proposition
a time limit.

And, fourth,
you expect me to start at once.

Four factors, Mr. Neville, you have convinced
us are well within your talents and capabilities.

Your terms are exorbitant.

So must mine be.

The conditions of the agreement,
Mr. Noyes, are:

my services as draughtsman for 12 days...

for the manufacture of12 drawings...

of the estate and gardens,
parks and outlying buildings...

of Mr. Herbert's property;

the sites for the I 2 drawings
to be chosen at my discretion...

though advised by Mrs. Herbert.

For which, Thomas, I am willing
to pay eight pounds a drawing...

um, to provide full board
for Mr. Neville and his servant...

and, uh-

And, madam?

And to agree to meet
Mr. Neville in private...

and to comply with his requests
concerning his pleasure with me.

Curriculum for the execution
of the drawings at Compton Anstey.

For drawing number one...

from 7:00 in the morning
until 9:00 in the morning...

the whole of the back of the house...

from the stable block to the laundry garden,
will be kept clean

No person shall use the main
stable yard gates whatsoever.

And no person shall use
the back doom.

Or interfere with the windows
or furniture of the back part of the house.

"A" is for apricot.

"M" is for Marilla.

"C" is for Citrona.

Citrona.

"A" is for Ananas.

- Ananas,
- Ananas,

"P” is for pineapple,

For drawing number two...

from 9:00 in the morning
until 11:00..

the lower lawns of the house,
including the formal garden...

Will be kept clean

No window in the upper part
of the house will be opened...

closed or otherwise disturbed.

Your Mr. Neville, Sarah...

has the godlike power
of emptying the landscape,

It is a wonder the birds still sing.

If they stopped, I doubt whether Mr. Neville
would appreciate the difference.

His attitude to nature
is strictly material.

Thomas, why is Mr. Neville
interested in my sheets?

Madam, he is to
draw them wet outside the laundry

Wet? Why does he want them wet?

Madam, I cannot answer you that

Perhaps he has ford memories
of being a baby

For drawing number three...

from 11:00 in the morning until 1:00...

The back and north side of the house
will be kept clean

This area that is used
as a place for drying linen...

Will be left as asked for
on an arrangement made...

between the draughtsman
and the laundress...

who will take full responsibility...

for the disposition of the linen.

Madam, I am delighted to see that you've
loosened your clothing as I requested.

When your husband
had the pear trees grafted...

do you know if he asked for the advice
of Mr. Seymour's gardener?

We-

Sorry, madam, you do not speak very loud.

We-

We do not know
Mr. Seymour's gardener-

-I see.
- Mr. Neville.

The trees have been
poorly ca red for.

The angle between the branches
and the main trunk is, uh, too steep.

But the original work is good.

And what of
the pears themselves, madam?

In season, are they presentable?

For drawing number four...

from 2:00 until 4:00 in the afternoon...

the front of the house
that faces west will be kept clean

No horses, carriages
or other vehicles...

Will be allowed to be placed there...

And the gravel on the drive
will be left undisturbed.

No coals are to be burned that will
issue smoke from the front of the house.

And hurry up!

For drawing number five...

from 4:00 in the afternoon
until 6:00 in the afternoon...

the hilltop prospect of the estate
to the north of the house...

will be kept clear of all members
of the household staff and farm servants.

Such animals as are presently
grazing in the fields...

will be permitted
to continue to do so.

- Good day, Mr. Neville.
- Mr. Talmann.

I see you have selected a fine view
for my son to inherit.

I prefer, for the moment at least...

to regard the view
as the property of Mr. Herbert.

Thomas...

see that Clarissa does not go
to the laundry around noon.

And come to my
withdrawing room this afternoon with some ink.

I want to send to Mr. Herbert to know
by which road he in tends to re turn.

Is it your intention to continue
to stand there, Mr. Talmann?

I can see the view very adequately
from here, Mr. Neville. Thank you.

Will you be wearing
the same clothes tomorrow?

Why?

I have not decided.

Depends on my servants.

Is it important?

Maybe I will.

For drawing number six...

from 6:00 in the evening until 8:00...

the lower lawn of the garden
by the statue of Hermes...

will be kept clear
of all members of the household..

staff horses and other animals.

Philip, go and ask those people to move.

And ask them nicely. Smile.

Don't trot.

Go away.

Where?

Really? Not that I know.

Oh.

Mr. Lucas was a man whose enthusiasms...

Were divided equally
between his garden and his children.

Whenever his wire conceived
Mr. Lucas planted fruit trees,

His wife seldom came to, um,
a successful labor...

and those children she was blessed with
died before weaning

Mr. Lucas threatened to cut
his trees down, but he never did

To date there are 11 trees
in his fruit garden...

and he knows them all
by their Christian names.

-- The English are not blessed...

with the most appropriate fecundity
at the moment.

They can raise colonies
but not heirs to the throne.

It depends, Mr. Talmann,
which colonies you are speaking of.

Some of England's oldest colonies
have heirs in plenty.

Ah, Mr. Neville...

do we have an indication
of Scottish sympathies?

Madam, you would be reading far too much
into what is simply a statement of fact.

If the best Englishmen
are foreigners, Mr. Neville...

and that seems to me to be
a simple statement of fact...

then the best English painters
are foreigners too.

There's no English painter
worthy of the name.

Would you agree, Mr. Neville...

to be an English painter
is a contradictory term?

Then Mr. Herbert shows some sense
In encouraging Mr. Neville.

Mr. Herbert, madam, as we all know,
is full of contradictions.

Contradictory enough, sir,
to have invited you into this house...

despite his being a man
without airs and graces.

But not privy to whom his wire
welcomes into his house madam,

when my father is away, Louis...

My mother is at liberty
to run his house as she feels fit.

- And she has seen fit to invite Mr. Neville.
- A gracious speech, Mrs. Talmann.

To hide all manner of inconveniences.

- How is that, sir?
- It is apparent, sir, is it not...

from our meeting this afternoon,
that your presumptory regime...

not only extends to confining the household
like animals in reservations...

but directing us as to whether or not
we should wear a coat...

carry a walking stick or whistle.

When I met you in the garden this afternoon,
you were doing all three of those things, sir.

If you intend being there tomorrow...

I would wish you to dress
and to behave in the same way.

However, it's beyond my power
to describe a whistle pictorially...

whether it comes from an Englishman
or from a German dressed as an Englishman.

-- And what do you do about the birds, Mr. Neville?

If you ignore their song,
you can hardly prevent them...

from flying across
the field of your vision.

Madam, the prospect
of12 fine-weather days...

with clear skies and sharp shadows...

is an excellent proposition,
but not to be guaranteed.

So I am naturally anxious
that time should not be wasted

It would assist me greedy
therefore, madam...

if my instructions, which have been given
great consideration, should be observed.

I'm painstaking enough to notice
quite small changes in the landscape.

Once started, I make that a committal, madam...

Whatsoever ensues.

And I think you can surmise...

that it is an attitude from which
I obtain great satisfaction...

and some entertainment.

Thomas, can you remember...

when Mr. Herbert had his clothes packed,
whether he took his French boots?

How is it, Mr. Neville, that you have contrived
to make the garden so empty of people?

The authority for these drawings, Mr. Talmann,
comes from Mrs. Herbert.

Do you think that she is a woman
who enjoys having a crowd of people...

kick her gravel around or move her earth
like a pack of dogs in a herb garden?

I would seek peace and quiet
in a garden...

and noise and excitement
at a carnival.

Carnem levare.

So, Mr. Neville, you would reserve
your revelries for a religious occasion?

- And what of Gethsemane?
- A wild sort of garden, I shouldn't wonder.

Certainly, Mr. Talmann, there would be
no geometric paths and no Dutch bulbs.

Well, we have a cedar of Lebanon
and a judas tree.

Perhaps we could cultivate
a tree of heaven.

The gardens of England
are becoming veritable jungles.

Such exotics are grossly unsuitable,

If the Garden Of Eden was planned for England
God would have seen to it.

The Garden of Eden, Mr. Talmann,
was originally intended for Ireland...

for it was there, after all,
that Saint Patrick eradicated the snake.

The only useful eradication that
ever happened in Ireland, Mr. Neville...

was performed by William of Orange
four years ago on my birthday.

And happy birthday to you, Mr. Talmann.

And if you are not too old
to receive presents...

perhaps the gardener and I
can find a snake for your orangery.

What?

- Good day to you, Mr. Neville.
- Good day, madam.

Philip.

I see the company
is assembled, madam.

And what are we to be spectators of?

You must not be surprised, Mr. Neville.
We are here at your request.

I did not request an audience, madam,
nor a dinner on the grass.

Ah, perhaps we are
to applaud the view.

The scribbler is never satisfied.
He is as insatiable as a-

You have said
that Mr. Talmann should be here...

dressed as you asked
and carrying a gold-topped cane.

We have taken you at your word.

There was another instruction,
but conveniently I have forgotten it.

- Whistling, Sarah.
- So much for convenience.

You do not catch me in the best of tempers,
Mr. Neville, wearing yesterday's clothes.

And I give you 2O minutes only.
I have a horse to exercise.

Then, sir, please take your place.

I will take a walk.
Come with me, Maria.

We have a dog to exercise.

A little to the left, sir, if you please,

And puff out your cheeks.

- Why should I do that?
- Because last time, sir, you were whistling.

A tune perhaps not readily recognizable,
even by its own composer.

Look, madam.

This man has no head-

a typical German characteristic.

Mr. Neville...

you're talking about my son-in-law.

By the grace of God, madam, you are
to have a grandson by him... someday.

-- Is that not a better thing to talk of?

Then you mock my money
and my person to draw caricatures.

With my memory,
three pictures in the house...

and your personal knowledge
of the subject...

I intend to place the head
of Mr. Herbert on these shoulders...

as a fitting and appropriate acknowledgement
of your husband and his property.

if he should return,

Why, madam, what a strange thing to say.

If he should return home to me.

Mother.

So...

I am grieving...

because Mr. Herbert is away.

Yes, Mother.

The contract is void, Mr. Neville.

I cannot meet you again.

Mrs. Herbert, sit here.
Move your head into the shade.

Do you not think the gardeners
have excelled themselves?

You should not continue
to draw, Mr. Neville.

I no longer feel able to continue
the terms of our contract.

The fee is yours,
as is the hospitality.

I was about to say
that despite all my satisfaction...

at the prospect of continuing the commission
under such delightful circumstances...

the peak of my delight, madam...

is obtained in those short minutes
when we are together.

I would regret losing them.

Besides, I do not need to remind you...

that the contract was made
between two people.

It will take the consent
of both signatories to make it void.

And now, madam,
I feel that from this position...

I cannot adequately see
what I am supposed to be seeing...

and I must therefore request
that you find some other resting place.

At least until 4:00, when our next meeting
is to be consummated as arranged.

Madam, who is this child who walks the garden
with such a solemn look on his face?

That is my husband's nephew, Mr. Neville.

He attracts servants
like a little midget king.

What is his patrimony, madam?

His father was killed at Ausbergenfeld.

His mother became a Catholic,
so my husband had him brought to England.

To be reared as a little Protestant.

He was an orphan, Mr. Neville,
and needed to be looked after.

An orphan, madam,
because his mother became a Catholic?

Philip, find out what's happening

Mr. Neville, sir, I'm sorry about the coat.

It was not I that put it there.

Is that so, madam?

- And who did?
- I'll ask, sir

No. No, don't ask.
Leave it there.

Someone's getting careless.
The garden is becoming a robe room.

I wonder what they keep
in their clothespress-plants perhaps.

Who will be your husband's
direct heir after you?

A future grandson, Mr. Neville,
though not after me.

Mr. Herbert does not believe
in a woman owning property.

And what about your daughter
and her husband?

Well, they would be guardians
on the grandson's behalf.

Do you intend
to study legal matters, Mr. Neville?

You must forgive
my curiosity, madam, and open your knees.

To have possession, sir, of my person...

is not an excuse
to be privy to my husband's will.

Your loyalty is exemplary, madam.

But what will happen to the estate
if your daughter has no heirs?

I do not like to think of it.

The estate was my father's.

Mr. Herbert obtained it
through marriage to me.

It is imperative, Augustus,
that in representing me...

You ask of yourself
the very best...

and you do not fraternize
with whomsoever you choose.

And chasing sheep is a tiresome habit
best left to shepherds.

If Mr. Neville chases sheep,
he is not to be emulated.

Drawing is an attribution
worth very little...

and in England,
worth nothing at all.

If you must scribble, I suggest that your time
would be better spent in studying mathematics.

I will engage a tutor.

And who knows?
One clay you, Augustus...

may add the Talmann name
to the Royal Society.

Augustus!

Your tutor, of course,
must be German.

There are already far too many
English influences on your life as it is.

Mr. Neville is our resident draughtsman.

He is making one or two drawings
of Mr. Herbert's house and estate.

I've heard of your prowess, Mr. Neville.

Indeed I've heard more than that.
I've heard you're not a conventional man.

Mr. Neville has planned his stay here
like an officer in an hostile billet.

We have orders to appear and disappear...

to wear cocked hats,
to eat meals in the open air...

and to prepare furniture
for inspection.

And yet, Louis,
I hear that you are not averse...

to exchanging exercise
on a new horse...

for standing to attention
in the hot sun like a halberdier

What control you must exercise, Mr. Neville.

It sounds as if you might be
better employed as a military man...

rather than as someone
who merely draws a landscape,

Mrs. Herbert, whatever is the price you must pay...

to capture this general
who leads the wheat by the ear?

Gentlemen, Mrs. Herbert
pays no price she cannot afford

And thanks to her generosity,
I am permitted..

to take my pleasure
without hindrance on her property...

And to enjoy the, uh, maturing delights
of her country garden.

And, gentlemen-

there is much there
to be surprised at, and applauded.

Board.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Talmann.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Neville.

You are late. I heard the clock strike 4:00
some several minutes ago.

That is indeed true.
I met Mr. Porringer.

I'm becoming
Mr. Porringer's taster of vittles.

Does the same thing happen to you?

Today, it was raspberries.

I congratulate you on today's raspberries
but not on yesterday's damsons.

They were tasteless-
geschmacklos--

like your coat, Mr. Talmann.

There is no way, Mr. Neville,
that I was going to wear that coat a third day.

We are indeed, Mr. Talmann,
losing the novelty of this situation.

First, I was graced
with the presence of Mrs. Talmann...

two servants, a maid
and a meal served on silver plate.

Now what have we?
Yourself dressed in the wrong clothes.

Mr. Neville, enough.
Your enthusiasm for complaint knows no limit.

For a fee of eight pounds,
your impertinence is too expensive!

Would you have me be
impertinent for nothing, sir?

For nothing, Mr. Neville, I would have you
run off my property! Good clay!

Your property, Mr. Talmann?

Mr. Talmann.
Ah, you've forgotten your riding boots.

They are not mine, Mr. Neville.

I felt sure that they were yours.

Why doesn't your husband
have the moat cleaned out?

He doesn't like to see the fish.
Carp live too long.

They remind him of Catholics.

Besides, from his window
the duckweed could be mistaken for lawn.

Can he swim?

I've never seen him swim,

Ah, good morning, Mrs. Herbert.

This morning I'm progressing well.

I am beginning to enjoy myself.

Madam, would you be so good as to sit?

It's a little chilly perhaps,
but I think you tremble too much.

It is not easy for me this way
to use your person as I would like to.

Madam, would you stand?

The ladder, madam, as you can see,
has now become...

a meretricious vertical...

But I forgive you
for standing it there,

What use have I for the ladder, Mr. Neville?
It does not go anywhere,

Madam, would you be so good as to kneel?

Kneel, madam.

If you have any influence over your son-in-law...

could I suggest that he travel over
to Mr. Seymour's...

to see what can be done with limes
by doing as little as possible,

Limes, madam, can smell so sweet.

Especially when they are allowed
to bloom without hindrance,

And it will shortly be time to bloom.

Is it true, Mr. Noyes, that you would wish
to see Mr. Herbert dead?

I've no great love for Mr. Herbert.

- Goodness, Mr. Neville, a provocative question.
- Then why stay?

Mr. Noyes has a great attachment
to my mother, Mr. Neville.

I'm employed by Mr. Herbert as estate manager

Mr. Herbert is very often away, and I believe
I can make myself useful to Mrs. Herbert

In more ways than one I presume,

But is it not that way
which is most important?

Your questions, Mr. Neville, are far too
imprudent and provocative in this company.

Then you would rather I asked them
behind your back, Mr. Talmann?

Mr. Noyes' position in this house
is well known to us all, Mr. Neville.

It is a- a difficult position.

I'm surprised
that you all concur in it.

The organization of this house
is Mr. Herbert's affair

- My father and Mr. Noyes were once great friends.
- And then?

My mother was at one time
promised to Mr. Noyes.

Ah. Your position, Mr. Noyes,
is then a consolation,

You overstep your privileges
in being a guest in Mrs. Herbert's house!

Sit down, Mr. Noyes.
I merely pursue an inquiry.

It may help me to understand
what is happening in the garden.

That shirt, Mr. Neville,
is prominent enough in your drawing

Would it be possible, do you think,
to disguise its presence?

Madam, I try very hard
never to distort or to dissemble,

Would that always be
your method of working Mr. Neville?

It would.

Well, let me make a little speech.

In your drawing
of the north side of the house...

my father's cloak lies wrapped
around the feet of a figure of Bacchus.

In the drawing of the prospect over which
my husband turns an appreciative gaze...

you will have noticed that
there is unclaimed a pair of riding boots.

In the drawing of the park
from the east side...

it is possible to see
leaning against my father's wardroom...

a ladder usually put to use
for the collecting of apples.

And in the drawing of the laundry...

there is a jacket of my father's
slit across the chest.

Do you not think that before long you might find
the body that inhabited all those clothes?

I am thinking very hard, madam,
about the drawing you've left out.

And you, madam, were in that drawing.

- Are you sure, Mr. Neville?
- Well, the sound of you was in the drawing.

You were playing the spinet.

I thought, Mr. Neville,
that we had discussed...

the pictorial equivalents
of noise without conclusion.

Perhaps it was not me playing the spinet.
Have you thought of that?

- Then who, madam, was it?
- You see, Mr. Neville...

you are already beginning
to play the game rather skillfully.

Four garments and a ladder
do not lead us to a corpse.

Mr. Neville, I said nothing about a corpse.

Madam, you are ingenious.

It is as if you had planned it.

Your father is in Southampton.
He would not miss his clothes or notice the ladder.

Is my father in Southampton, Mr. Neville?

My mother told you that.

And you must realize
that she is a lady of few words...

and not incapable
of a few stratagems.

Have you not thought how hard
she persuaded you to be her draughtsman-

to draw her husband's house
while her husband was away?

Her explanation for that
can be supported.

Perhaps, Mr. Neville,
you have taken a great deal on trust.

I look forward, Mrs. Talmann, to the eventual
purpose and outcome of this ingenuity.

My last six drawings
will be redolent of the mystery.

I will proceed step-by-step
to the heart of the matter.

Perhaps to the heart
of my father, Mr. Neville.

Lying crimson on a piece of green grass?

What a pity, Mr. Neville,
that your drawings are in black-and-white.

You rush ahead, Mrs. Talmann.

The items are innocent.

Taken one by one,
they could so be construed.

Taken together, you could be regarded
as a witness to misadventure.

Misadventure, madam?

What misadventure?
There is no misadventure.

More than a witness, Mr. Neville-

an accessory to misadventure.

Madam, you are fanciful.

Mr. Neville...

I have grown to believe
that a really intelligent man...

makes an indifferent painter...

for painting requires a certain blindness...

a partial refusal to be aware
of all the options.

An intelligent man will know more about
what he is drawing than he will see.

And in the space between
knowing and seeing...

he will become constrained...

unable to pursue an idea strongly...

fearing that the discerning...

those who he is eager to please,
will find him wanting...

if he does not put in
not only what he knows...

but what they know as well.

You, Mr. Neville,
if you are an intelligent man...

and thus an indifferent painter...

will perceive that a construction such as
I have suggested could well be placed...

on the evidence
contained in your drawing.

If you are, as I have heard tell,
a talented draughtsman...

then I could imagine
that you could suppose...

that the objects I have drawn
your attention to form no plan...

stratagem or indictment.

Indictment, madam?

You are ingenious.

I-I am allowed to be neither of the two things
that I wish to be at the same time.

I propose...

since I am in a position
to throw a connecting plot...

over the inconsequential items
in your drawing...

an interpretative plot
that I could explain to others...

to account for my father's disappearance.

And there is no word now
of my father having arrived in Southampton.

I propose that we could come to...

some arrangement...

that might protect you and humor me.

I suggest that we come
to a similar arrangement...

as you have struck with my mother.

I would like you now
to accompany me to the library...

where I know that Mr. Noyes
is waiting for us.

And for each remaining drawing, to agree-

And for each remaining drawing, to agree-

to meet Mrs. Talmann in private-

to agree to meet Mrs. Talmann in private-

and to comply with her requests...

concerning her pleasure with me.

And to comply with her requests
concerning her pleasure with me.

Drawing number seven.
From 7:00 in the morning until 9:00...

the whole of the front prospect
of the house will be kept clean,

of members of the household,
household servants...

horses and carriages,

Drawing number eight.
From 9:00 in the morning until 11:00...

The gardens in front of
the bathhouse building will be kept clean

No coals will be burnt to cause smoke
to issue from the bathhouse chimneys.

From 11:00 in the morning until 1:00...

The yew tree walk in the center
of the lower garden...

will be kept completely clear
of all members of Mr. Herbert's family...

Members of this household staff
and animals.

It is time, Mr. Neville.

From 2:00 in the afternoon until 4300...

the back of the house
and the sheep pasture on the eastern side...

will be kept free of all members
of the household and farm servants.

The reason I suggested you come here...

is because I have borrowed
this painting from the house.

Madam, would you stand?

Are you not intrigued by it?

I confess I have paid it little attention.

Your husband surprises me
with his eccentric and eclectic taste.

While most of his peers are content
to collect portraits...

mostly of an edifying family connection...

Mr. Herbert seems to collect anything.

Perhaps he has an eye for optical theory...

or the plight of lovers...

or the passing of time.,

What do you think?

Perhaps, madam, he has-
and I would stand by him in this-

an interest in the pictorial conceit.

Can you see why your husband
had reason to buy it?

It is of a garden.
That is probably reason enough.

True, true. But what of the events
that are happening within it, hmm?

Shall we peruse it together?

Do you see, madam, a narrative
in these apparently unrelated episodes?

There is drama, is there not,
in this overpopulated garden.

What intrigue is here?

Do you think the characters
have something to tell us?

Would you know, madam,
if your daughter...

had any particular interest
in this painting?

Madam, could you put a season to it?

Madam 9 Do you have an opinion?

What infidelities are portrayed here?

Do you think...
that murder is being prepared?

Did you hear
that a horse had been found at Strides?

Which is about three miles
from here on the road that...

if followed long enough,
could lead you to Southampton.

I will stay dressed, Mr. Neville.
You will not.

Mr. Clarke says the horse
has been badly treated.

It could be said
that all roads can lead to Southampton...

if the traveler on horse
is ingenious enough.

I've heard of a horse
that found his way to Dover...

and boarded a ship taking hay to Calais.

The French, madam,
do not treat horses kindly.

They eat them.

Was your horse partly eaten, madam?

May I leave my hat on?

Your chair looks
insignificant out there, Mr. Neville.

What significant assumption
are we to make, madam...

of a wounded horse
belonging to your father...

found on the road to Southampton?

The first assumption is that the horse
has no business being there without my father.

And why is it wounded?
And what does that imply for my father?

And the second assumption
will no doubt implicate me...

since a saddleless horse has now
found its way into this morning's drawing.

Mrs. Talmann...

why don't you now leave the window
and come to the basin?

Don't worry. Your position of superiority
will not be diminished.

I will still have to look up to you.

Since I have taken valuable time
to fill this basin with a little water...

why not share it with me?

You have a curious mole Mrs. Herbert...

and it is ideally placed.

Does your gardener catch moles,
Mrs. Herbert?

No. He says they are
to be encouraged for good luck...

and the destruction of one's enemies,

They trip up horses, Mrs. Herbert.

You will not persuade Mr. Porringer
to persecute them,

A curious man and ideally placed.

Ideally placed for what?

Why, for persuading a fine white horse
from Southampton to go lame in the leg.

You have nothing to fear
from Mr. Porringer, Mr. Neville.

He... watches you
for his own amusement.

As I do you, madam.

- You seem nonetheless to be curiously keen
to protect your gardener.

It is not you, madam,
but his breeches that are his best defense.

A man in red breeches could scarcely be
considered an inconspicuous conspirator, madam...

unlike that other fool who behaves
like a statue when you least expect.

Away from the house,
Mr. Neville, I-

I feel I grow smaller in significance.

Madam,what signifies
does not grow smaller for me.

Your significance, Mr. Neville,
is attributable...

to both innocence and arrogance
in equal parts.

Ah, you can handle both with impunity,
Mrs. Talmann.

But you will find
that they are not symmetrical.

You will find that one
weighs heavier than the other.

Which do you think is the heavier,
Mrs. Talmann?

Your innocence, Mr. Neville,
is always sinister.

So I will say that
the right one is the heaviest.

Madam, your dexterity is admirable.

You spend too much time
with Mr. Neville.

- How is that?
- The man is a pariah.

He eats like a vagrant
and dresses like a barber.

What compliments. I think he would be amused.

As for his servant,
he looks like a fleece with a foot disease.

Do you not think
Mr. Neville is knowledgeable?

About what?

About what, madam?

Madam, I could take your silence
as provocation.

Why, sir, should I wish to provoke you?

To excite me to think that you might
wish to compliment Mr. Neville...

with more than praise
for his knowledgeability.

The complexity of your speech
does you credit, Louis...

but it far exceeds the complexity
of any relationship...

I might have with Mr. Neville,
which is indeed very simple.

He is a paid servant of my mother's,
bound by a contract. That is all.

I'm encouraged by my mother
to see him honor it.

Is his pleasure in your encouragement
so necessary?

Although Mr. Neville has qualities,
he is neither as intelligent...

nor, for that matter,
as talented as he thinks.

Both characteristics you have observed
from the start, Louis...

though I admit more by prejudice
than by observation.

I understand that you will
be leaving us tonight, Mr. Neville.

With Mrs. Herbert's permission, I will be
leaving after the arrival of Mr. Herbert...

after he has passed an opinion
on the drawings of his house.

If my servant has obtained a vehicle,
I will be leaving in the morning.

And of course, Mr. Neville, the sooner the better-
as you no doubt expected me to say.

You, sir, have acquainted me with your opinion
on drawing, on horticulture...

the Roman Church, childbearing...

the place of women in English life...

the history and politics of Lübeck
and the training of dogs.

Sol am in a fair position to anticipate
your opinion as to my departure.

And is Radstock to greet you
with such devoted hospitality?

Mr. Talmann, sir, I have been treated...

with as great hospitality as I could wish for
in Mrs. Herbert's house.

Your drawings are full of
the most unexpected observation, Mr. Neville...

and looking at them is akin to pursuing
a complicated allegory.

- Are you sure this ladder was there?
- Indisputably.

- And what is this? It looks like a-
- Whatever it is, it was there.

- Mrs. Talmann will confirm it.
- How is that?

How will my wife confirm it?

Mr. Neville is probably
too encompassing in his statement.

I can, however,
confirm the sighting of a ladder

It is propped against
my father's withdrawing room.

It is indeed, madam.
You have an exact knowledge.

As exact a knowledge as though, madam...

you had placed it there yourself,
would you say?

Mr. Neville, if ever I had such a mind to...

I would have found it impossible
to have lifted it.

- It would have taken... two men.
- Halt!

Away!

What do you want, Mr. Clarke?

Can you come with me, sir?
It's important.

Madam, it is most important
that I speak with you.

- I cannot now, Thomas.
- I'm in a position to insist.

Thomas, after what has happened,
I refuse to speak to you just now.

You must take care of affairs yourself, or,
in the last resort, you must ask Mr. Talmann.

Telling Mr. Talmann what is on my mind
will not help you.

What do you mean?

I mean, madam, that I am sure I'm shortly
to be accused of the murder of your husband...

and I am determined
to confront that eventuality well protected.

And who will accuse you?

Firstly, I think, will be your son-in-law...

abetted and witnessed
probably by his servants.

- How can that be?
- I need your assistance.

To what end...

if my son-in-law believes that you're guilty
of the murder of Mr. Herbert?

Leave me.

- Maria!
- Calling your servants is not going to help.

What do you mean? Maria!

- I mean the draughtsman's contract, madam.
- What of it?

Maria, call Mr. Talmann.

I mean your contractual obligations
to Mr. Neville.

What of them?

Madam, you are disingenuous
beyond words.

Maria, don't bother to call Mr. Talmann.
Fetch me instead a-

Fetch me nothing.
I'm not thirsty just at present.

Now, Mr. Noyes, what are you inferring?

I am to be unjustly and unscrupulously accused
of the murder of your husband.

On what grounds?

That I was the most likely person
to have done it.

That I was the only person,
with the exception of your servants...

to know of Mr. Herbert's return on Friday.

That I am culpable because of my known
feelings towards your husband.

That is ridiculous. There was-

And, madam, I am the only person in the group
of people you are about to mention...

who was not at home awaiting
the arrival of Mr. Herbert.

And, further, madam,
because of my known feelings towards you.

- Is all that sufficient reason?
- There is more.

Mr. Herbert's study
is mysteriously littered with papers...

and my gloves are there.

Now against this conspiracy,

I need your protection and more.

If you're guilty Thomas, you shall have neither

With Mr. Neville's contract, madam,
I shall have them both.

For your protection
and for 700 guineas...

I will trade you the contract
of your infidelities.

I have no money.
700 is a calculated sum.

I will trade you the contract
for the drawings.

You have I 2 drawings,
and Mr. Neville has a reputation.

What, for 12 drawings executed privately?

Consider, madam. The drawings could be
construed as an embarrassment to you...

and the original purpose and significance
of the drawings...

as a gift to your husband is absolved.

Those drawings, Mr. Noyes,
have cost me too much already.

They may cost you
a great deal more.

They may cost you possibly everything.

An adulteress with a dead husband
is no reputation to relish.

- And Mr. Neville?
- What of Mr. Neville? He's gone to Radcot.

- What part has he in this stratagem?
- He is not a part of my stratagem.

He could be party to a future arrangement
with the same intent.

You paid him a fee, madam...

and you offered him full board
on your property during the commission.

To the prying eye,
that is as much as he is usually worth.

With the contract in your hand
and destroyed...

why should the world think
you've offered him more?

Where is that contract now?

I have it here, madam.
Where are the drawings?

What would be said
if I no longer had the drawings?

That you destroyed them...

for, without your husband,
they were valueless to you.

What would happen
if it were known that they were for sale?

Your stratagem is weak.

That you sold them in order to afford
a memorial to your husband...

or, alternatively, that you sold them in order
to rid the house of something...

which pains you
each time you look at them.

You once asked me, Mrs. Pierpoint, if I could
supply you with a ribald piece of gossip.

And I remember your friendly gesture
at the time.

Ah, madam...

you Romans know how to be charitable.

I can supply you
with a little more than gossip.

I'm in a position to invite you
to help me...

elaborate and decorate such an item-
an entertaining item.

We need not work too hard,
for the rump of the matter has been well laid.

And what real benefit do you think
I might gain from this exercise?

Amusement and a certain delight
in a symmetrical stratagem...

and the satisfaction that our betters
might be seriously discomforted.

And who knows? Perhaps two parterres
and a grove of orange trees...

if Mrs. Herbert is generous.

And why Mrs. Herbert?

Because I think you will find
she is mistress of strategy.

And if you do not benefit from her directly,
I think that, by and by...

if you wait a few years,
then you will achieve them from me...

as a token of my esteem.

From the same source?

Madam, I think you have understood me.

A monument would need a designer.

Would a certain pecuniary draughtsman
be eager to sign another contract?

As far as I am aware, sir,
the idea is Mrs. Herbert's...

though the expenses might be laid
at Mr. Neville's door.

An about-face.

It is his drawings that are to be sold,
not more of his talent.

By Mr. Neville's growing reputation,
12 drawings could be profitably sold...

to furnish a more solid
and enduring monument.

It is said that Mr. Neville
is to be invited to the Hague.

Aha. If I had the wherewithal...

I would advance Mrs. Herbert
100 guineas straightaway-

for capital audacity,
for bravura in the face of grief.

Mr. Herbert is no especial excuse
for such generosity...

but how publicly directed
is the gesture?

- How could posterity doubt her affection?
-just so.

I shall offer 300 guineas-
not my own money, you understand.

My father-in-laws.
He can afford it.

He collects-
has no perspicacity, no knowledge.

I shall tell him that they are Italian.

- Guido Reni, uh, Modesta.

He shall hang them
in a dark room somewhere...

and they shall never be seen again.

That is a great pity,
for they are full of illuminating details.

Mr. Neville moves forward
in Mrs. Herbert's susceptibilities...

like a man pressing a lifework
by slow stages.

Would there perhaps be an idea
in Mr. Neville's imagination...

for a certain contract
to cap them all?

On horseback- a dashing Saint George,
looking like a jacobite with, um-

With a palette for a shield
and a quiver full of brushes...

and a pen held crosswise in his teeth.

With ink-stained fingers.

What is in his fingers?

Unmentionable.

- Another pen?
- It's like a pen.

- Is it a pen?
-A little pen.

The pen is mightier than the sword.

We will forward 400 guineas
to this scabrous monument to a pen.

And our receipt will be Mr. Neville's drawing
in the bathhouse.

- The one with the little dog.
- Mmm.Wagging its tail.

Mrs. Herbert does well to sell them.
How much will they bring?

They are worth
what those who buy them wish to pay.

- Mr. Seymour has tentatively offered 400 guineas.
- Huh!

I am inclined to think that he makes
his offer generous to Mrs. Herbert...

in order to interest her in a larger and a-
a grander sale.

- What other sale?
- Why, of course, of the house.

Well, that was very forward of him.

I tested his ambition...

by suggesting that he might buy a set
of distinguished drawings of it.

Either way is a useful way
to help Mrs. Herbert to a-

a more profitable bargain and thereby
to help her demonstrate her loss...

in the knowledge that a larger sum...

would make for a larger monument
for her husband.

Mr. Herbert, one way or another,
stands to benefit by Mr. Neville's industry...

as do we all, sir.

I fail to see, for a start, my benefit
or, for that matter, yours.

Mr. Talmann, you are disingenuous.

You, sir, as, by your leave,
your future son's future guardian...

stand in an enviable position.

And consider the neatness of it, sir.

The estate would have an endurable memorial
which is part of the landscape...

instead of 12 perishable items
which are mere representations of it.

I fail to see why Mr. Seymour's presumption
should gain him a part of my son's inheritance.

Maybe there again
Mr. Seymour will be doing you a favor, sir.

What do you mean?

By taking away the possibility
of your son ever seeing them-

when you have one, as I'm sure you will.

Why should he not see them?

Because, sir, he might perceive
the allegorical evidence in them...

which you might, sir,
be stubborn enough to deny.

Mr. Neville had no use for allegory...

and I am unlikely to miss
what my son would appreciate.

An allegorical meaning, sir,
that might involve his mother.

What?
My wife? How is that?

It is fancifully imputed, sir...

that Mr. Neville saw you
as a deceived husband.

How was I deceived?

I've been convinced, Sarah,
that you have been deceiving me!

- What is the matter with your voice?
- Damn my voice!

If you did, it would scare me less.

What's the matter with your face?
Your face, Louis, is very red.

No redder than your backside, madam,
when Mr. Neville had finished with it!

When your speech is as coarse as your face, Louis...

you sound as impotent by day
as you perform by night.

Night and day, madam,
your behavior has been coarse...

and is now down
in corresponding black-and-white...

for all the world to peer at...

whether the sun shines
or the wind blows hot or cold.

Your speech, Louis,
is becoming meteorological.

You must explain your conceit.

It is no conceit, madam,
but Mr. Neville's drawings.

I was sure you believed Mr. Neville
incapable of complicated meaning.

What has he done now?

It is mostly what he has undone.
It seems to be your person.

I have no control
over Mr. Neville's drawings.

He draws what he pleases.

He is not paid to draw for his own pleasure
nor, madam, for yours.

- What makes you think he has done that?
- Probably the way it looks.

- How does it look?
- The way the world sees it.

The world? There cannot be that many people
who have seen these drawings.

Who are these people
that represent the world?

- Seymour, Noyes, the Poulencs.
- Ah! And what do they see?

Enough, madam, to delight them,
to exercise their tongues...

to discuss patrimony.

Or the lack of it.

They see then what they have long
been searching for, do you think?

And that means?

Opportunity to upbraid you
for not producing an heir.

Woman, it takes two.

It does indeed, sir.

You amaze me.

- And what has that to do with Mr. Neville?
- I could ask you that, madam.

- You did not. You asked Mr. Noyes.
- It was he who pointed it out to me.

With his long nose,
he could point you in anyway he wishes.

Madam, you will look at those drawings
and you will explain to me...

why a pleaching ladder is conveniently
placed under your window...

and why your revolting little clog
is outside the bathhouse...

and why your walking clothes
casually decorate the bushes of the yew walk.

Your inventory, Louis, is unlimited-
like your long, clean, white breeches.

But there is nothing of substance
in either of them.

Let me ask you.

Perhaps you can explain what your boots
were doing in the sheep field.

They were not my boots.

And why was your undershirt
idling on a hedge near the statue of Hermes?

It was not my shirt.

Can you not see the drift
of this domestic inquisition?

You are answering me
as I could answer you.

You cannot deny it is your dog.

And whereas, with your final accusation...

you pursue the ambiguity
of an abandoned sunshade...

you, sir, are complete on paper...

in a borrowed hat
and a borrowed coat...

and a borrowed shadow,
I shouldn't wonder.

Posing, sir, with your knees tucked in
and your arse tucked out...

and a face like a Dutch fig...

and a supercilious Protestant whistle,
I shouldn't wonder...

on your supercilious, smug lips.

And, Louis, you have always said
that Mr. Neville has no imagination.

He draws what he sees.

Whose patrimony were you aping then-
my father's?

And the world knows that he is dead...

and is not certain who killed him.

The world
might peer at those drawings...

and ask what conspiracy of inheritance
did Mr. Neville have for you.

You are disreputable, madam...

and you side with a tenant-farmer's son
against your husband.

You have married the granddaughter
of an army victualler.

And there is nothing that I have said
that suggests I side with Mr. Neville.

But I hope you will agree
that he has been useful to us all.

What have you done with his drawings?

I've bought them for 600 guineas,
I plan to destroy them.

Oh, it would be a pity to destroy them.

You are concerned that posterity
will know of your duplicity!

Louis.

They contain evidence
of another kind...

a kind more valuable
than that seized upon...

by those titillated by a scandal
that smears your honor-

evidence that Mr. Neville may be cognizant
to the death of my father.

Good morning madam,

Mr. Neville.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

Though the summer suddenly seems past
and the weather less than good.

What, Mr. Neville, has brought you
back to Anstey so soon?

I thought our humble estate
had seen the last of you.

I am staying, madam, at Radstock
with the Duke of Lauderdale...

and have come at the invitation
of Mr. Seymour...

to find that curiously he is out
and most of his house is shut up.

Mr. Seymour, I understand,
is in Southampton with my husband.

The funeral was three days ago,
and they are discussing property.

It would seem then
that my visit is poorly timed.

Madam, may I ask
after the health of your mother?

Although my mother was understandably
disturbed by my father's death...

she is now, in the knowledge
that her affection for my father...

can never be reciprocated, at ease.

And what of yourself, madam?

I am very well, Mr. Neville,
and we are thriving.

Mr. van Hoyten is to consider for us...

a new management of the grounds
in an entirely fresh approach.

He has come at our request to...

soften the geometry
that my father found to his taste...

and to introduce a new ease
and complexion into the garden.

Mr. van Hoyten has worked in the Hague...

and he has presented Mr. Talmann
with some novel introductions...

which we will commence next spring.

He is a draughtsman too.

Mr. Neville has come, Mother,
as we both believed he might...

and he has brought with him
a rare gift from Radstock-

three pomegranates
from Lauderdale's gardener...

reared in English soil
under an English sun.

But with the help, madam,
of 100 panes of glass...

and half a year's supply
of artificial heat.

Thank you, Mr. Neville.

We must see
what we can do for you in return.

I was about
to take Mr. van Hoyten to the river.

He has plans to make a dam
and flood the lower field.

I will no doubt see you later, Mr. Neville.

Flooded fields, madam?

Do you intend to join Anstey to the sea?

We are to have an ornamental lake.

My son-in-law has ambitions
for his countrymen.

It is probably you, Mr. Neville,
that has opened his eyes...

To the possibilities of our landscape.

Why is this Dutchman wagging his arms about?

Is he homesick for windmills?

Who knows?

He's a man with new ideas.
New ideas demand new methods perhaps.

How was Radstock?

Fine enough, madam...

but dull after the excitements
of Anstey.

Ah, and have you now come here
to renew those excitements?

Oh, madam,
that would be presumptuous.

It would indeed, sir.

All contracts have, after all,
been honored...

and the body has been buried.

Madam, that was blunt.

I remember, sir, that you were blunt
in your dealings with me.

I was glad to see Mrs. Talmann...

and, in all truth, put as much
a possibility as I could...

to see that a meeting
with yourself might occur.

I confess that I was curious
to see the house and gardens again...

to see what appearance they'd put on
after this week of changing weather.

But I admit, madam,
that it was out of curiosity to see you...

that was behind the reason for my wishing
to be invited to Mr. Seymour's house.

Curiosity does not sound
a very respectful reason to visit a lady...

even one you've had the pleasure of.

And is it really myself that is the center
of your interest and not my daughter?

- Yes, madam.
- Ah.

How's that?

My former contractual obligations, madam,
tied us together to my advantage.

And at your husband's death, it was again
I who gained and you who lost.

You're very confident of that, Mr. Neville.

And I must confess that, in losing,
you have excited my curiosity further.

How do you imagine my losses,
Mr. Neville?

Humiliations, madam-
each one exceeding the other.

Is losing a husband a humiliation,
Mr. Neville?

Madam,
in making my arrangements here...

I concluded with the possibility
of 13 sites...

one of which had to be rejected to comply
with the I 2 drawings as commissioned.

The site that was rejected was,
as you will recall, to the south of the house...

and included
the monument to the horse.

It is the site
where your husband's body was found.

It was that irony, Mr. Neville,
that was uppermost in inquiring minds...

at the discovery of Mr. Herbert's body.

The 13th site, madam,
was rejected for no clear reason.

It contained no view of the house.

Then that was true
of several other of the drawings.

Possibly it was the least characteristic
of the garden's viewpoints...

and was most powerful
at the least advantageous times of clay.

And that is why, madam,
with your permission...

I would like, if I may...

to attempt to accomplish
that drawing this afternoon.

That is, if you have no objection.

Mr. Neville, your approach
is full of hesitant pleasantries.

Madam, that is because
I am still unable...

to fully judge your present feelings
as to past events.

Mr. Neville, suffice it to say
that the object of my life has changed.

I am a widow,
whereas I was a wife.

It could be construed
that I was a widow whilst being a wife.

I have only exchanged a false position
that made me unhappy...

for a true position that has left me
without any emotion.

Mr. Neville, I propose to eat.

And, uh, I propose
that you should eat with me.

And when we are ready, I will show-
along with my gardener, Mr. Porringer-

what we at Anstey
are capable of cultivating.

It will be by way of
returning your gift in kind.

And who knows?
It may be that we could revive...

one more time...

a liaison, outside of a contract...

to our mutual satisfaction.

And then you must accomplish your 13th drawing.
ls all that acceptable to you?

Madam, it is as if you'd planned it.

I'm surprised, delighted.

Madam, I am overwhelmed.

Mr. Neville, I will take all three states
of your satisfaction into consideration.

I have, quite legitimately,
a freedom to exploit...

and I might as well
exploit it with you...

considering our past experience.

A pomegranate, Mr. Neville-

gift of Hades to Persephone.

Madam, my scholarship is not profound.

Unusual of you, Mr. Neville, to profess
to an ignorance of a subject...

which, before, you would be anxious
to have us believe...

was an essential prerequisite
to an artist's vocabulary.

Maybe, madam, I am hesitating
to acknowledge an unintended allusion.

By eating the fruit of the pomegranate,
Mr. Neville...

Pluto kept Persephone
in the underworld.

Oh, a symbolic fruit, Mrs. Herbert.

And you've brought me three.

That was all, madam,
that Mr. Clancy would spare me.

Maybe Mr. Clancy
is a contriver of allusions.

How- How is that, Mrs. Herbert?
Are you acquainted with the man?

Having been tricked into eating the fruit
of the pomegranate, Mr. Neville...

Persephone was forced to spend
a period of each year underground...

during which time,
as even Mr. Porringer will tell you...

Persephone's mother- the goddess of fields,
of gardens and of orchards-

was distraught, heartbroken.

She sulks, and she refuses-
adamantly refuses-

to bless the world with fruitfulness.

Now...

my Mr. Porringer and your Mr. Clancy...

try hard to defeat
the influence of the pomegranate...

by building places like these,
don't you think?

And having built them and stocked them
and patiently tended them...

what do they grow?

Why, the pomegranate.

And we are turned full circle again.

Certainly a cautionary tale
for gardeners, madam.

And for mothers with daughters,
Mr. Neville.

But, who knows, madam?
Pomegranates grown in England...

might not have such unhappy
allegorical significance.

Plants from the hothouse,
according to Mr. Porringer...

are seldom fertile.

Fertile enough, Mrs. Talmann,
to engender felicitous allusions...

if not their own offspring.

And of course, there are more.

More of what, madam?

Mr. Neville, we well know your delight
in the visual conceit.

The juice of the pomegranate...

may be taken for...

blood...

and in particular
the blood of the newborn...

and of murder.

Then thanks
to your botanical scholarship...

you must find it cruelly apt
that I was persuaded to bring such fruit.

Oh, Mr. Neville, I suspect
that you were innocent of the insight...

as you have been innocent of much else.

Innocent, madam?

By impute, I was convinced
you thought me guilty-

certainly of opportunism,
probably of murder.

What I do think you guilty of
I do not at all reproach you for.

In our need of an heir...

you may very likely
have served us well.

Madam?

We had a contract, did we not?

You do not think I would have signed
so much for pleasure alone?

Madam, that was ingenious.

Since when has adultery been ingenious?

Mr. Neville, you are ridiculous.

And why should you
have murdered Mr. Herbert?

- For what reason?
- Mr. Talmann believes I had reason enough.

Yes. Mr. Talmann is in Southampton...

still trying to find or invent
some responsibility for you in the matter

He will not forgive
your indiscretion with Sarah...

but he will not disown his wife
for then, you see, he would lose Anstey.

I am sure that Mr. Talmann
is not in Southampton...

for did I not see him
on the carriage drive here this afternoon?

Why I think not.

He is in Southampton with Mr. Seymour

I do not think
that Mr. Seymour can be in Southampton...

for he stopped my servant this morning
at Radstock to ask after me.

And on the understanding
that I had some hope of seeing you...

was, according to my servant,
more than pleased.

I am convinced
that we will see him this afternoon.

I confess I am surprised, Mr. Neville,
if that is the case.

I will inquire.

Sarah.

Ask Mr. Porringer
to get Mr. Neville a chair.

He intends to make a drawing for me
in the garden by that horse.

And, Sarah.

Ask Mr. Porringer to bring Mr. Neville
a pineapple, a small one.

They're sweeter.

You would care to try a pineapple,
would you not, Mr. Neville?

- Madam, I would be delighted.

Good evening, Mr. Neville.

Good evening, sir.

And why, Mr. Neville,
do we find you here so late?

Surely the light is now too poor
to see adequately.

That is true. I am finished.

Good.

Perhaps I could see it.

If we had light,
that might be possible.

I'm sure we can find some light.

But it is not finished Mr. Neville.

No, Mr. Talmann, it is not.

You may successfully
hide your face in the dark...

but in England, at least, it is not easy for you,
surely, sir, to hide your accent.

I did not think to hide my identity
for long, Mr. Neville...

which even in the eyes of the English
is no especial crime...

compared with the identity
you care to assume with such ease.

And what identity
might that be, Mr. Talmann?

The identity of a man of some little talent,
some dubious honor...

a proper dealer in contracts-

the identity of a man with an eye
to the improper pursuit of dishonor to others.

You talk, Mr. Talmann,
like one who has learnt abroad...

an archaic way of speaking
that became unfashionable in England...

when my grandfather
was a young man.

My speech is in no way dependable
on your view of fashion, Mr. Neville.

We all know that in the field
of deeds and of talent...

you in your field are an innovator.

That must be some sort of flattery,
Mr. Talmann.

Have your companions
also come to flatter?

We have come merely
as curious observers, Mr. Neville...

to wonder why,
after so much has happened...

you return to continue to fix
Mr. Herbert's property on paper...

and chose to draw this particular site.

I might be inclined
to answer those questions, Mr. Seymour...

if I did not feel
that the truthful answers I would give...

would in no way
be of interest to you.

It is our belief, Mr. Neville,
that in returning here...

you are seeking a codicil
to your original contract...

a codicil of a more permanent nature
than the last one-

a lasting contract with a widow.

You speak, of course, Mr. Talmann,
like a disinherited man...

uninterested in painting
or draftsmanship-

uninterested even in the prospect
of the estate you covet from this position.

An ideal site for a memorial perhaps.

Do you think Mr. Herbert would have
appreciated the prospect of his estate?

Oh. As a landowner yourself, Mr. Seymour,
I leave you to judge.

For a man of property,
it is a view that might be enviable.

Though I think you are wrong
to ascribe those enviable thoughts to me.

Perhaps, I would suggest, they should be
ascribed to my friend Mr. Noyes...

Who is I think standing beside me.

A custodian of contracts...

a man who was given custody
of private agreements in black-and-white.

And how do you feel, Mr. Neville...

that Mr. Herbert felt
about these black-and-white contracts?

As his agent, his bailiff, his notary...

his one-time friend, the close- though not
close enough- confidante of his wife...

I would have thought you would be
the best person to answer that.

It is curious, gentlemen,
that you persist in asking me questions...

which you are the most suitably situated
to answer.

It has, of course, occurred to me
that you, Mr. Noyes...

might have
advanced Mr. Herbert the information...

that was so discretionably set down
in black-and-white.

Whether he could have appreciated
what it stood for is another matter.

He was blind to so much-
certainly blind to considerable unhappiness.

Your understanding
of Mrs. Herbert's unhappiness...

could in no possible way
be considered profound or relevant.

I had access to some considerable observation
of her state of mind.

And you will not forget, sir, that I was helped
in that respect by her daughter- your wife, sir-

and was persuaded- and was
persistently persuaded by both ladies...

to undertake the commission
in the first place.

And they persuaded you, sir...

with a view that you might reconcile
differences, sir, and not plunder them,

I am in no way responsible
for Mr. Herbert's death.

The affair is a mystery to me...

though I have strong suspicions,
Mr. Talmann, Mr. Seymour, Mr. Noyes...

and, if they were here, indeed
of Mrs. Herbert herself and Mrs. Talmann-

ladies who both, after all,
entered willingly into their contracts.

Is that why, Mr. Neville, you have just
abused Mrs. Herbert further?

Ah.

What a pity.

That was clever.

We now have a contract with you, Mr. Neville...

and under conditions of our choosing.

The contract concerning
our present pleasure, Mr. Neville...

has three conditions.

It will be best served, sir,
when you have removed your finery.

Take off your hat, sir.

My hat, gentlemen...

has no contractual obligations
with anyone.

The contract's first condition, Mr. Neville-

and there is no need to write it down
for you will never see it-

is to cancel your eyes.

Since we have now
deprived you of your access to a living...

the shirt on your back
will be of no value to you.

It may well dress a scarecrow
to frighten the crows.

Or be scattered about an estate...

as ambiguous evidence
of an obscure allegory.

And the third condition of your contract,
concomitant to the other two-

- And legally binding...
- And efficiently undertaken...

- for what is a man without property-
- and foresight-