All language subtitles for The Dead [1987] [WebRip].en

Here we are,

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

- I should be up in a second,

- Go on, I'm right behind you.

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

Thank you, Lily,

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

Miss Furlong, Miss
O'Callaghan and Miss Higgins,

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

No, ma'm.

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

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

And you, Miss Furlong,

And you, Miss Higgins.

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

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

Yes, of course, you missed your lesson.

- Did you enjoy England?
- It was lovely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have to lay the table, miss.

Well, do your best.

- Good evening!
- Good evening.

- Miss Kate, Miss Julia Morkan,

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

who were so good to escort us here tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Dancing, please!
- To warm us up!

That'd be sure enough after your cold ride.

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

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

Just Mr. Browne?

Isn't one of me enough for you?

More then enough, Dan!

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

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

He's quite impossible.

Whatever will we do?

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

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

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

Whatever it is, it smells nice.

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

How thoughtful of you.

Well, frankincense and myrrh
from London West End.

- Miss Julia.
- O, how lovely!

Thank you, Dan.

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

Why, what's the matter?

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

I'm worried about Freddy.

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

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

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

He might have succumbed.

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

Of course you can.

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

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

Good-night, Mrs. Conroy.

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

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

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

Is Gabriel with you?

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

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

Is it snowing again, Mr. Conroy?

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

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

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

Good Lord, seems like only yesterday,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are you not anxious about
the children, Gretta?

O, for one night... Besides,

Bessie will look after them.

To be sure,

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

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

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

O, here he is,
lurking in the corridor!

Like a little boy sent out of class.

What's up with you at all, Gabriel?

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

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

You will be fine, Gabriel, just fine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goloshes! That's the latest.

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

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

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

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

Goodness gracious, Julia,

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

You wear them over your . . . boots,

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

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

O, on the continent...

Where's Julia going?

Julia!

Here's Freddy, Kate!

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

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

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

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

It's such a relief that Gabriel is here.

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

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

O, the celebrated tenor.

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

Fine, fine, fine, fine.

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

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

Disheveled.

Now you'll pass muster.

If you'll excuse me..

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

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

I understand, Freddy.

The same was true of
my father before me,

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

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

He's not so bad, is he?

O no, no, barely noticeable.

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

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

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

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

I thought I recognized it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, Mrs. Malins,

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

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

My boy Freddy, is he here?

Yes.

How is he?

Is he all right?

He's nearly all right.

Is that bad?

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

Two gentlemen and three ladies!

Here's Mr. Duffy and Mr. Egan.

Mr. Egan, will you take Miss Power?

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

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

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

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

I suppose you enjoy living in Glasgow now?

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

at the edge of the city,

just where the tram starts.

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

How old are they now?

Little Bert's just raising 7,

Karen is 5,

Children are perfect of that age, as you know,

Indeed.

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

Overlooking the garden.

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

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

And the young one?

No, what they have been up to now?

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

And she brought with her
this great big basket,

And she left it under a kitchen table.

When Gallagher came in by himself,

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

- I have no idea.
- See,

The sow has only
farrowed the week before,

And it was the runt of the litter.

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

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

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

For the fortnight, at the
hotel in the highlands.

Where he can go fishing.

O, he's a great fisher all together,

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

He caught a fish!

O, the most beautiful
big fish you ever saw!

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

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

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

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

- Freddy.
- What?

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

Into the valley of Death,
Rode the six hundred.

Hello mother,

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

Sorry, I was detained.

What detained you?

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

Where was it, in Mulligan's pub?

Attention everybody!

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

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

to give us a small demonstration
of her musical skills.

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

Yes, Haddington Road.

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

Bravo!

Now, let us have a recitation.

Mr. Grace, would you beguile us again?

Forgive me, I have to perform.

Thank you, thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen,

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

But, I came across something recently,

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

It is called "Broken Vows".

It is late last night,

the dog was speaking of you;

the snipe was speaking
of you in her deep marsh.

It is you are the lonely
bird through the woods;

and that you may
be without a mate

until you find me.

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

that you would be before me

where the sheep are flocked;

I gave a whistle and
three hundred cries to you,

and I found nothing there

but a bleating lamb.

You promised me a thing
that is hard for you,

a ship of gold
under a silver mast;

twelve towns with a
market in all of them,

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

You promised me

a thing that is not possible,

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

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

and a suit of the
dearest silk in Ireland.

My mother told to me not
to be talking with you

to-day, or tomorrow,

or on the Sunday;

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

it was shutting the door

after the house was robbed.

You have taken the east from me;

you have taken the west from me;

you have taken what is before me

and what is behind me;

you have taken the moon,

you have taken the sun from me;

And,

and my fear is great

that you have taken God from me!

It's a translation from the Irish,

by Lady Gregory.

It's very strange,
but beautiful.

I've never heard anything like it.

Very mysterious.

Imagine being in love like that.

I thought it was beautiful.

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

Yes Lily, what it is?

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

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

Very good, Lily.

Now, back to the dancing!
Lancers!

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

I have a perfect partner for you.

Miss Ivors, I think you
know my nephew.

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

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

I'll be delighted.

A good canter would do him good.

I have a crow to pluck with you.

With me?

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

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

Now, aren't you
ashamed of yourself?

Why should I be
ashamed of myself?

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

I didn't think you
were a West Briton.

What do you mean - a West Briton?

Someone who looks to
England for our salvation,

Instead of depending
on ourselves alone.

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

We're going to stay
there a whole month.

It will be splendid
out in the Atlantic.

You ought to come.

Mr. Clancy is coming,

Mr. Kilkelly, Kathleen Kearney.

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

She's from that part of the world.

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

But you will come, wouldn't you?

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

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

France or Belgium or Germany, perhaps.

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

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

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

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

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

your own people,
your own country?

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

Why?

Of course, you've no answer.

West Briton!

Ladies and gentlemen,
we have gathered...

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

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

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

No row. Why? Did she say we had?

No, I noticed you carrying on..

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

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

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

You can go if you like.

Attention, ladies and gentlemen,

My sister, Miss Julia Morkan,
after much coaxing,

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

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

Arrayed for the Bridal

by Bellini.

Arrayed for the bridal,

in beauty behold her

A white wreath entwineth

a forehead more fair

I envy the zephyrs

that softly enfold her

And play with the locks

of her beautiful hair

Arrayed for the bridal,

in beauty behold her

A white wreath entwineth

a forehead more fair

I envy the zephyrs

that softly enfold her

And play with the locks

of her beautiful hair.

I was just telling my mother,

I've never heard you sing so well,

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

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

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

Upon my word and
honour that's the truth.

I've never heard your voice so...

so clear,

so fresh,

Never!

You turn my head,
all your compliments.

Miss Julia Morkan, my latest discovery!

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

Because all I can say is,

I never heard her sing half as well,

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

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

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

I often told Julia,

She was thrown away in that choir.

But she never would be said by me.

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

slaving away there night
and day, night and day.

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

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

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

I think it's very
honorable of the pope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And if I were in Julia's place,

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

And besides, Aunt Kate,

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

And when we are thirsty
we are also quarrelsome.

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

Will all the gentlemen
please bring a chair!

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

But, you can't go before supper!

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

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

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

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

I'm not going home,

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

A union one. At Liberty Hall.

James Connolly is speaking.

As you mean, the Republican meeting?

You are the comical girl, Molly.

You'll be the only woman there.

It won't be the first time.

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

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

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

Ready to carve flock
of geese if necessary!

Bless us, O Lord,
and these thy gifts

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

- Amen.
- Amen.

Miss Daly, what shall I send you?

Wing, or a slice of breast?

A small slice of breast, please.

Whose's this?

That's yours there.

O, thank you.

Miss Furlong,

What will you have?

Anything at all, Mr. Conroy.

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

Everything is absolutely delicious.

It's not too dry, is it?

It looks splendid, Miss Morkan.

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

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

You know that I have always
preferes goose to turkey.

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

The older we get, the
more flavour we like.

Where's the apple sauce?

I'm sorry, there isn't any.

No apple sauce?

I told you we should
have apple sauce.

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

And I hope I may never eat worse.

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

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

Time enough, time enough.

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

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

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

Come on, come on,
sit yourself down,

And proclaim yourself queen,

Sit down.

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

There we go now.

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

Certainly.

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

I hope we are sharing the same wish.

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

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

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

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

Che gelida manina

You hardly want to go on living.

It gave me goose
pimples all down my arms.

What's it?

Your tiny hand is frozen.

Funny, I'm boiling.

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

Freddy, you have it all wrong.

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

What song?

What are you talking about?

- Explain to him, will you?

How many of you were
there last night?

I was there five nights
ago, for the opening.

Most of us were.

Well, you can count
yourselves lucky.

I had a misfortune
to go last night.

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

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

The sort of a thing
a man dreams about.

And what happened?

How did he get on?

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

What then?

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

Rough is not the word, it was brutal!

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

With the sole exception of Verdi.

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

O very dubious, indeed.

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

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

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

Would that have happened in Ireland?

O, I suppose not.

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

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

No politics.

Keep these discussions
for your committee meetings.

Mr. D'Arcy?

What did you think of the other roles?

I must say, Madame
Deveraux has a lovely timbre,

Great homogeneity of
tone. How shall I put it?

She's an embrocation.

After all, she's our leading contralto.

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

I found her style of
production rather vulgar.

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

Because now,

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

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

- You don't say?
- I do!

I do.

Have you heard him?

Because now, I'd be curious

To hear your opinion of him.

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

all the good things.

Why can't he have a voice too?

Isn't because he's only a black?

Why do you insist on
calling me Teddy?

My name is Freddy,
as you well know!

Theodore Alfred Malins,

First thing's first, I say,

Theodore, Teddy,

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

Of course, it was
very fine, but

Seeing it again made me
think of poor Georgina Burns.

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

She died very young, didn't she?

When I was just little girl.

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

Very tragic, very tragic.

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

To the great days of bel canto,

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

Tietjens, Ilma De Murska,

Campanini, Ravelli,

Giuglini, Aramburo,
the great Trebelli,

Those were the days,

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

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

And then, I recall on one occasion,

A young Italian tenor
singing five encores

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

Introducing a high C every time.

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

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

The gallery boys in their enthusiasm,

would unyoke the horses
from her carriage,

and pull it themselves from
the theatre to her hotel.

O God, be with the days.

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

Dinorah, Lucrezia Borgia,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For me, there was only one tenor.

To please me, I mean.

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

Who was he, Miss Morkan?

His name was Parkinson.

I heard him when he was in his prime.

I think then he had the purest tenor voice,

ever put into a man's throat.

Strange, I never even heard of him.

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

Miss Morkan is right,

I certainly have heard of old Parkinson,

Though I never had a
pleasure of listening to him.

The pure, sweet, mellow English tenor.

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

May I congratulate the chef?

Aunt Julia made it all by herself.

Miss Morkan, it is a work of art.

I was afraid it wasn't
quite brown enough.

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

Could I have the celery, please?

Thank you.

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

Wait 'till after the pudding.

I need something to
deaden the taste.

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

A retreat, isn't it?

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

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

They are very hospitable monks.

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

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

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

and then come away
without paying a farthing?

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

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

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

What's more, they sleep in their coffins.

Why? Why?

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

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

But there must be some
sort of logic behind it.

You know the doctrine that,

in the eyes of the church,

we can do penance for others.

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

That by

gaining indulgencies,

remission of sins,

and therefore, the
monks are trying to...

compensate

for all the sins

committed by all of the sinners,

in the outside,

external world.

You mean... ?

They are trying to get
us all off the hook?

Well, on the last day,

Day of Judgment.

Including agnostics, atheists, heathens.. ?

As well as, as you so eloquently put it,

those of us of other persuasion?

I think so.

I'm all in favour of the idea,

I'd be idiot not to be,

like getting free insurance.

But,

wouldn't a comfortable spring bed

do them as well as a coffin?

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

The coffin is to remind
them of their last end.

Ladies and Gentlemen.

It is not the first time
that we have gathered around

this hospitable board,
as the recipients

or I had better say,

the victims -- of the hospitality

of certain good ladies.

Indeed, no tradition does
our country more honor

then it's overwhelming hospitality.

Some might consider it a failing,

and if so, it is a princely one.

Ladies and Gentlemen. We
are living in a skeptical,

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

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

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

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

courteous Irish hospitality,
is still alive among us.

Long may it continue!

Hear! Hear!

And yet,

in gatherings such as this,

sadder thoughts will
recur to our minds.

Thoughts of the past,
of youth, of changes,

of absent friends that
we miss here tonight.

But our work is among the living,

we must not brood our
stoop to gloomy moralizing.

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

which claim, and rightly,
our strenuous endeavors.

Here we are met,

momentarily away from the
bustle of our everyday routines,

in a spirit of good-fellowship,

in the true spirit of camaraderie.

And as the guests of --

what shall I call them?

the Three Graces of the
Dublin musical world.

What did Gabriel say?
What did he say?

He says we are the
Three Graces, Aunt Julia.

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

in ancient times,

to choose between them.

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

For when I view them in turn, whether it be

our chief hostess
herself, whose good heart,

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

or her sister,

who seems to be gifted
with perennial youth

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

or, last but not least,

when I consider our youngest hostess,

talented, cheerful,

hard-working and
the best of nieces.

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

I should award the prize.

Let us toast them
all three together.

Let us drink to their
health, wealth,

long life, happiness
and prosperity.

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

in their profession,

and the position of
honor and affection

which they hold in our hearts.

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

Which nobody can deny.

Unless he tells a lie,

Unless he tells a lie,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

For they are jolly fine fellows,

Which nobody can deny.

O, look! It stopped snowing.

Our beds are going to be icy tonight.

I would get married just to keep warm.

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

Aunt Julia, thank you
for the lovely evening.

My grandmother's old gardener,

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

How did he know?

The almanac,

and he said berries were
very red on the holly,

and that there were a lot of them.

That means a hard winter.

The birds also.

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

Are you an ornithologist as well?

An amateur.

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

And birds are the most
beautiful singers of all.

Just think of the willow
warbler, or the wren.

And in Italy, I
heard wonderful birds.

The nightingale, of course.

Is it like in Ode of Mr. Keats?

Not at all.

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

but I keep forgetting it.

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

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

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

First thing Monday morning.

Thank you, my boy, thank you.

Once again, good-night all!

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

It really was a treat.

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

Was I here last year?

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

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

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

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

During August, the midges in
the highlands are exasperating.

Freddy, will you bring a chair?

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

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

Excuse me, ladies!

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

- Good-night!

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

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

Fine, strong man.

Fine.

I wish the same for my Freddy.

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

I'm on my way!

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

Who would think there
would be such a difference.

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

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

I will, of course, Mrs. Malins.

He'll have every cab in Dublin out.

I think Freddy will
never get married now.

Time to go, Mr. Browne.

Mr. Brown, wake up!

Time to go.

I found one!
I've got a cab!

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

I'll just ask my mother.

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

- on the similar circumstances.

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

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

Put Browne in first,

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

27 Munster Road,
"Jordan's Barn".

Then head straight on for Rathmains,

- Excuse me, sir.
- What?

How would I find that place?

You don't know how to get to Rathmains?

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

Somewhere from the west of Ireland?

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

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

Oh, my back!

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

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

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

How are you, mother,
are you comfortable?

I am not!

Could you wedge a
pillow under my knee?

I'll get the pillow inside.

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

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

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

Ha, "Going twice around the park!"

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

O, it will do!

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

Do you know how to
get to Trinity College?

Trinity College...

I believe I do, sir.

Drive bang up against it's gate,

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

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

Come on!

You forgot your thingamajigs, Mr. Conroy.

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

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

Gretta!

Gretta!

If you'll be the lass of Aughrim,

As I am taking you mean to be,

Tell me the first token,

That passed between you and me.

O don't you remember,

That night on yon lean hill,

When we both met together,

Which I am sorry now to tell.

The rain falls on my heavy locks,

And the dew it wets my skin,

My babe lies cold within my arms,

But none will let me in.

My babe lies cold within my arms,

But none will let me in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh yes.

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

I see a white man this time.

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

Who's Johnny?

The late lamented Patrick
Morkan, my grandfather,

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

Your aunt said he
had a starch mill.

Well, starch or glue...

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

Walking round and round
in order to drive the mill.

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

with the quality to a
military review in the park.

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

And off he went.

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

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

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

He started to walk round
and round the statue.

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

He said:
"Johnny! Johnny!"

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

"Most extraordinary conduct!"

And he had to get out
and walk Johnny home.

Good-evening,

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

Fourteen.

This way.

- You look tired.
- I am a little.

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

- Poor Freddy Malins.
- What about him?

Poor fellow,

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

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

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

Do I know?

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

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

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

And who was the person, long ago?

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

Someone you were in love with?

It was a young boy I used to know,

named Michael Furey.

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

He was very delicate.

I can see him so plainly,

Such eyes as he had,

big dark eyes.

And an expression in them,

an expression!

O, so you are in love with him?

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

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

What for?

How do I know?
To see him, perhaps.

He's dead.

He died when he was only 17.

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

What was he?

He was in the gasworks.

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

I was great with him at that time.

What was it he died of so young?

Consumption, was it?

I think he died for me.

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

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

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

wouldn't be let out.

And his people in
Oughterard were written to.

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

I never knew rightly.

Poor fellow. He was very fond of me.

He was such a gentle boy.

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

The way they do in the country.

He was going to study
singing only for his health.

He had a very good voice,

poor Michael Furey.

Well, and then?

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

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

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

would be back in the summer,

and hoping he'd be better by then.

Then the night before I left,

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

I heard gravel thrown
up against the window.

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

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

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

Did you not tell him to go back?

I implored of him to go home at once,

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

But he said he did not want to live.

I can see his eyes as well, as well!

Did he go home?

Yes, he went home.

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

He was buried in Oughterard,

where his people came from.

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

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

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

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

What were you like, then?

To me, your face is still beautiful,

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

Why am I feeling this
riot of emotion?

What started it up?

A ride in the cab?

When not responding
when I kissed her hand?

My aunt's party?
My own foolish speech?

Wine, dancing, music?

Poor Aunt Julia...

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

Soon, she'll be a shade too,

with the shade of Patrick
Morkan and his horse.

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

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

for words of consolation.

And would find only
lame and useless ones.

Yes, yes.
That will happen very soon.

Yes, the newspapers are right:

Snow is general all over Ireland.

Falling on every part of
the dark central plain,

on the treeless hills,

softly upon the Bog of Allen,

and, farther westward,
softly falling

into the dark mutinous
Shannon waves.

One by one we are
all becoming shades.

Better pass boldly
into that other world,

in the full glory of some passion,

than fade and wither
dismally with age.

How long you locked away in your heart,

the image of your lover's eyes

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

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

but I know that such
a feeling must be love.

Think of all those who ever were,

back to the start of time.

And me, transient as they,

flickering out as well
into their grey world.

Like everything around me,
this solid world itself,

which they reared and lived in,

is dwindling and dissolving.

Snow is falling.

Falling in that lonely churchyard
where Michael Furey lays buried.

Falling faintly through the
universe, and faintly falling,

like the descent
of their last end,

upon all the living
and the dead.