Original subtitles

(Muffled crying)

Quick. Open the gate, Arthur.

(Horses trotting)

(Coughing)

Oh.

Well, at least the light is good.

-Can I go outside? -I'll take you later.

-Please? -No.

-I won't get lost. -Arthur.

Where are my skittles?

-We could not bring everything. -You brought your paints and brushes.

They're not toys, dearest.

Are we poor now?

(Gun firing)

(Arthur screaming)

Give me that child.

I wasn't harming the child, madam. He was caught up in the branches.

He might have hanged himself.

I beg your pardon, sir.

-I did not know you, I thought... -You thought what?

I'm indebted to you, Mr...?

Markham.

When are we going back?

Give him time.

He'll be happy enough.

(Church bell ringing)

MAN: Oh, Lord, let thy mercy lighten upon us as our trust is in thee.

Oh, Lord, in thee have I trusted thee. Let me never be confounded.

Here beginneth the second lesson of the Gospel according to St John,

Chapter 2, Verse 1 .

''And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee

''and the mother of Jesus was there.

''And both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage.

''And when they wanted wine, the mother of Jesus sayeth unto him,

'''They have no wine.'

''Jesus sayeth unto her,

'''Woman, what have I to do with thee?'''

(Woman, whispering) Be quiet.

'''Mine hour is not yet come.'

''When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine,

''and knew not whence it was,

''but the servants which drew the water knew...''

(Arthur giggling)

''...the governor of the feast called the bridegroom and sayeth unto him,

'''Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine...'''

Mrs. Graham, so glad that you were able to worship with us today.

Our congregation is quite a little family, you know.

Have you met my daughter Eliza?

-Mrs. Graham. -Miss Millward.

May we hope that you will honour us with a visit?

-Perhaps this afternoon? -Oh, no.

That would not be possible. Forgive me.

-Mrs. Graham, allow me to introduce Mrs. Wilson. -Mrs. Graham.

Mr Richard Wilson and Miss Jane Wilson.

(Quietly) It's the new tenant of Wildfell.

Oh, Mrs. Graham...

I'm Mrs. Markham from Brook Farm. We're having a small party on Friday.

-We were wondering... -ROSE: Oh, do say you'll come.

-Thank you, but I never go to parties. -Oh, but this will be quite a family concern.

-I'm sorry, I... -Mrs. Graham,

I do hope that Wildfell is not too uncomfortable for you.

Not at all.

It's a draughty old place. You must let me know if there's anything you need.

You're very kind.

Mr Lawrence, I've been trying to persuade Mrs. Graham to come to our party on Friday.

Perhaps you can encourage her.

Oh, I fear that goes beyond a landlord's prerogative.

Your hospitality is famous, Mrs. Markham. It can need no recommendation from me.

I'm sorry. It is my son.

I do not care to leave him alone.

But surely you have a servant.

Rachel is too busy to be running after a lively boy.

-Are you really such a mischievous fellow? -No, no.

But he is my only treasure, and I am his only friend.

-We don't like to be parted. -So I observe.

My dear! I call that doting.

He mustn't always be tied to his mama's apron strings.

He should learn to be ashamed of it.

Mrs. Markham, I trust my son will never be ashamed to love his mother.

Good day.

-Markham. -Lawrence.

Oh, Mrs. Graham!

You seem determined to be a stranger to us. I suppose you must find us all very dull.

-Not at all. -Let's not apologize.

There's nothing I love more than a mystery.

Excuse me.

Rose, tell Betty to fetch the ale for Reverend Millward.

But Mother, I'm busy.

-I'll go. -Oh, Fergus.

I daresay you hate cats, Mr Markham. Most gentlemen do.

Only because you ladies lavish so many caresses on them.

Naughty little darling.

Now, this is the thing. There is nothing like it, Mrs. Markham.

I always say a woman's first duty is to keep a good table for the gentlemen.

-Not to be a slave to it. -MRS. MARKHAM: Mind you...

I had as good a husband as ever lived,

and he always did justice to my dinners and hardly ever spoiled my cookery by delay.

And that is as much as any woman can expect of any man.

Mrs. Graham!

Well, come in, come in.

-No, thank you. I prefer water. -An abstainer?

Well, some for the boy.

-Warm him up. -Don't worry, Arthur. He will not make you drink it.

What, another abstainer? You're not a milksop, are you, boy?

[ Flashback ]

He detests the sight of wine and the smell of it makes him sick.

-He will grow to like it in time. -I think not.

I gave him some by way of medicine when he was ill.

(Eliza laughing)

-What a droll idea. -It is not meant to be.

This way I will have saved him from one degrading vice, at least.

-Vice, Mrs. Graham? -But he's a boy, my dear.

You don't want to spoil his spirit. You'll make a mere Miss Nancy of him.

True virtue, my dear lady, consists in a conscious resistance to temptation,

not ignorance of them.

GILBERT: Teach him to fight, Mrs. Graham, not run away.

If you want him to walk honorably through the world,

you mustn't try and clear the stones from his path.

I shall lead him by the hand till he has the strength to go alone.

I cannot trust that he will be one man in a thousand

and have that strength and virtue as a birthright.

You do not think very highly of us, then.

I know nothing about you. I speak of those I do know.

Is it not better to arm your hero than to weaken him with too much care?

Would you say the same of a girl?

-Must her virtue be tested in battle? -I should say not.

A woman's virtue is her modesty, a man's his strength of will.

I would wish a woman's virtue to be shielded from temptation.

Why?

You would have us encourage our sons to prove all things by their own experience,

whilst our daughters must remain in ignorance until it is too late.

-Too late? -I tell you, Mr Markham,

if I thought my son would grow up to be what you call a man of the world,

I would rather that he died tomorrow.

I'm sorry.

Come, Arthur.

Well, must you go?

Well, it seems you ladies will always have the last word.

You may have as many as you like but I cannot stay to hear them.

It is past Arthur's bedtime.

Mrs. Markham.

Rose.

Reverend.

She's very proud of her own opinions.

She's probably happy living all alone in that gloomy place.

I pity poor Mr Graham, whoever he may have been.

MILLWARD: What do you make of Mrs. Graham?

MRS. MARKHAM: I didn't mean to upset her but I do think she's wrong.

MILLWARD: Wrong? I should not say wrong, my dear Mrs. Markham.

I should call it criminal. She's not only making a fool of the boy,

but teaching him to despise the blessings of providence.

I will pray for her.

-And for the little boy. -Indeed, him as well.

Well, Gilbert?

-What do you think of our new arrival? -I can't say I like her much.

Too hard, too sharp, too bitter for my taste.

- Mrs. Markham, your hospitality and ale have been as excellent as ever.

Mr Millward, you're too kind.

Come, Eliza.

What you see in her, I don't know.

-Artful little thing. -Mother!

If you marry her, you'll break my heart, that's all.

Is that what you want, to break my heart?

-Black is such an unbecoming colour. -It seems to match her mood.

I hope she will not be still in mourning at your wedding, Eliza.

She would make such a gloomy spectacle.

-Jane! -He's still not asked you?

Well, tut-tut, Eliza. You mustn't let him slip away.

I have already ordered my silks from London.

What have you two found so interesting to whisper about?

Well, we were just saying that spring is such an enchanting time for weddings.

Arthur.

Arthur, what are you doing?

[ Flashback ]

Leave him alone!

-You put a sheepfold up on Long Hill? -Yes, sir.

I'm putting it to plough next year.

-Oh, it's a bit of common land up there, sir. -You'll see.

Our sheep have lambed twice across it, it will bear as good wheat as any in the vale.

What brings you up here?

I'm not entirely dedicated to cookery and cross-stitch, you know.

A dismal place it is.

Can anyone bear to live there?

I wonder if it's as gloomy inside as out?

You're just like all the others. You just want to snoop.

It's not true.

Mother says we should make newcomers feel welcome, whatever they're like.

Why, Gilbert, I do believe you're afraid of her.

(Door opening)

-Is it him? -No, ma'am.

It's Mr Markham and his sister.

Why won't these people leave me alone?

(Door opening)

I'm afraid there is no fire today. I was not expecting guests.

Thank you, Rachel.

You will forgive me if I continue.

It amazes me how you could choose such a rickety old place to live in, Mrs. Graham,

instead of some nice, neat little cottage.

Do you not get lonely up here all by yourself?

HELEN: I'm not sure the loneliness of the place was not one of its chief attractions.

Two miles away from your nearest neighbors. It would drive me stark mad.

Where were you living before, Mrs. Graham?

How prettily you've embellished our rugged landscape.

-Very picturesque. -You sound surprised.

Not at all.

But why call it Fernley Manor when it's quite plainly this very house?

I have my reasons.

-And these initials, RS... -Shall we call it a trade name?

(Footsteps approaching)

Ah, Arthur, here's your friend come to visit you.

-Hello, young man. And how are you? -Where's your dog?

Now I see the source of my attraction.

He's at home. You shall see him another time.

So you don't intend to keep it?

The painting.

I cannot afford to paint for my own amusement.

Mama sends all her pictures to London and they send us money.

You must see Windley Bay, Mrs. Graham.

There are some magnificent views to inspire you.

-Really? -ROSE: We were planning to make an excursion.

-You must join us. -Excuse me.

It's Mama's friend.

Here, look at this. Quite a dandy, isn't he? I wonder who he is?

HELEN: It's someone about the painting. I told him to wait...

-Would it be impertinent to ask...? -Yes, I'm afraid it would.

You'll forgive me, I have work to do. Rachel will see you out.

Goodbye, young man.

Do not be angry, Mr Markham.

I'm truly sorry I have offended you.

You will join us at Windley Bay after all?

We'll make quite a picnic of it when the fine weather comes.

Goodbye, Mrs. Graham.

It grieves me to see you in such wretched surroundings.

I have all I need.

I have received another letter.

Will I never be free?

Oh, Frederick, if it were not for you.

But you must be careful.

We both have watchful neighbors.

Those boots. I don't know how she can bear to be seen in them.

And an artist, too.

A great pity Mr Lawrence was not able to join us.

He has business in town.

Mr Markham doesn't seem to regret his absence.

-More pie, Gilbert? -Shall I cut you some?

Gilbert?

-Sorry? -Shall I cut you some more pie?

No.

There! Now go and show Mr Markham.

I'll, er...

I'll just go and...get...

Must have come over here about 2,000 years ago.

You're embarrassing me, Richard. Put your book down.

-In leather boats. -Put your book down and look at the view.

Lovely pie. You must give me the recipe.

You startled me.

-I'm sorry. -Where's Arthur? Is he all right?

He's with Miss Millward.

-What do you want? Are they all coming? -No. Only me.

Good.

-I'm tired of talking. -I shan't say a word.

I'll just sit here and watch you drawing.

I don't care to be observed.

Then I shall admire the wonderful view.

Are you still there?

Why don't you go and amuse yourself with your friends?

Because I'm tired of them. Like you.

(Dog barking)

Arthur!

(Arthur screaming)

Arthur!

-Arthur! Oh, my God! -Quiet. You'll frighten him.

Arthur. Look at me, Arthur.

That's it. Good lad.

Don't be frightened. You'll soon be safe.

Give me your hand.

Come on. Give me your hand. That's it.

That's it. That's it.

I only looked away for a moment! It was only a moment.

It wasn't your fault, Eliza. Don't worry.

This way.

Does it hurt?

What were you thinking of?

How could you be so foolish?

He's well enough. No bones broken.

You should leave that to the seagulls, eh?

(Helen sobbing)

Is your farm so very well managed it runs without you, Mr Markham?

Why do you ask?

Why? Whenever Arthur and I come out, there you are.

Who was here first? I could ask the same of you, Mrs. Graham.

-Arthur, don't go too far. -He's safe enough.

Tell me something.

How is it you judge the distance between the foreground and the background?

A combination of geometry and experience, I suppose.

Surely mathematics has no place on the moors.

You don't like my painting, Mr Markham?

-I didn't mean it, it's just... -Don't apologize.

They're in the public taste. Pretty pictures devoid of feeling.

Don't forget, this is how I earn my living.

I shan't disturb you, then.

Any longer and you won't be able to mix the colours in your palette fast enough.

Do I sense another criticism of my work?

I wouldn't know how to hold a brush.

I do know that when the sun slips behind the clouds,

the blue heather turns purple.

And then, just for a moment before the sun drops behind the hill,

the whole moor turns into a sea of gold.

I would love to see it.

They call it pauper's gold...

'cause no rich man could ever own such beauty.

(Door opening)

Out till all hours again?

Your tea's been waiting these five and 40 minutes.

Rose, pour Gilbert some tea.

I'm sorry, Mother. I was out with a farmer on Barrow Hill.

I hear there is some very fine views of Wildfell Hall from Barrow Hill.

Hey, who are these?

Fergus brought them in, from shepherd Carter's bitch.

-Is it stewed? -It'll do.

''It'll do'' won't do in this house, my lad. Rose, make Gilbert some fresh tea.

-Mother. -Do it.

If it was me, I'd get no tea at all.

If it was Fergus even, he would have to make do with stewed tea and be thankful.

-But, you, oh, no, nothing's too good for you. -MRS. MARKHAM: Enough of your muttering, Rose.

It's always what the men want that matters.

-And a very good doctrine, too. -A very convenient one, I'm sure.

Oh, I should never know how much I owe you, my dear mother,

if Rose didn't choose to enlighten me now and then.

You wait till you're married, my lad.

If you marry some thoughtless flippit like that Millward girl, you'll see a difference.

It'll do me good, Mother. I don't expect to be spoiled.

(Scoffing) No, not much.

I'd take more pleasure in making my wife happy than being constantly cosseted by her.

That's lad's talk. You wait and see.

-Mr Markham. -Hello, Arthur.

What is it, lad? What is it?

(Laughing)

Thank you.

I brought something for you, too.

You said you were fond of Wordsworth.

I can't accept presents.

Please, open it.

I am terribly sorry, Mr Markham. I cannot possibly take it.

-Not unless you let me pay for it. -Why not?

I would be under an obligation, which I don't want.

-You already do so much for my son. -Nonsense.

You won't take it, then?

Gladly.

If you let me pay for it.

There. Satisfied?

Two guineas exactly. Not forgetting three shillings and four pence, carriage.

You think yourself insulted.

-Try to understand. -Oh, I understand.

You think that if you accept this trifle of me, I shall presume on it hereafter.

I assure you that is not the case.

Well...

I shall take you at your word.

But remember.

I will.

-Markham. -Lawrence.

-What did Markham want? -He brought a puppy as a present for the boy.

Is that all he wanted?

-Every day? -So they say. At night, too.

My father's seen his horse outside her door.

-Wow. -I know.

-Miss Millward, am I interrupting? -No, not at all.

Where's Fergus hiding, the lazy scoundrel?

ROSE: I've no idea.

Gilbert, have you heard these shocking rumors about Mrs. Graham and Mr Lawrence?

What rumors?

-You haven't heard? -No.

-I daresay it may only be idle gossip. -I daresay.

I must be going. Papa's expecting me.

-You'll be coming on Friday? -Oh, yes, I wouldn't miss it for the world.

-Goodbye, Gilbert. -Goodbye, Eliza.

You were very rude to Eliza Millward.

She is a malicious scandalmonger.

You didn't always think so.

LAWRENCE: Now, how many times can you catch it?

-Can you catch it? -ARTHUR: Let me! Let me!

Fergus! Leave some for the others.

...slopping around in the stomach.

FERGUS: Did you bake these?

Here, look at Gilbert and Eliza.

Did you ever see such art?

-As if they were perfect strangers. -Who?

Mrs. Graham and Mr Lawrence.

-What? -Oh, Gilbert, you can't pretend to be ignorant.

-Ignorant of what? -Shh! Not so loud.

Fergus!

Well?

Have you observed the striking likeness between that child of hers and...

What have I done to offend you? I wish I knew.

Drink your tea, Eliza, and don't be so foolish.

-That's my father. -Is it very like him?

It should be. My late husband paid fifty guineas for that.

Rose, come here.

Do you paint at all, Miss Wilson?

Only as an accomplishment, not as a trade.

Would you be so good as to change places with me, Miss Markham?

I don't care to sit by Mrs. Graham.

If your mama thinks proper to invite such persons to her home,

she cannot object to her daughter keeping company with them.

You've escaped, too?

I am weary to death of small talk.

I'm sorry. I mean no disrespect to your mother.

-Or your sister. -I know.

-Would you prefer me to leave you alone? -No, no.

I am not entirely a hermit.

I fear your friends must find me a very dull guest.

Not at all.

I'm afraid I've grown used to my own company.

I believe I possess the faculty of enjoying the company of those I...

...of my friends as well in silence as in conversation.

I don't know if I believe you...

but if it were so, you would exactly suit me for a companion.

I am all you wish, then, in other respects?

No, I... I didn't mean that.

What sort of person is Jane Wilson?

Elegant, accomplished.

I find her somewhat cold and supercilious.

To you, perhaps. I fancy she regards you as something of a rival.

Me? Why?

Well, I know nothing of it.

Helen, what is it that you're afraid of?

Why can you not speak freely, to me at least?

Please don't ask me.

I can't explain.

Helen...

trust me.

It's getting cold.

Can I walk you home?

-There's no need. -It's no trouble.

No, really. Arthur!

Good night, Markham.

I said, ''Good night, Markham.''

What's the matter, man? Sulking because she wouldn't let you walk her home?

-What business is it of yours? -None at all.

But I'm warning you, Markham,

if you do have designs in that direction, you're wasting your time.

You hypocrite.

Good night, Eliza.

ROSE: Where you going, Gilbert?

Take a walk.

Very smart for a walk.

I wish you wouldn't go up there.

Where?

For her sake, as much as your own, just be more careful.

What do you mean?

Rose?

People think your visits to the Hall are but another proof of her depravity.

She's my friend, Rose.

My friend.

I didn't always mean to be a farmer.

My mother told me I was capable of anything.

Didn't you believe her?

Father thought ambition was the surest road to ruin and change,

but another word for destruction.

And you, what did you think?

I'd better be an obedient son and do as he bade me with his dying breath.

What of your family?

What did he bid you do?

To follow in his footsteps, looking neither right nor left,

and to pass on the paternal acres to my children in as good a condition as he left them me.

An honest ambition, surely?

I'll try and remember that when I'm working the frozen byre on an icy January morning.

Thank you, Betty.

Oh, Vicar, and in such terrible weather.

Passing, ma'am, just passing.

I thought I might just perhaps partake of a glass of your excellent ale.

Of course, Vicar, of course. Betty.

I've been to call...on Mrs. Graham.

I thought it incumbent on me...

That's the thing.

I thought it incumbent on me as her pastor.

Oh? Why?

''Mrs. Graham,'' I said,

''it is my painful duty to tell you that your conduct is most reprehensible.''

And what did she say?

-Hardened, ma'am, hardened like a savage. -Rose, go.

Her face turned white, she drew in her breath through her teeth like a savage.

-How dare you speak of her in such terms? -Gilbert!

It was a most shocking thing to witness in one so young.

I am determined, ma'am, that my daughter shall not consort

with such an unwholesome influence. As to your own children...

Gilbert!

...and three onions.

MILLWARD: She has abandoned herself to depravity. I only pray no one else...

WOMAN: Pretending to be so pious and motherly.

(Children cheering)

CHILDREN: Judy!

PUPPET: Oh, you're bad, bad, bad!

-Stop that noise! -Did he hurt the lady?

CHILDREN: Yeah! PUPPET: Oh, no, I never!

[ Flashback ]

(Doorbell ringing)

Gilbert.

I know what's happened, Helen, and I must speak with you.

Do you, the hero, do champion a woman suspected and despised by all around her?

Who cares what other people say? As long as we have ourselves and each other.

I have wronged you.

No.

I tried to think your feelings for me were cold and brotherly.

Are yours?

I did not wish to encourage you.

You could not have treated me with less encouragement or more severity.

Helen, don't you know...

I'd rather have your friendship than the love of any other woman in the world.

Gilbert.

Tell me, what is it? It might ease your mind.

If I do, you may despise me, too.

I could never despise you.

Do you love me?

Do you know what love is?

Real love?

Love that tears your soul apart?

You think love brings happiness. It does not.

Wait.

Meet me tomorrow...

by the stile on Long Hill at midday.

I will tell you everything then.

(Thudding)

It's just Arthur. You must go.

HELEN: Come outside. I want to see the moon and breathe the evening air.

They will do me good, if anything will.

You shouldn't let it worry you, Helen.

I shall be more cautious in the future.

But I must leave this place, Frederick.

I never can be happy here.

And where would you find a better place, so secluded, so near me?

No, no. I cannot consent to lose you, Helen.

I must go with you or come to you, wherever you are.

Why won't these people leave me alone?

There are meddling fools everywhere, Helen.

[ Waiting for Gilbert on the moor. ]

Gilbert, I need to talk to you.

Please, only for a moment.

Why didn't you meet me on the moor?

Because I discovered your secret for myself.

Impossible.

That's what I would have said, had I not seen it with my own eyes.

What?

I would have told you everything

but now I see you are not worthy of it.

I don't care what you think of me.

(Door opening)

Lawrence, stand back!

Markham, what are you doing, man? Why this quarrel between us?

Where are you going?

I tried to warn you.

HELEN: No!

Get off of him! Get off!

I tried to tell you. He's my brother.

HELEN: Here in this haven of Wildfell, I feel almost free at last,

except for one haunting care, the dread of discovery.

After all that has befallen me, it is hard to revisit the spirit of my youth.

But I shall set it all down now as it was, as a lesson to myself.

(Lively instrumental music playing)

(Music ends, crowd applauds)

When I was just 18, my aunt and uncle brought me to London for the season,

by the end of which it was my aunt's intention to have me settled and well provided for.

But I was young and full of romantic notions.

Childhood acquaintances who had teased a gawky 12-year-old

and shunned her attempts to join in their sport had now grown and changed.

Much to their surprise, so had I.

Always remember to receive every attention coldly and dispassionately

till you have ascertained and duly considered its worth.

Yes, Aunt.

I fear, my dear, you have rather too much beauty for a young girl.

I hope you may never have cause to regret it.

Why should you fear it, Aunt?

Beauty invariably attracts the very worst kind of men

and could lead to a great deal of trouble.

Have you ever been troubled in that way, Aunt?

Believe me, Helen, matrimony is a serious thing.

Niece, I'd like to introduce my good friend Mr Boarham.

Delighted.

(Men laughing uproariously)

HELEN: I recalled Arthur Huntingdon as a bold and reckless child,

surrounded then, as now, by mischievous companions.

My aunt took great care to keep me away from him.

Her intentions were admirable. Her choice of men was not.

I still shudder at the remembrance of Mr Boarham's voice droning in my ear.

...duteous affections, than I to you.

And on the other hand, let me hope that my...

HELEN: Nothing could dislodge him.

May I have the honour?

Mr Huntingdon. Will you excuse me?

Of course, my dear.

I thought you needed rescuing.

How chivalrous.

My motives were entirely selfish, I assure you.

Who wouldn't choose to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room?

Your old beau is still making piggy eyes at you.

Mr Boarham?

How appropriate.

Are you always so uncivil, Mr Huntingdon?

Oh, you favour him?

I misunderstood. Let me return you to him directly.

I see you are quite as wicked as they say you are.

It's true.

But a little daily talk with you, I'm sure, would make me quite a saint.

You could not have found a man with a worse reputation.

He behaved as a perfect gentleman to me.

Naturally. His sort always do at first.

Always depend on a rogue for a beguiling manner.

What is a poor beguiling rogue to do, Aunt?

If every woman followed your advice, society would soon come to an end.

What do you think of Mr Boarham?

-Mr Boarham? -A sober, sensible, respectable man.

-Of 50. -40.

-Aunt! -45, perhaps.

Well, how do you like him?

I have no doubt Mr Boarham would be a worthy and devoted partner

-throughout life's pilgrimage. -You do?

I do. I have it on the best authority. He told me so himself.

And what did you say?

I assured him I should not fail to recommend him

to any pilgrim ladies of 50 I happen to meet.

(Clattering)

Mr Huntingdon!

Very pretty.

It's not finished.

Very fitting.

Spring just opening into summer.

Girlhood just ripening into womanhood.

Is she dreaming of her sweetheart,

imagining how tender and faithful she will be to him?

Or perhaps how tender and faithful he will be to her.

I suppose so. The young are very hopeful.

You think her deluded, then?

I might have said so once.

Now I say

give me the girl I love, and I will swear eternal constancy to her,

through summer, winter, youth and age.

You can't look at those.

-They're just sketches. -I love a young girl's sketches.

Oh, my word.

Got it rather well, I think.

Mr Huntingdon, I insist you give me that back. It is mine and you have no right to it.

Since you value it so much, I'll not deprive you of it.

AUNT: Helen.

Helen!

Helen?

Aunt.

(People chattering)

HELEN: As the weeks passed,

my aunt's disapproval of Mr Huntingdon served only to increase my fascination.

She persisted in her hopes that Mr Boarham would win me over.

But Arthur Huntingdon was always in my thoughts and dreams.

I looked forward to our every meeting,

although too rarely did we have a chance to be alone together.

-Miss Lawrence. -Mr Hargrave.

-Good evening. -Lord Lowborough.

-Miss Lawrence. -Mr Huntingdon.

-Miss Lawrence. -Mr Boarham.

# Fondest love songs

# Beautiful memory

# Though summer has gone

# That laughing eye #

HELEN: His attentions to me were strangely fitful.

Sometimes he would shower me with compliments and seeming affection.

But whenever Annabella Wilmot was in the room, he scarcely seemed to notice me at all.

# What's that to dwell

# Shalt shield my soul

# And comfort me well

# That voice whose magic tone awake #

HUNTINGDON: Helen.

What is it?

It's nothing.

Nothing?

Nothing to you, Mr Huntingdon.

Are you sure it's nothing to me?

Please leave me.

Only if you tell me what you were thinking of.

You are excessively impertinent.

Do you want me to go?

Yes.

Or shall I tell you a secret?

Do you want me to tell you a secret, Helen?

Shall I tell you that compared to you

Annabella Wilmot is a flaunting peony

compared to a wild, sweet rosebud?

Shall I tell you that I love you to distraction?

Am I still being impertinent, Helen?

Please.

Shall I tell you that I can't live without you?

-You mustn't say such things. -Why?

Because you don't mean them.

Oh, but I do.

I never meant anything more in my life.

Marry me, Helen.

What do you say?

Tell me you love me.

Helen.

(Clearing throat)

I beg you 10,000 pardons, Mrs. Maxwell. Don't be too severe upon me.

I've been asking your sweet niece to take me for better or for worse and...

she informs me she cannot think of it without her aunt and uncle's consent.

We will talk of this another time, sir. You're wanted in the drawing room.

I know I'm a presumptuous dog to dream of possessing such a treasure

but I swear,

I would sacrifice body and soul for sweet Helen's happiness.

Body and soul, Mr Huntingdon? Sacrifice your soul?

-Well, I would lay down my life. -That will hardly be required of you.

-What I mean is, I have never... -Your meaning is transparent, sir.

The company await you.

He is dissolute, light-headed and vain, and he is recklessly squandering his fortune.

I do truly believe that his worst vice is thoughtlessness.

I must say, Helen, I thought better of your judgement than this.

I love him, Aunt.

I'm afraid he is not kind.

He only wants for guidance.

May I not love the sinner but hate the sin?

(Organ plays processional tune)

I'd like to keep you in a museum.

Just for me.

I'd come and look at you.

My work of art.

My wife.

(Door opening)

Gilbert, the most dreadful news.

It's Mr Lawrence. He's been attacked.

They say his head's all broken open and his body covered in bruises.

What nonsense!

It was you, wasn't it?

Just leave me alone.

Get out!

(Huntingdon chuckles)

What are you thinking?

Oh, it's nothing.

Tell me.

(Sighing) Actually, I was thinking of someone I used to know.

Lady Eleanor Fane.

Fane?

That was many years ago. I can't think why she should pop into my mind now.

Was she...

What, my love?

Was she what?

You and she...

Were you...?

Poor love.

I did not mean to upset you.

It's of no consequence. She had this dreadful old bore of a husband.

She was married?

Well, now, don't look so severe.

Is it such a wicked thing to make someone happy?

How could it make her happy to deceive her husband?

I assure you, it did.

Don't worry, my angel.

I don't care for her now.

I swear I never loved any of them half as much as I love you.

If I'd known all this before, I should never have married you.

-(Chuckling) Wouldn't you, my angel? -No.

(Sighing)

You know, Helen, if I believed you, I would be very angry.

But luckily, I don't.

Now watch how she lets him catch her.

Poor old Lowborough.

Poor fool's quite besotted.

-He thinks she's in love with him. -But isn't she?

That's the cream of the jest. The artful minx loves nothing about him,

but his title and his delightful family seat.

-How do you know? -She told me so herself.

-I see nothing to laugh at. -I'm laughing at you now, my love.

(Footsteps approaching)

-Helen. -Annabella.

Forgive this intrusion, but I couldn't wait to tell you my news.

What do you think?

Lord Lowborough has proposed and I've been pleased to accept him.

Don't you envy me?

Do you love him?

Yes, to be sure.

And will you be a good wife to him, do you think?

Why, the best.

Then I hope you'll be very happy together.

We shall.

Just as happy as you and Huntingdon.

Why is this such a dull neighborhood?

It's only when my brother comes that I see anything of society.

(Men chattering in next room)

I expect you'll be going back and forth constantly to London.

Not at all.

A country life suits us.

-We are quite content to remain at home. -Really?

I never knew Huntingdon to remain here above three months in an entire year.

MEN: ...eight, nine, ten!

Come on. Now you, Lowborough.

No! No, let me go.

I'm not doing it. I've told you, I've made up my mind.

Getting to be a regular epidemic, this marriage business.

HUNTINGDON: Toast. Annabella.

ALL: Annabella.

I understand congratulations are due, Helen.

Oh, forgive me.

Was it supposed to be a secret?

Huntingdon is always so indiscreet.

I'd want some meek little home bird,

who'd let me go wherever I want, do whatever I like, and not a word of complaint.

Well, find me one of those and I just might be tempted.

Millicent.

-Who? -Hargrave's sister.

Say, Hargrave, what about Millicent for old Hatters? Suit him to a tee.

Oh, absolutely.

Meekest girl you'd ever find. You'd love her.

Just say the word and you shall have her, old man.

-Millicent. -Millicent.

-Millicent. -Millicent.

MEN: Millicent!

(Men laughing raucously)

HATTERSLEY: Pretty little thing.

(Inaudible)

Do you tell Annabella Wilmot all our private affairs?

Oh, no, my love, only the spicy bits.

Most of our private life is so unendurably virtuous,

I should not dream of admitting it to our friends.

HATTERSLEY: Admirable marriage discipline, old man. Admirable.

Helen, my darling.

My love.

My love.

I'm such a brute, I know.

-Arthur... -I didn't mean it.

Forgive me.

Rachel.

Tell Richards to hurry with the coach.

The coach? Where are you going?

To London.

What about our guests?

Well, I am accompanying them this very hour.

Can I come?

No need for that, my love. I have a little business with my lawyer.

Piece of property to sell.

Do let me come with you.

And bore you, my love, in the foul London air?

You know how you hate the London air.

There are places I could visit, people I could see. Arthur, please!

Helen, on your health, you know,

depends the health, if not the life, of our future hope.

I don't wish to keep you a prisoner at home if you are happy to be away.

Oh, you do worry about me?

Well then, in that case...

promise you I'll be back before you've even noticed I've gone.

HELEN: Arthur stayed away above two months.

He seldom wrote,

and when he did, he told me little about what he was doing.

But I did not need his letters to imagine the kind of life he led

among all his dissolute companions, drinking himself to oblivion, and worse.

When he finally returned, I longed to upbraid him for his neglect.

But he was still my husband and the father of my child.

Seeing him standing there,

his beauty strangely diminished, already anticipating forgiveness,

my heart swelled with pity.

It was all I could do to hold him.

(Sobbing) Arthur.

(Playing sprightly duet)

Good.

G sharp.

Yes.

(Playing off-key)

Oh, damn it.

It's useless. I have no patience for it.

You just need a little practice.

I've invited some of the old crowd down. Hope you don't mind.

I haven't seen Lowborough since he got married.

Thought it might be rather fun to see how he's liking it.

Poor old Lowborough. So blind.

Well, at least he's in good company.

(Playing soft instrumental piece on piano)

HUNTINGDON: Annabella.

(Chuckling)

I suppose I'm in for one of your lectures.

It's not a joke, Arthur, unless you think it's a joke to torture me.

Love, come now!

Forgive me, Helen.

Dear Helen, forgive me.

I promise I'll never, never do it again.

You think it's all so amusing.

It's nothing, I tell you.

-Don't make such a fuss! -Nothing!

Flirting with a woman in front of her husband's face?

What about your marriage vows? Are they nothing, too?

But you're the one breaking the marriage vows.

Honour and obey. Remember?

I won't be dictated to by you.

What will you do?

Go on till I hate you?

You'll never hate me, Helen.

You can't hate me, can you?

Can you?

(Door slamming)

Your husband was very merry last night, Helen.

Is he often so?

No.

And he will not be so again.

You gave him a sermon, did you?

I thought he was looking a little subdued.

Helen, you've been crying.

Nothing like a few tears to bring them round.

I never cry for effect. Do you?

I never cry at all. No need.

But I'd make Lowborough cry all right, if he tried anything like that.

Not that I need to worry.

He worships the ground I tread on.

Are you sure you deserve to be worshiped?

Oh, I doubt it very much.

But are you sure darling Huntingdon deserves all the love you give him?

Driver.

Pleasant little woman, that Millicent.

You should try to be more like her, my love.

Hattersley swears there's not such a jewel in all England.

Does he love her?

To distraction. Almost as much as his horse.

He gave 2,000 guineas for that.

I'm sorry.

You're always sorry.

Arthur, don't. Please.

-No, don't. Don't, don't, don't, don't. -I'm sorry.

(Frantically) No, don't. No, no, no, no, please, don't.

-Oh, yes. Yes. -No! No, the baby! Don't! Don't!

Cursed damn thing.

I'm sorry.

-Good morning, Mary. -Mrs. Huntingdon.

HUNTINGDON: I have gone to London for a few days because I cannot be happy here.

It's a wretched thing when a man knows his wife doesn't love him.

Trust you'll be in a better temper when I return.

(Agonized groan)

(Baby crying)

What a wonderful picture.

Mother, child and faithful retainer.

Mr Hargrave.

He's a pretty little fellow.

Rachel, it's getting chilly. I should take him in now.

I fear you must be lonely here, with Huntingdon so often absent.

I wonder that he can stay away from all of this.

I expect him back very soon.

Actually, I had a letter from him this morning.

I wish it were the kind of thing that I could show a lady.

But he tells me he plans to return next week.

He tells me so every time he writes.

Really? How like him.

Is it possible, Mrs. Huntingdon, that you can rejoice at his return?

Of course, Mr Hargrave.

Is he not my husband?

HELEN: In truth, I felt less joy than apprehension at Arthur's return.

HUNTINGDON: Helen!

Helen!

HELEN: He had stayed away so long,

I felt we should be strangers.

(Yelling furiously) Am I not to receive a welcome in my own house?

Rachel, come here.

Damn it, you old witch.

Pull harder!

Arthur.

Where have you been?

-I need a drink. -Arthur, please.

Don't start lecturing me already, woman!

Fetch me a damn drink!

(Coughing)

That's better.

Come with me.

What?

Upstairs.

Been missing me, have you?

I've been missing you.

You and your delicate goodness.

And your skin.

There.

Isn't he lovely?

(Crying faintly)

Gently, gently.

Hello.

Hello, I'm your papa.

(Crying louder)

Papa.

Take it. You take it.

(Gently shushing)

Can't you stop it making that damn noise?

He needs to sleep.

There's more in one minute

lavished on that little senseless, thankless oyster than you give me in a month.

-Now you are equal. -Are we?

Damn you!

You damned stupid oaf!

Arthur, he couldn't help it.

Thank you, Benson. That will be all.

How dare you take a servant's part against me?

How can you care about a stupid, insensitive brute like that

when my nerves are being torn to shreds by his confounded blunders?

I didn't know you suffered from nerves.

Oh, you think I shouldn't have nerves as well as you?

You... You have nothing to do

but stay at home and take care of yourself.

And when my head is splitting,

you have more concern for the servant than for me.

Perhaps if you took a little less wine, you might...

By Jove, if you start on that again,

I shall order six bottles and drink them before bed.

What a shame it is for a strong man like you to reduce yourself to such a state.

If you knew all, my girl,

you would rather wonder I bear it as well as I do.

I've lived more in these four months away, Helen,

than you've lived in the entire course of your existence,

or will until the end of your days.

So I must expect to pay for it in some shape.

Can't you see it's killing you?

Oh, no. No, it isn't this.

It isn't this that's killing me.

It's you!

You're the one that's killing me!

Why must you always judge me, Helen?

Why can't you just love me?

Dear Helen, what are you crying for?

You know I love you.

Do you?

You know I do.

Oh, Arthur.

If only you would love yourself as much as I love you.

Perhaps I know myself too well.

HELEN: As the years passed, Arthur's absences grew longer.

I spent many months alone in that great house, with my son my only consolation.

I still loved my husband. And in his own way, he loved me.

Papa! Papa!

Oh, but how very different from the love I could've given, and once had hoped to receive.

Now, there, my boy.

I grew to cherish the tranquility of the empty house,

which was only disturbed when Arthur's friends came to visit.

Helen, my dear, how are you?

It's been such a long time.

-Mrs. Huntingdon. -Mrs. Huntingdon.

(Men singing drunkenly)

George...

why don't you go and join the men?

You look so silly to be always dangling after the women.

Very well.

Since my presence is disagreeable to you, I will relieve you of it.

It would serve you right, Annabella, if he went back to his old habits.

You'd be sorry then.

On the contrary,

I wouldn't mind if His Lordship saw fit to get blind drunk every night.

HUNTINGDON: Get off. Get out!

Here you are. Come on.

Come on, you're going to enjoy yourself, even if you hate it.

Get off me, you drunken idiot!

Ralph.

Please, stop.

HATTERSLEY: What's the matter with you?

What are you crying for?

-I'm not crying. -Don't you lie to me.

Tell me! What are you crying for?

Ralph, please. We're not at home now.

-Tell me! Tell me. -How can you let him treat your sister like that?

-HARGRAVE: Come on, Hatters, leave her alone. -Show some respect.

It's your own wife.

Mr Hargrave, have you seen my husband?

Not since...

Not since he went outside.

Outside?

He said he needed some air.

Oh, my darling.

Helen.

Did I startle you?

What are you doing here?

You'll catch a chill. Go back inside.

Nonsense, it's a glorious night.

Catch your death, you mad creature.

Please.

Go back to your guests.

-Are you coming in? -In a minute.

-We can't stay here. -I know, I saw her.

I saw you kissing her.

I couldn't help it. And besides...

Haven't I had to watch you kissing your dolt of a husband 100 times?

Yes.

But you still love her, don't you?

No, not at all, I swear by all that's sacred.

(Huntingdon coughing)

Arthur.

Come here. I want to talk to you.

What are you doing...

sitting up here on your own in the dark?

You look like a ghost.

Won't you sit down?

I would leave you tonight,

and never again come under this roof, but for my child.

What are you talking about, Helen?

You know full well.

I saw you and heard you tonight.

Both of you.

Ah.

Well, what of it?

Let me take my child and what's left of my money, and go.

Go where?

Anywhere we can be safe from your contaminating influence.

No.

God damn it, I won't. No.

Let me just take my child, then.

No, not you, not him, not the money, nothing. You are my wife.

Do you think I'm going to be made a laughing stock because of you?

-I have created no scandal. -And will not, either.

That is up to you.

Don't threaten me.

(Choking)

''And with my body, I thee worship.''

Remember, Helen?

You promised.

I never want you to touch me again.

(Horse and carriage approaching)

- Saddle up. - Right-o. - Move on.

How come you lock it?

Is it an invitation?

Shall I take it as an invitation from husband to wife?

What to you want?

Which you could be away again?

Who are you scribbling to now?

My aunt. I'm just writing to my aunt.

- Let me see. - No.

[ Indistinct. ]

"Where's my dear brother?"

Oh, I see.

"My marriage to Huntington is over."

Yeah.

"I have a little money and may hope to earn more with my painting."

[ Laughing. ]

So that's it, is it?

You can't stop me.

Can't I?

Give me your key.

[ Hands and then drops it. ]

I have another one.

[ Kisses, then bites hand. Helen cries out. ]

[ While slapping. ] So you thought you'd run away

with the property of my son, did you?

So, if you disgrace me by running away,

and turning yourself into some kind of beggarly painter.

Don't you know I'd find you.

Wherever you went I would find you.

Mama.

- Markham, what do you want.

- Come to finish me off?

- I couldn' stopped him. Pushed right past me.

- It's all right, Anne.

- I don't believe Mr. Markham is come to murder me.

- Have you, Markham?

- It's all right. You can go.

Is it true?

Is what true?

Helen. Has she gone?

Yes.

Yes she has.

You're lying.

- In the circumstances, Markham, I shall overlook the rudeness of that remark.

She'd never go back to him?

On the contrary.

She left for Grassdale last night.

Why? She owes him nothing.

Mr. Huntington is ill and wanted to see his son.

My sister, as you know, has a strong sense of her moral obligation.

What kind of a brother are you?

Oh, what a mess!

(Footsteps approaching)

Mr Huntingdon is resting. I hardly think it would be wise to disturb him now.

Your room is ready for you.

You don't like me, do you?

Recent events have hardly warmed my disposition towards you.

After all, I'm only a yeoman farmer,

hardly good enough for your sister.

Arthur?

Seems a waste to be doing all this when we're not staying.

Hmm.

You're surely not thinking of staying, are you?

I don't know.

Thank you, Miss Myers.

I really don't think wine will alleviate my husband's condition.

I'll take that.

It is you.

I had such strange fancies, I thought I was dreaming.

Yes, Arthur, it's me.

I knew you'd come back...

if only to gloat.

I came because you gave me no choice.

I sent for the boy.

I don't want you with your Christian charity hoping to gain yourself a higher seat in Heaven,

dig a deeper pit for me.

-Where is he? What have you done with him? -He's safe. You can see him when you're better.

He's my son. I want to see him now!

No.

This is delightful, isn't it?

You never hoped for such a glorious victory.

DOCTOR: The internal inflammation is well advanced.

I can't say I'm surprised.

Will you never learn, Mr Huntingdon?

I thought so.

There must be no more of this.

It is the only damn thing that keeps me alive.

If you go on believing that, you'll give work to the sexton, not to me.

Miss Myers.

Where are you taking him?

Mr Huntingdon asked especially to see his son.

I will say when Mr Huntingdon can and cannot see his son.

Arthur, go and play outside.

Now that I am here,

I hardly think Mr Huntingdon needs two nurses. Do you?

Especially one that seems more concerned with his whims than his welfare.

I can't see it.

What does it say?

You know what it says.

You'd rob me of my son again, would you?

(Huntingdon sighing)

Damn thing!

It's no good. I'm too ill. I can't.

Then you must be too ill to see your son.

Oh, you are determined to heap coals of fire upon my head.

Where is it I have to sign?

This is no more than blackmail.

Where's your Christian charity now?

Forcing me to sign away the care of my own son.

There.

Are you satisfied?

Now can I see him?

Arthur.

Is that you?

Come here, boy.

Come here, where I can see you.

-Do you know me, boy? -Yes, sir.

Well, who am I, Arthur?

My papa.

That's right.

That's right. Papa.

I'm your papa.

And are you glad to see me, boy?

Yes, sir.

You're not.

You've made him hate me.

How can you do that?

He's my only son.

I have not made him hate you.

Liar!

I can see it in his face.

I have perhaps encouraged him to forget you.

Forget me?

Forget me!

Let me have a look at you.

You're my little man, aren't you?

Yes.

You've grown.

(Horses trotting)

He were that drunk, he asked the landlord if he could recommend him to...

HELEN: So began the final chapter of our marriage.

Months passed slowly and I grew weary of my life.

My greatest source of unease in this time of trial was my son,

whose father delighted in nurturing all the vices a child can show.

In a word, to make a man of him.

(Men talking and laughing loudly)

HARGRAVE: This boy must learn. HATTERSLEY: I think he's got a taste for it.

HARGRAVE: He must be inducted.

HUNTINGDON: First he must learn to drink. Arthur, try this.

Come on, boy. Just taste it.

Come here.

Listen to me.

''Tilly Tit, they say, has wit.''

-Hattersley, don't... -Come on, listen to it.

Shut up, Hargrave.

-Go on, boy. -Repeat it, boy.

''Tilly Tit, they say, has wit.''

''And some, they say, have felt it.''

Huntingdon, I don't think this is the kind of thing...

Nobody cares what you think, Hargrave, so just shut up.

''And some, they say, have felt it.''

''She walks as if she rules the ship.''

''And looks as if she smelt it.''

Go on, boy.

Say it.

Go on.

Say it, boy.

That's it.

ALL: ''Tilly Tit, they say, has wit

''And some, they say, have felt it.''

Arthur.

''She walks as if she rules the ship,

''And looks as if she smelt it.''

HARGRAVE: He's your boy, Huntingdon. There's no doubt about that.

Why didn't you laugh, Mama?

-Make her laugh, Papa, make her laugh. -Oh.

-Arthur, how could you? -Stay!

Stay where you are.

I'll not let you freeze all the sunshine out of his heart

until he's as cold and gloomy as his mama.

He's my son.

I'm going to make a man of him. Do you hear me?

A man.

HELEN: I was a slave and prisoner in that house.

We lived together as strangers with a mutual understanding

that there was no love, friendship, or sympathy left between us.

Arthur, come and read to me.

My son's education was the only pleasure of my lonely life.

I was determined to cure him of the bad habits his father had taught him.

Where were we? Here. Right.

''Dear me, come into the light and let me have a look at you.

''So they all went into the house, and then they put...''

Remember his name?

-Hop O' My... -Hop O' My...

''Hop O' My Thumb

''on the table.

''It was such a big table. And then...''

Forgive me, my dear. Arthur, there's somebody I want you to meet.

Come here, Son.

Arthur?

Arthur, wait.

I regret to say it, my dear,

but I fear you are not fit to teach a young, spirited boy.

Arthur, meet Miss Myers. She's your new governess.

Hello, Arthur.

You needn't worry, my dear. Miss Myers is a very pious young person.

Her father was a clergyman. Isn't that right?

I'll leave you to it.

Arthur, be a good boy. Obey Miss Myers.

The boy is so like his father.

Arthur? Arthur?

Arthur! Arthur, please!

Don't do this to me.

My dear, you have abdicated your responsibilities as a wife,

you are inadequate as a housekeeper

and you've proved yourself unequal to the duties of a mother.

I hardly feel it is your place to make demands.

HELEN: After the arrival of Miss Myers, I was rarely permitted to be alone with my son.

Lessons and books were abandoned for gaming and guns.

I continued to dream of escape.

I could no longer bear to see my child abandoned to corruption.

Better far that he should live in poverty and obscurity with a loving mother

than in luxury and affluence with such a father.

Been in a mood to slaughter birds.

Go on, boy.

The Lord God gave man dominion

over fowls of the air, fishes in the rivers,

and over every other creeping, crawling thing that creeps and crawls about the face of the earth.

It says so in the Bible.

Ask your mother if it doesn't. She'll tell you. Gun.

Today we make war with a pheasant.

Come here, boy. Now, stay behind me.

When you see a bird, tell me to fire.

Fire.

Hargrave, bird.

Hurry up, man!

I'll make a sportsman of you yet, boy.

Now.

Now, go on in. Show your mama that.

Arthur!

What do you think you're doing?!

Here's to young Nimrod.

I said we'd make a sportsman of him.

You call it sport? Killing a bird in a cage?

Even George could manage that.

No, it's an instinct.

He has the instinct. Don't you, boy?

And what instinct is that?

The instinct of a man.

Some more wine, Benson. Here isn't half enough.

There you go, boy.

Drink it, boy. Come on.

Come on, boy.

What's the matter with you? Drink it.

-If he doesn't want it, don't force... -Quiet!

This is your doing!

What have you been doing to him, eh?

Drink it.

Drink it!

Sit down!

Benson, see to it.

Now, man!

I won't stay here another night.

I could endure it for myself

but my son must bear it no longer.

But what will you do?

I'm sorry, Rachel.

You must go home or find another place.

I have no home but with you.

Go in now.

Go on. You'll be missed.

HELEN: My mind was made up.

I decided to return to Wildfell Hall, the place my brother and I were born.

To avoid discovery and evade suspicion, I took my mother's maiden name

and disguised myself in widow's weeds.

(Muffled crying)

(Men talking loudly)

Quick. Open the gate, Arthur.

As I bade farewell to that place, the scene of so much guilt, so much misery,

I felt no shadow of remorse for the husband I left behind.

There was nothing to disturb my joy but the fear of detection.

And every mile we travelled removed us further from that danger.

What are you doing here?

You said that once I'd read that, I wouldn't feel the same.

You were right.

Why did you come back to him?

I had no choice.

There is always a choice, Helen.

My husband is very ill.

I am his wife. I have to do my duty.

That man has forfeited all right to be your husband.

-Is this what you've come to tell me? -I came to tell you that I love you.

I love you, Helen.

Please don't.

Happiness is not a sin.

Let God be the judge of sin, Mr Markham.

I fear we are all too eager to think our pleasures must be blessed.

You are determined to misunderstand me, Mrs Huntingdon.

Forgive me.

I shouldn't have come.

Well, you never told me about your mysterious Mr Markham, my dear.

Perhaps I've misjudged you.

Perhaps you're not so cold-hearted after all.

Mr Markham has a farm near Wildfell. We were neighbours.

It was very neighbourly of him to come all this way to see you.

He was very kind to Arthur.

Only to Arthur?

You disappoint me, my dear.

You can't imagine how it would revive this sinful spirit of mine

to know that you had guilty secrets, too.

ARTHUR: Hargrave, pour me some of that wine.

HELEN: Arthur.

You know, she never gives up, this wife of mine.

Still trying to save me.

Still telling me we can meet again in Heaven.

You, in Heaven?

I know. Can you imagine? Whatever would I find to do there?

(Coughing)

But you know, I rather fancy I shall make a full recovery.

What would you do then, my dear?

Hm?

Will you run away from me again?

That rather depends on you.

I'll be very good.

(Coughing)

Arthur.

Arthur...

Come here. Give me your arm, please. Oh, God.

Open the door.

Oh, you're mighty attentive to me now.

You just wait

till you're safe and secure in Heaven,

and I'm down there

howling in Hellfire.

You won't even dip the tip of your finger in water to cool my thirst.

Get me a drink.

A proper drink, for pity's sake.

One more can't make any difference.

I'm in Hell already.

Now, don't torment with your sermons. Go.

Leave.

(Huntingdon coughing)

Helen?

Mr Hargrave.

I hardly know how to talk to you.

Caring for him like this after all that he has done.

You are half mortal, half angelic.

I fear you exaggerate my virtues.

Do I?

I am only an ordinary mortal, but dare this ordinary mortal ask you something?

Do you never think of revenge?

Revenge?

You see, Helen, I know that you're not the icy being that you pretend to be.

I know that there are feelings in your nature that have never yet been called forth.

-Please don't. -Why this constant reserve, Helen?

-Are you determined to be his slave forever? -Let me go.

-Why deny yourself the possibility of love? -Stop this at once.

Well, you may call it religion or moral scruples, but I call it wild fanaticism.

Let go!

No man has ever dared to insult me the way you do.

I do not insult you, Helen. I worship you.

My husband may have many vices, Mr Hargrave, but hypocrisy is not one of them.

He does not make a science out of self-gratification as you do.

Or dress it up with affectations of sanctity.

Now, leave me. And get out of this house.

HUNTINGDON: Poor old Hargrave.

He never did know when to choose his moment.

It's all right, my love.

I'm not offended.

-I sent him away. -I'm pleased to hear it, my dear.

You deserve much better than Hargrave.

It's curious.

I always tend to love the most unsuitable people.

Do you think so?

It's a pity, isn't it?

Oh, Helen.

I wish I could take you with me.

To plead for me.

-Keeping an eye on me? -No.

Did you see her?

Yes.

And?

It's true, she's gone back to her husband.

-Does she love him? -Who knows? I don't know.

I don't think she does, either.

That's not my concern anymore.

Oh, Gilbert.

-You can't catch me. -Yes, I can.

-No, you can't. -Yes, I can.

-No, you can't. -I'm going to get you.

Then I'm going to eat you up. Oh, I'm going to get you.

No, you're not.

Here I come, and I've got you!

-Round and round. -I'm getting dizzy.

Oh...dizzy.

HELEN: I took Arthur away to get the benefit of the sea air at Scarborough.

I cannot go back yet to Grassdale. There are too many painful associations.

Oh, Frederick, there is such a bitterness of pity for his life and death.

Such a yearning for the emptiness of his whole existence.

I trust time will allay these feelings.

I know I must make a new life for myself.

Mr Lawrence, good day.

ELIZA: Gilbert? Oh, Gilbert.

You'll never believe it. Me father said yes.

He said yes to the dress, yes to the party, yes to the riverbank and the carriage.

We'll have the best day ever.

(Inaudible)

Are you ready yet? We must get there before the bride.

Look, Mama. It's Mr Markham's.

ARTHUR: What's happening?

(Chatter and laughter)

(Festive instrumental music playing)

(Speech inaudible above music)

Hello, Mr Markham. Don't you think I've grown?

Grown? I should say so.

Soon I shall be as tall as you, nearly.

Taller.

You came back.

Yes.

Your husband?

Arthur, why don't you go and see if you can catch this boat?

He died. Three months ago.

I see.

I'm sorry.

-Will you be staying long at Wildfell? -I don't know, perhaps.

I thought I could.

What has changed?

Everything.

Congratulations.

Why?

I hope you'll both be very happy together.

Oh, Helen.

You thought...

Eliza's married Richard Wilson.

She seems quite enraptured.

And you?

I still have my dreams.

Would you give me your hand if I asked for it?

How is it Dr Johnson described a second marriage?

''The triumph of hope over experience.''

-Have you lost hope? -No.

But I have gained experience.

Ask me again in a year's time. If you still feel the same...

A year?

Where is your constancy?

I shall always be constant but... How about the spring?

No, no. Next autumn, perhaps.

Well...

summer, then?

Well, at the close of summer, then I'll be satisfied.