All language subtitles for Maurice.1987.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

- Thank you.

- Hall, come here please.

- Sir?

- Come on.

Have a good send off?

- Yes sir, thank you sir.

Mr. Abrahams gave me a picture,
the light of the world.

The fellas have given
me a set of Guatemalas.

Up to two dollars!

The ones with the parrot
and the pillar on.

Look, sir.

- Oh, splendid, splendid.

And um, what did Mr. Abrahams
say to you?

Told you you were a
miserable sinner, I hope.

- Mr. Abrahams said
I'm never to do anything

I'd be ashamed to do in front of my mother.

He said my next school will
be more like the world.

- Did he, did he?

What's the world like, do you suppose?

- Don't know, sir, I'm a boy.

- Do you, um, have any
older brothers, Hall?

- No, sir, only Kitty and Ada.

They're my sisters, sir.

- No uncles?

- No, sir.

There's Dr. Barry.

He knew my father
before he died.

- So you don't really know a
great many grown-up fellows.

- No, not really, sir.

Mother keeps a coachman,
and George for the garden.

But of course, you mean gentlemen.

- Hall, I'm going to talk
to you for a few moments

as if I were your father.

It isn't anything
your mother could say.

Do you, do you see?

Your body, is about to experience

various changes, physical changes.

Now, Mr. Abrahams has explained

to you that in the beginning,

"God created he man and woman,

"that the earth should
be peopled abundantly."

- Yes sir, Sir...

what changes?

- I speak, Hall, of the
sacred mystery of sex,

the act of procreation
between a man and his wife.

The procreation indeed
of all creeping things.

You will discover that
your membrum virilis,

that's Latin from vir.

- Vir, sir, it means man, sir.

- Very good, very good.

Um, uh, look.

Uh, this might be easier if I...

That, that, that, um, that thing.

There, now, that will...

develop and grow larger.

You see?

And when that happens, the man lies

very, very close to his wife,

and he puts his membrum
virilis into her vagina...

thus.

Then, in due course, she
will bring forth his child.

Seminiferous tubules,

labia major and minor, ducts...

vulva.

That, that is the very
crown of life, Hall.

God's wondrous purpose.

Your body is his temple.

You must never, ever
pollute that temple.

And when,
as one day I'm sure you will,

you fall in love and
marry, you will discover

to serve and protect a woman,

and have children by her,

is life's chiefest glory.

- Yes, sir.

- You must never,

ever mention any of this
to your mother,

or, or, or indeed to any lady.

And if at your next school
the fellows mention it,

just shut them up.

Tell them you know.

- I think I shan't marry.

- What?

Look, um, in 10 years to the day,

I invite you and your wife to dine

with me and my wife as our guests.

What do you say?

- Oh, sir.

- Yes, it's
a bargain then, is it?

Oh, God, those infernal designs.

- Sir, won't they be all right?

The tide will have
covered them by now.

- Oh, yes, the rising tide.

I only hope to God he's right, by God.

- Come, Victoria, come.

- Wagner's utter rubbish.

Fat women with horns on their heads,

singing at the tops of their voices

about how happy they are to be dying.

It's a horrible noise,
and it's unhealthy.

- But music is
about death, it always has been.

- I think
he's trying to provoke us.

Go on then, Risley, enlighten us.

- A superior mind wouldn't
need enlightening.

Music is the highest of the arts.

It needs no reference to the
figurative, or the corporeal.

It is therefore, of all the arts,

the closest to death.

Wagner's by no means unhealthy.

He's merely expressing

most exactly the state of things.

- Help
yourselves to potatoes, Hall.

Don't stand on ceremony.

- I can't stand music.

Or concert halls.

I don't go in for being superior.

- Don't you?

I do.

- Come along, Chapman,
you're in need of food.

- I expect Lord Risley isn't.

I've put him off with my low talk.

- I simply can't think
of a reply to that.

- What about saying nothing?

- Say nothing?

Horrible, he must be mad.

- What you do is more
important than what you say.

Your deeds are more important

than your words.

- What is the difference?

Words are deeds.

Are you trying to say
that these few minutes

talking in the dean's rooms

have done nothing for you?

Will you, for instance,

ever forget that you've met me?

- You're confusing what is important

with what is impressive.

Chapman and Hall will always remember

they've met you,
of that I have no doubt.

- Exactly, because of my conversation.

Oh, they'll forget that
they were engaged

in the act of eating a cutlet.

- At least the cutlet
does some good to them.

You do not.

- I mean, Dean, that a cutlet

merely influences
their subconscious life.

I, by my words,

shape the consciousness.

I am therefore not only

more impressive than the cutlet,

but infinitely more important.

Your dean here dwells
in superstitious clouds

of Christian self-righteousness.

Your dean pretends that

only insensate faith
is of any significance.

And daily he droops,
soporific, into his soup.

- Oh, Risley, shut up.

Come on.

- I think if a man
has ideas like that,

he should have the courtesy
to keep them to himself.

- No, no, no, on the contrary,
one must talk, talk, talk.

It's only by talking that we
shall caper upon the summit.

Otherwise the mountains
will overshadow us.

I'm sure, Hall, you will agree.

- Wait.

I'm eager to hear

more of your interesting ideas

about words and deeds.

My rooms are in Trinity.

And I have a dining club
whose members would,

if I'm not mistaken, interest you.

No need to bring your chum.

- Oh, well.

You're not going, are you?

- Salutations, Risley.

You've bargained for
more than you've gained.

Risley.

You've, uh, you've bargained
for more than you've gained.

Salutations.

- Look.

- Come in.

- Hello?

You're Durham, aren't you?

- Yes.

- I was looking for Risley,
don't know where he is.

- He's debating at the Union.

I was just stealing
his pathetic symphony.

I'm reading a paper on Tchaikovsky,

but I cannot find the third movement.

If it's here at all,
which I don't think it is.

Featherstonhaugh's got a Pianola.

- I know.

His rooms are directly above mine.

- Oh, well, I'll come back
with you then.

You're living in college now?

- Beginning my second year.

- I'm third.

I have seen you, though.

Hall, isn't it?

- If Risley's not coming,

perhaps I'd better get back.

- I didn't know you knew Risley.

He's a dangerous man.

A little of him certainly
goes a very long way.

- You like this music?

- I'm afraid I do, yes.

Sweet water from a foul well,
as they say.

- A good waltz is more my style.

- Hmm, mine too, really.

- Thank you, good night.

- Good night, sir.

- Hall.

- Oh, got your third movement.

- I thought I'd come
along with you instead.

- Here, give me some of those
to carry.

- It's all right, I think
I've got them safe now.

Good night.

- Good night, sir.

- Give.

- Mortarboard.

This bit's supposed to be mad.

- Hall.

You, you should be at this end.

You should get as far away
from the machine as you can.

- Play it again.

If Featherstonhaugh
doesn't mind, that is.

- No, you can't play it again.

It's a, it's a movement.

You have to get right to the end.

Featherstonhaugh, I think I'm
gonna eat one of your apples.

Is this Sophocles?

- Mm.

- Try reading it for the
characters, rather than the author.

It's much more interesting.

Much too fast, Hall.

Slower, slower.

There, otherwise you'll tear it.

- This bit isn't as jolly,
really, is it?

- No, it's not.

Appalling vac.

I nearly wrote to you about it.

My mother started flinging
the cat about

because I wouldn't go to
Communion on Christmas Day.

I mean, I'm unorthodox.

I'm not a Christian.

It was imperative that I made a stand.

- It's a difficult question.

- Hall, come down to the buttery.

Oh, hello, Durham.

Halliday's been given a
case of hock for Christmas.

Reward for good behavior over the vac.

He's asked for us.

- I'm sorry, Chapman, not now.

We're fixing something.

- Oh, I see.

Sorry, well, perhaps
we'll see you later, then.

- Have you known Chapman long?

- Five years,
here and at school.

- Give me a cigarette, would you?

I mean, you've got a mother
and sisters.

All the way through that row

I was thinking what you
would have done.

- My mother never
makes a row about anything.

- That's 'cause you've never
done anything

she wouldn't approve, I expect.

You never will.

I'm disgusted with mine.

I despise her character.

There, I've told you something

no one else in the world knows.

- Won't tell.

- Tell me about your home life.

- Nothing to say.

We just go on.

- Lucky devils.

- Rotten vac, eh?

- Yes, it was, rotten.

Misery and hell.

Ow, that really hurt, ow!

- Misery and hell, eh?

- Hall, what are you,

No, no, Hall, no.

Please, I've got to go.

Don't be such a fool.

I've got to go,
I said I've got a lecture.

- Why don't you go late again?

- Because I can't.

- You think I don't think.

But I can tell you I do.

- "Every human soul has

"at some stage beheld
an excellent being.

"Otherwise, it would not have

"entered into the creature

"we call man.

"When the soul

"gazes upon the beauty

"of that being, its beloved

"it nu, is nurtured

"and warmed, and is glad."

- Featherstonhaugh, continue, please.

- "When the beloved
has made him welcome

"and begun to enjoy
his conversation and--"

- "Society."

- "Society."

"When their intimacy is

"established

"and the loved one

"has grown used

"to being near his friend,

"and touching him in

"the gymnasium and elsewhere,

"the current which Zeus
in love with Ganymede

"called 'the stream of longing.""

- Omit the reference to the
unspeakable vice of the Greeks.

- Ah, yes, sir.

"He, he is experiencing a counterlove,

"a reflection of the love he inspires,

"and he thinks of it as
friendship, not love.

"Though, like his lover,

"he feels a desire to see,
to touch, to kiss him."

- "The unspeakable
vice of the Greeks"?

The hypocrisy of the man.

He ought to lose his fellowship.

- Oh, come on!

- No, as a point of pure scholarship.

All the poor old dean can understand

is the physical act.

I'm not advocating that.

- Cold as a fish on a marble
slab, you see?

- Shut up, Risley.

I'm trying to make
a serious point here,

which is that a masculine love

of physical beauty
and of moral beauty,

and of the beauty of the
thirst for human knowledge,

you omit that and you've omitted

the mainstay of Athenian society.

It's as if our benighted dean

hadn't even read The Symposium.

You read it, Hall?

- No, no, you missed the point.

You have to maintain some
standards of decency.

- No, you don't.

Not if they're propped
up by tenth-hand opinion.

Typical of you, I may say.

- Western civilization happens
to be run on the principles

of Christ's doctrines, not
Plato's bloody essences.

- What exactly do you mean
by Christ's doctrines?

They're open to all
sorts of interpretations.

- You know, the redemption,
the Trinity.

Damn Christ's doctrines.

I can't prove them,
but they mean a lot

to millions of people,
whatever you say.

- Hall.

- That was enormously embarrassing.

I did actually say at 6:00.

- You just made me walk out of chapel.

- I just don't understand it.

Your father always went to church.

- I can't help it, Mother.

I'm made that way.

There's no use arguing.

- Durham.

I wonder if that's
Alicia Durham's brother.

- Besides, I'm not my father.

- Morrie.

What a thing to say.

- Well, he isn't.

Really, Mother, come on.

- Kitty, we are talking
about things not suited,

and you are perfectly wrong

Besides, Morrie is the
image of his father.

Dr. Barry said so.

- Dr. Barry doesn't go
to church himself.

- Dr. Barry is a most clever man,

and so is Mrs. Barry.

- Imagine Mrs. Barry being a man.

- Have you been all right?

- Have you?

- No.

- You wrote that you were.

- Hall!

- Here.

We want tea, we need tea!

We demand tea!

Hello, Durham.

- A glorious
match, we're absolute heroes.

- Peterhouse are abject.

- And wonderful wicket-keeping.

- Don't you have any Darjeeling, Hall?

I don't like this Chinese bilge.

- A marvelous match.

Best so far.

If it hadn't been for my two valiant

catches in the slips--

- Three wickets.

Just dropping them
into the rough spot.

Lt was too easy.

- Hall, Hall.

- Durham, where did you get to?

- I know you read those books
in the vac.

- How do you mean?

- You'll understand then,
I don't have to explain.

- Understand what?

- That I love you.

- Don't talk rubbish.

Durham?

Durham, come back!

- Come on, old man.

- Amen.

- Clive, you're bloody hard.

You don't know what it is
to have a mind in a mess.

Lt makes you very hard.

- Hall, don't be so stupid.

You must know that to be
alone with you hurts me.

- I only want to discuss--

- No, please don't reopen it.

It's over.

I'm in hell.

Oh, get out.

It's only disgust.

You haven't done anything
to be ashamed of.

You don't know
what hell's really like.

- I thought it was the
worst crime in the calendar.

The one subject absolutely
beyond the limit.

- Look, you've been thoroughly
decent from first to last.

So decent that I mistook
your friendliness.

I thought it was, something else.

I'm sorry to have insulted you.

- Durham, I love you,

in my very own way.

- Rubbish, as you so rightly said.

Good night.

- I do.

I think I have always.

- Look.

It's like the good,
blundering creature

that you are to try to comfort
me, but there are limits.

I'm thankful that it was
into your hands I fell.

Most men would have
reported me to the dean,

or the police.

- Damn you, Durham.

- Maurice.

I love you.

- I love you.

- Hall.

- It's the dean.

- Don't you have a lecture?

- I overslept!

- Hall! Stop when I
speak to you!

- Do you realize,

I would have gone
through life half-awake

if you'd had the decency
to leave me alone?

- Why me?

Perhaps we woke up each other.

- No.

- Can't you kiss me?

- I think, I think it would bring us,

I think it would bring us down.

I think it would spoil everything.

This harmony.

Body,

mind, soul.

I don't think women have even guessed.

But you know.

- Why did you not stop
when I called you?

Yesterday you cut chapel,
four lectures,

including my own translation class.

And, Hall, you've done
this sort of thing before.

It's unnecessary to add
impertinence, don't you think?

Very well.

I'm sending you down.

You will catch the 12 o'clock.

Unless you write me
a letter of apology,

I shall not recommend your readmission

to college in October.

- If it had been a girl
in the sidecar,

Cornwallis would never
have kicked up a stink.

Everyone cuts lectures.

I've done nothing wrong.

I refuse to say that I have.

- What'll you do?

- Go into the stock
market like Father did.

I don't need one of their
rotten degrees.

- You will come to Pendersleigh?

Bye!

Boo-hoo-hoo.

- Not quite
what you expected, eh?

- Dr. Barry, not quite as
anyone expected.

Still, these past few weeks,

it's become apparent to me that

it's time a man was here to
head this household again.

- Well, it's all for the best.

What do you want with a degree?

They were never meant
for the suburban classes.

I mean, you're not
going to become a parson

or a barrister or a
pedagogue, and you're not a,

you're not a country gentleman.

No, it's a sheer waste of time.

The city's your place.

Absolutely right to insult the dean.

- If anything,
I've been insulted by him.

Treated like a schoolboy.

- You see, your mother doesn't
understand how you feel.

She's worried because
you don't apologize.

To my mind, these things
work themselves out.

You see, you've got
yourself into an atmosphere

for which you were not suited,

and you very properly took
the first chance to get out.

- How do you mean?

- Oh, still not clear?

I mean that a gentleman would
have apologized by instinct

if he'd found that he'd
behaved as you did.

- I think it's time I turned in.

- How dare you bully
your mother, Maurice.

You ought to be horsewhipped.

Swaggering about instead of
begging her to forgive you.

She comes to me with tears in her eyes

and asks me to say something.

- But--

- Don't answer me, sir,
don't answer me.

I want none of your speech.

You're a disgrace to chivalry.

- Oh!

- I'm disappointed
and disgusted with you.

- Oh, Morrie darling,

we all looked forward
so much to May Week.

- Mother, do stop crying.

It'll only make him
think he's important.

He'll write to the dean as
soon as no one wants him to.

- Kitty, I won't.

- I don't see why you shouldn't.

- Little girls don't see a great deal.

- I see a great deal
more than some little boys

who think they're little men.

- Mrs. Sheepshanks.

- Oh, how very complimentary.

Thank you so much.

Skeggs, Olivia.

- Woolly, dear.

- I think everyone
should curtsy, don't you?

I've had such an interesting
talk with Mr. Hall.

And isn't Clive handsome?

- Mother, this is Maurice Hall.

- Welcome to Pendersleigh, Mr. Hall.

- How do you do?

- Woolly.

- Yes, it's so lovely
to see you.

- No, leave those, come on.

Oh, by the way,

if my mother or my sister ask you

to do this or that tomorrow,
don't worry.

Say yes if you want,
but you're actually

going to ride with me,
and they know it.

It's just their ritual.

- But I haven't brought
any riding breeches.

- Ah, well, I can't associate
with you in that case.

Deep breath.

- You must be Mr. Hall.

- I'm Pippa Durham, Clive's sister.

- Yes, he's--

- May I introduce Mr. London?

Mr. Hall.

- How do you do?

Archie London.

- How do you do?

- I'm the lucky devil
who's to marry her.

- I'm commandeering troops

for canvassing tomorrow,
tariff reform.

- Yes, stop bullying, Pippa.

- Are you interested?

- Certainly, I'd be delighted.

- Good, there, Mama.

Mr. Hall is sound.

- Pippa, dear, does
Mr. Hall know his room?

- The Blue Room, Mama.

- The Blue Room?

Poor man.

- The one with the smoking fireplace.

Simcox.

- Where'd you come from?

- The old schoolroom, our study.

That's why you've been put to stay

in this dog's misery.

Come.

It's as much like college
as I could make it.

Look at the view, though.

There, you may shoot rabbits
from this window.

- Oh, it is jolly for me, coming here.

- Well, this place will
never seem the same again.

I shall love it at last.

- Would there be anything else, sir?

No, thank you, Milly.

No, that's all.

We're up the staircase by ourselves.

We need never be in any
other part of the house,

apart from meals, that is.

I'll leave you to unpack.

See you down there.

- I hope you can find enough
to amuse yourself, Mr. Hall.

- So we dressed and came down

to find water lapping at
the foot of the staircase

and all the waiters wearing
green leather waders.

Yes, it was.

- This house is his.

Did he tell you?

- No, he didn't.

- Oh, it is.

Under my late husband's will.

I must move to the dower
house as soon as he marries.

A fourth year at Cambridge

would little profit
a yokel like Clive.

He must take his place
here in the countryside.

There's the game to consider.

There are the tenants.

There'll be his duties
as a magistrate.

And unless there's a war,
there's his political future.

He ought to spend the
year traveling instead.

He must see America and,
if possible, the colonies.

- He speaks of traveling.

He wants me to go with him.

- I trust you
will, but not Greece, Mr. Hall.

That is traveling for pleasure.

Dissuade him from Greece.

- I'd prefer America myself.

- Naturally, anyone sensible would.

Pippa says he writes verse.

Have you seen any?

Mr. Hall, is there someone?

Some, Newnham girl?

Pippa declares there is.

- Pippa had better ask, then.

- Did I hear my name, Mr. Hall?

- Hyah.

Damn, damn, it's locked.

The Goblin House.

My grandfather's grandfather built it.

I locked Pippa in here
for a whole day once

when we were small.

- Ashby's
Ordinaries are up an eighth.

Three and seven-eighths,
four and three-eighths.

- What's Barclay Perkins doing?

- Hmm, debit one, 87.90.

- Gas staged a recovery.

- What about Alliance and Dublin?

- Alliance and Dublin?

Consumers' orders?

- That'll do.

- Up two.

- Perhaps, dear Mrs. Hall,

when Clive has finally
completed, and, pray heaven,

passed his bar examinations,

would Ada not like to come down

and stay with us here at Pendersleigh?

I do declare that our sons
find amusement

in the friendship of our two families.

But Ada is such an attractive

and good-natured girl.

Although at present
Clive appears to regard

his Fridays to Mondays
entirely sacrosanct,

I'm sure that he, too,
could be enticed down.

I'm writing to Mrs. Hall.

I thought Ada might like to stay.

- Ada?

Isn't that the girl whose grandfather

is going to leave her a lot of money?

She'll make an excellent
bride for my godson.

- Really, perhaps Clive
doesn't want to marry yet.

- Oh, would you be so good
as to post this, uh...

What's your name?

- Scudder, ma'am.

- We are already snug

in our little house, Mrs. Durham,

now that Maurice is living
at home after so long away.

Each day, he eats a vast breakfast

and then catches the 8:36.

He returns at 4:59,
and lays down the law.

He has developed, under
your son's influence,

into far more of a personage
than we had expected.

One hardly begrudges him the time

he spends as Clive's guest in London.

Is Clive not fortunate to
have a London house now

as well as beautiful
Pendersleigh Park?

I do confess that I am looking forward

to meeting their amusing London set,

pictures of some of whom we see

in the illustrated newspapers

here at dull Alfriston Gardens.

- But I concentrated

on the tips of his mustache.

- Do you think I might have
one of your cigarettes?

- Do you not think
that Maurice's mustache

will be the making of him?

- No, it's revolting.

- Thank you, Clive.

- Your cavalrymen, see,
must have legs so straight

that they can hold a sixpence between

their legs all the way up,

ankles, calves, knees, thighs.

- Not only a sixpence,
is it, love?

- Ends have to meet.

- For the price of your beer,
no wonder.

- He'll never do it.

- Give the man his due.

- One here.

- One here.

One here.

The last sixpence there.

- Oh, he's always winning.

- Poor twink.

Well, I suppose it's pints
all around, gentlemen.

- Get him!

- Come on!

- Come here, you.

- Come along.

- Would you give me my hat?

I'm told that if I plead guilty,

the publicity can be kept
to a minimum.

So what am I to do?

- You must understand,

if I were to give you a testimonial,

it would make me a sitting
duck to any prosecution.

- Yes, I see that.

I realize it might
compromise your position

to be seen to be associated with me.

Quite understand that.

Good night, Clive.

- Good night.

Maurice.

- Oh, where on earth have you been?

Excuse me.

Thanks.

Where have you been?

You all right?

Clive?

- Yes, thank you, Maurice, I'm fine.

Please, don't nanny me.

- The defendant is a man of breeding

who, rather than setting an example,

has regrettably attempted

the corruption of his social inferior.

He is a man of considerable learning

who has taken advantage
of the gullibility

and the baser passions of
his intellectual inferior.

Lord Risley, your guilt
has been unquestionably

proven before this court.

As you are no doubt aware,

I am empowered to sentence you

to imprisonment with flogging.

However, in view of the
promising career in politics,

which has been terminated
by your disgrace,

and in view of the position

in society which you have forfeited,

I am inclined to leniency,
in sentencing you

to six months imprisonment
with hard labor.

Silence!

I am satisfied that you
will pay for this

for the rest of your life.

Take him down.

- All rise.

- A wit, a poet.

- Breeding.

- Breeding, and now, legal legislator.

- Legal legislator.

- Clive Durham, barrister-at-art.

- To Clive
Durham, our honored friend.

- Barrister-at-law.

- Mr. Durham.

- To the most marvelous evening.

- Come on,
Clive, on your feet, Clive!

- To the Durhams
of Pendersleigh Park.

- Oh, I say, I'm gonna faint.

- Mr. Durham!

Morrie, quickly.

- Clive.

Get a pillow.

Kitty, a pillow.

Ada, brandy.

Mother.

- What is it?

- Fan him.

- Oh, Morrie, what is it?

- Oh, fan, fan, fan, fan him.

- It's all right, silly to...

- Oh.

- Uh, all right, I'm all right.

- Certainly not, Maurice
is going to carry you.

Oh, oh, dear.

Um, Mr. Durham.

Mr. Durham, try and put
your arms around Morrie.

- Come along, old man, up you come.

- That's it.

That's it, Morrie.

- Come on.

Put your arm around me.

- Sorry.

- The doctor, somebody telephone.

- Sorry, Morrie.

I'm a fool.

- Oh, do be careful, Morrie.

It's rather hot.

- Mother, you needn't tell
the others I kissed Durham.

He wouldn't like it.

- No, of course not.

- I was upset and, and
did it without thinking.

As you know, we're great friends.

Relations almost.

- Mother, the doctor's here.

- Where shall I put
the hot-water bottle?

- You mustn't do this sort of thing.

You mustn't, it's filthy.

- Lt doesn't worry me.

I don't say this just to please you.

You can carry on all night
as far as I'm concerned.

Although the doctor's coming up.

- He'll see me like this.

- I hope he does.

Oh, hello, Jowitt.

Sorry to call you out so late.

I'm just curious, chap.

He, uh, he fainted at dinner,

and he can't stop crying.

- Been working hard?

- Yes, and now he
says he's going to Greece.

- So he shall.

You clear out now.

Told your sisters none of you
were to come into this room.

- My sisters, yes,
I'm looking after him.

- You equally.

Miss Kitty has telephoned to
the institute for a nurse.

- Why is everything done
in such a damned hurry?

- I thought a nurse might amuse him.

- Can't we amuse him?

I can nurse him myself.

- Oh, have you wheeling the baby next.

- Beg your pardon?

- I suppose I ought to have the nurse.

- Right.

She can make you more
comfortable than I can.

Pendersleigh today?

- Yes.

- Mother, he can hardly stand up.

What does Jowitt say?

- He seems to think
he's well enough to leave.

- Keep him there.

I'll get the 1:40.

Someone will have to
talk sense to you people.

Good-bye.

What?

- Shall I send the car?

- No, I'll get a cab from the station.

How much do I owe?

- Fourpence, governor.

- Thank you.

Thank you very, very
much for being so kind.

- Well, I hope you get better soon.

We've enjoyed having him
here, haven't we, Mother?

- What are you playing at, Clive?

You're far too ill to travel.

- I can't go on being such a
bore to your family, Maurice.

- Don't be absurd.

- Such good friends.

As he says, relations almost.

- Mother, Mother, get in.

- Good-bye, Mrs. Durham.

- Thank you so much.

- Good-bye, Mrs. Durham.

Don't let your coachman bump about.

- Bye-bye.

- Good-bye, and
don't forget his embrocation.

And fuller's earth, remember.

- I'll tell cook.

- Terrible affair about
Viscount Risley, sir.

And him a parliamentary
private secretary, too.

I did read he was at Cambridge.

Like yourself, sir.

- You will never mention
that subject again, Simcox,

while you remain in employment here.

I've become a barrister so
that I may enter public life.

But why should I enter public life?

Who wants me?

- Your mother says the country does.

- Well I've talked to more
people than my mother,

and I tell you no one wants us,

or anything really,
except a comfortable home.

- But to give people
a comfortable home

is what public life is for.

- ls or ought to be?

- Well, it's all the same.

- Well, "is" and "ought"
are not the same.

- Quite right, Mrs. Hall.

- You sound as if you have no use

whatsoever for Greece, Mr. Hall.

- Lt sounds out of repair.

A heap of old stones
without any paint on.

- We shall know what it is

if you fall over this time,
Mr. Durham.

- Your health, and the
health of all the ladies.

Maurice, come.

The ladies.

- Oh, the ladies.

- The ladies.

- Dear Clive,
still no word from you,

so here is my news.

I am practicing a regimen
of severe self-discipline.

Our Wednesdays and our weekends

I spend in the darkest
reaches of Bermondsey

with the dockers lads at the mission.

It's a far cry from our
metropolitan pleasures.

I am supposed to be teaching
them the gentle art of boxing.

More often than not,
I get the pummeling.

Preferable to the pummeling
you gave me

at the Wigmore Hall, ha, ha.

Most of the other evenings
I spend working

through that reading
list you once gave me.

Clive, I'm so worried
at not hearing from you.

I get no sleep worrying

for fear that you've fallen ill again.

I've looked out your connections

and would expect you back
by Tuesday week.

Wire, if you can, on reaching Dover.

I don't have to tell
you how much I miss you.

- Mr. Durham.

Oh, Maurice is away tonight
on business.

- Oh, no, where's he gone?

- Don't ask me.

We know even less about him than when

you were last here, if
you think that's possible.

He keeps everything so secret.

Mother, Ada,

Mr. Durham is back from Greece.

What was Greece like?

- Um, rather disappointing,
I'm afraid.

It's not exactly what
I'd expected it would be.

- Why didn't you let us know?

There'll be nothing but pie.

We would've given you
a real English dinner.

- Don't worry, I can't
stay to dinner anyway--

- No, Mr. Durham,
you must stop the night.

We've missed you,
haven't we, Ada, Kitty?

Maurice told us
you'd be back last week.

He was so disappointed.

- We can practice on you.

We've joined an ambulance class.

We need a victim to bandage up.

Lt was Dr. Barry's idea.

He says there's going
to be a war soon.

- You sound just like Maurice.

Your voices are wonderfully alike.

- It's 'cause I have a cold.

- No, you are alike, you
do have the same voice.

And nose, and by that, of course,

I mean the mouth, too.

And also his good spirits
and good health.

Kitty, on the other hand,
has his brains.

- Ow, that really hurts!

- Ow, ow.

- Yeah, well, it's my hair.

That's very good, Kitty.

Thank you.

These are excellent,
I feel so much better.

If you knew what it was
to be in England.

- ls Greece not nice?

- Horrible.

- Maurice said you'd like Greece.

- Maurice doesn't know.

- I'm happy you're back.

- Maurice is home.

- Clive.

Come out of all that, Clive.

Why did you let them?

I say he looks well.

You look well.

Come and have a drink.

I'll unpick you.

No, girls, not you.

Why didn't you answer my letters?

Don't you love me anymore?

- All that must be tomorrow.

- Quite so.

Have a drink.

- Maurice, I don't want a row.

- I do, I want a row,
and I'll have it.

Why didn't you write?

What secrets are you keeping from me?

- I was trying to work things out,

and I couldn't explain in a letter.

- One oughtn't to have
secrets, or they get worse.

One ought to talk.

- No, thank you.

Talk, talk, talk.

Provided one has someone to talk to.

As you and I have.

- I've thought about this solidly

for the last month and a half.

We've got to change, you and I.

- Can the leopard change his spots?

Clive, you're in a muddle.

What is it you're afraid to tell me?

Surely we've got past
sparing each other.

You can't trust anyone else.

You and I are outlaws.

All this will be taken away
from us if people knew.

- Precisely.

By continuing like this,

you and I are risking
everything we have.

Our careers, our,
our families, our names.

- Balls!

I don't give a damn about name.

What sort of a life
would I have without you?

I risk everything, and gladly,

because the one thing
I dread losing is you.

You're the only happiness
there is for me.

- There are other ways
to be happy, you know.

We could explore those a little.

- Not for me.

- Maurice, think how
easy life is for people

who don't have to go through all this.

This secrecy.

Never being able to talk
about the person

whom you're in love with to anybody.

Imagining the servants
are thinking things.

And always being asked
when you're gonna

get married, and having
every bloody girl

paraded in front of you

'cause your family's so desperate.

- You want to
get married, is that it?

You're in love with some girl?

Who is it?

- No one.

But don't you think
it would be wonderful

if there, if there was someone

who I could care about in the same way

that I do about you?

- We love each other, and know it.

- For God's sake, Maurice,

hold your tongue for a moment.

If I were in love with anyone now,

then it would be with some nice girl.

Like Ada.

- Ada?

- I take her
at random as an example.

- You scarcely know Ada.

- Don't be so stupid.

Try to understand.

We must change.

I like you enormously.

More, more than any man I've ever met.

- Did you say something to
Ada just before I came in?

Didn't you hear my car come up?

Why did Kitty and my mother
come out and,

and not you and Ada?

- Look, I really can't be
cross-examined about your sister.

- Why not?

- You must shut up and
concentrate, Maurice.

- Ada.

- What for?

- Ada.

- Maurice, no,
it mustn't end in a row.

- Ada, Ada.

- No, you can't drag in
a woman, I won't have it.

- Give me the key!

- Leave it!

Maurice, don't make it worse.

- I didn't mean to.

Did I hurt you?

- I'm all right.

- What an ending.

What an ending!

Maurice?

- What's gonna happen to me?

I'm done for.

- Maurice?

Clive, what's the matter?

- Ada.

Nothing, it's fine.

- What's happened to your lip?

- It's perfectly all right.

Just fooling about.

Maurice?

Don't be an ass.

Yes, he's, he's fine.

- What's the matter with you?

- Nothing.

- Yes, there is, I can see it.

You can't take me in.

- No, really, Maurice.

It's, it's nothing.

- Why,

what did he say?

- Nothing.

- Who said nothing?

- Clive, he said nothing.

- Clive, is it?

What is Mr. Durham to you?

Answer.

Do you want to know what
he told me just now,

when I accused him
of making love to you

behind all our backs?

- What?

- When I hit him?

- No, Maurice.

- He said that you, he said
you threw yourself at him.

- No.

- That you, you tried to corrupt him.

He complained that you,
you made advances to him.

And that, that's why he wouldn't stay.

That's why he's gone back to town.

You, you have the satisfaction of

breaking up our friendship at least.

- You've always been unkind to us.

Always.

- It's, it's not my fault.

Lt isn't.

- Stop, remember, step back.

That's it.

- That's good of you, sir.

There ain't many city gents
that'd give up their Saturdays.

Good night, sir.

- Oh, good night, Mr. Hall, sir.

- Children, Clive Durham
is engaged to be married.

How friendly of his mother to tell me.

- Who is she?

- Lady Anne Woods.

You can read it for yourself later.

He met her in Greece.

"Lady Anne Woods,
daughter of Sir H. Woods."

- Oh, Mother, you got it wrong.

What Mrs. Durham wrote is

"I will now tell you the name
of the lady,

"Anne Woods,
daughter of Sir H. Woods."

- Do you know her, Maurice?

- Oh, yes.

- Mr. Chapman, Miss Hall.

- Thank you.

- Ada.

Ada, I behaved badly to you
after Clive's last visit.

He, he never said those things

I let you think he said.

He never blamed you.

- I don't care whether he did.

Lt doesn't signify, I love Arthur now.

- Chapman's a good fellow.

For two people in love, to
marry strikes me as very jolly.

I wish you happiness.

- Hello.

- Mr. Hall, please.

- Hall, Hall, for you.

- Argentine Northern Land,
gone up again.

- Hmm, up six.

- Hello.

- Hello, Maurice.

You'll have heard my news.

- Yes, but you didn't write,
so I didn't.

- Quite so.

Well, the wedding's next month.

You'll be an usher?

- Best of luck.

- Anne's with me.

She wants to talk, too.

- I'm Anne Woods.

- My name's Hall.

Maurice Christopher Hall.

- Mine's Anne Clare Wilbraham Woods.

But I can't think of anything to say.

You're the eighth friend of Clive's

I've spoken to this morning like this.

- Eighth?

- Yes, the eighth.

I'll give Clive a turn, good-bye.

- Maurice,
Anne has a hundred pounds

in her pocket, would
you invest it for her?

- Certainly, what sort of thing?

- Whatever you fancy.

- I'm not supposed to fancy
more than four percent.

- Barclay Perkins.

Brewing and distillers.

They're at five percent.

Or there's Argentine Northern Land.

They've gone up a sixth,
land investments.

How about--

- I like the last one best.

- Very well.

Send the check here, would you?

- Can't you come
down to Pendersleigh next week?

It's short notice, I know,

but later everything's
gonna be chaotic.

- I'm afraid I can't do that very well.

Hill's getting married, too.

Things are more or less busy here.

And after that,
Chapman's marrying Ada.

- Well, uh, come in September.

Not October, because that's almost

certainly the by-election.

But come in September
and see us through

that awful Park versus
Village cricket match.

- All right.

You'd better write nearer the time.

- All right.

Goodbye, then, Maurice.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

- I mean, I haven't even
got a consulting room.

- It's an illness too
awfully intimate for Jowitt.

You're the only doctor alive
I dare tell.

- A secret trouble, eh?

Yeah, right, well, excuse me, my dear.

Won't be a moment.

Come along, then.

Now, now, now take your time.

And remember, of course,
that this is professional.

Nothing you say will ever
reach your mother's ears.

- It's about women.

- Well, we'll soon fix that up.

- Fix me, for God's sake.

I'm done for.

- Now don't be afraid of me.

Now, when did you catch
the beastly thing?

- It's nothing as filthy as that.

Ln my own wrong way
I've kept myself clean.

- Oh, well, um, let's have a look.

- ls that
you in there, Dr. Barry?

- It's all right, Ettie.

I'm in here.

You're all right.

- What do you mean, sir,
by "all right"?

- Well, what I say.

You're a clean man.

Nothing wrong with you down there.

You could marry tomorrow if you like.

If you'll take an old
man's advice, you will.

So cover up now.

It's so, so drafty.

What put all this
into your head?

- You've never guessed.

I'm like Lord Risley.

I'm an unspeakable.

The Oscar Wilde sort.

- Rubbish, rubbish.

- Dr. Barry, I can't have explained.

- Now listen to me, Maurice.

Never let that evil hallucination,

that temptation from the
devil, occur to you again.

I mean, who put that lie
into your head?

You, whom I see and know
to be a decent fellow.

- Dr. Barry, I want--

No, sir, I'll not discuss!

The worst thing I could
do for you is to discuss.

- It's not rubbish to me.

- Rubbish!

- I've been like this
ever since I can remember,

without knowing why.

Am I diseased?

If I am, I want to be cured.

- Find yourself a pretty young woman.

She'll soon cure you.

It's unspeakable.

Come, dress yourself.

- Oh, yes, I'm sorry.

Of course.

- Ettie, whiskey.

- Mine.

- Sir.

- Bull's-eye, one less bunny wunny

for Durham to lose sleep over.

What?

Oh, buck up, man.

Corpore sano.

Look out, mine!

Damn!

- Will you gentlemen wish
to continue shooting?

The mist's coming down.

- I suppose he thinks it's our fault.

Very well, Scudder.

We may as well pack it in.

You'll bring the game
book up to the house.

Oh, cheer up, old man.

What has got into you?

- Would you believe it's my birthday?

- Good Lord, is it really?

I say, old man, many happy returns.

Durham never mentioned it at all.

- Durham's far too busy canvassing.

Come on.

Let's toast it in chiskey.

- That's more like it.

- Telegram arrived for you
at midday, sir.

- Oh, thank you, Simcox.

- There, you see?

Durham did remember your birthday.

- Shall we have that drink?

- Mm, two large chiskeys, Simcox.

- Very good, sir.

- I think I may have to go
to town with you tomorrow.

- Hall, old fellow, what a pity.

You might have had more shooting.

Nothing wrong, is there?

- No, have business.

- Happy birthday, sir.

- Hello, did you have
a good day shooting?

- Frightful.

- It's awfully rude of Clive
to have been here so little,

but he's working so hard.

And I do think it'll be a good idea

for the poor if he does get in, don't you?

He's their best friend,
if only they knew it.

- You can't worry too much
about the poor.

One must give them a leg up,

for the sake of the country,

but they don't suffer as
we should in their place.

- I see we're in the hands of
the right sort of stockbroker.

Oh, here's the Reverend Borenius.

He's joining us for
dinner, do you know him?

He's come to scold Clive
about the tenants' housing.

Now, he would say that they want love.

- No doubt they do,
but they won't get it.

- Mr. Hall.

I scold Clive for being cynical,

but really, I think
you're being horrible.

- I get used to being horrible.

The poor get used to their slums.

After you've banged about a bit,

you get used to your particular hole.

Everyone yaps at first.

I've had a telegram.

I've got to go back up
to town tomorrow.

- Oh, no, not bad news I hope.

- No.

- Well, in that case, it
must be an amorous intrigue.

Maurice has to go back
to London tomorrow.

- What?

- Well, that's what he told me.

- But damn it,
he's only just arrived.

- He had a telegram.

He's being awfully secretive.

- He's being impossible.

What about the cricket?

- I rather like him.

I have a private notion he's in love.

I think he has a little girl
up in London.

- Your hand, Pippa.

- Darling--

- It's all right, Archie, I'll manage.

Mr. Borenius, your turn.

- Oh, forgive me.

- The family ghost again.

- There's
the sweetest little hole

in the ceiling, Clive,
can't we leave it?

- Well, we shall have to,

but let's move the pianoforte
because I don't think

it's going to stand much more.

- How about a saucer?

Clive, how about a saucer?

Once the rain came through
the ceiling of the club.

I rang the bell and the
servant brought a saucer.

- I ring the bell and the
servant brings me nothing.

- Hmm.

- I knew this beastly
present would come in useful.

- Poor Pendersleigh.

- Milly, bring a basin
will you, and a duster,

and get one of the men
to help shift the piano.

The rain's come through again.

- We had to ring twice, twice.

- It's got right
under the sounding board,

I'm afraid.

- Can't make it sound any worse

than it already does.

- Shall I place this lamp here?

- Ah, Scudder.

Shift the piano, would you,

and, um, take up the carpet.

Tomorrow you'd better go up
and attack that roof again.

Well, there we are, everybody.

Perhaps we'd better turn
in, leave them to it.

- Before we get carried
away on the flood tide.

- Pippa, tell Simcox to bring
up my nightcap, will you?

- The cellar will be awash by now.

Why is my house falling down?

Anne.

Maurice, are you coming up?

- A saucer
would have done the job.

- How very kind of you.

- Down, down there a bit.

Little bit more.

More, bit more.

Down, down.

Someone will have to get up
in the night, change the bowl.

- As soon as my body developed,

the obscene imaginings began.

I thought that some individual
curse had descended on me.

My schooling was pure enough.

A terrific scandal there
before my arrival

meant that we were drilled all day,

and policed all night.

I had little chance, therefore,

to talk about such experiences
with my school fellows.

I am the only son in my fam--

- Oh, Maurice,

I am glad.

Well, it's the greatest thing
on earth.

Perhaps the only one.

Anne guessed as much.

Aren't women extraordinary?

Oh, Maurice, it's what
I've always wished for you.

- I know you have.

- You don't mind if I tell her?

Only Anne, of course.

- Not a bit, tell everyone.

- You don't mind?

- No.

- I just wanted to show that,
I hadn't forgotten the past.

But I agree.

Let's not mention it again.

- All right.

- Aren't you glad
it's all ended properly?

- How properly?

- Well, instead of that
muddle last year.

- With you.

- Quits, and I'll go.

Come back here as soon
as you can, won't you?

- Clive?

- I've been talking to Maurice.

You were right.

- Told you he had something
up his sleeve.

- Make sure the
tarpaulin covers the cover.

Pull it down.

- I think he's after a tip.

- Tell him to boil his head.

- I offered him five shillings,

but he wouldn't take it, damn cheek.

- Best of luck.

I'm so glad you're not
really horrible.

- Are you?

- Good-bye, dear Maurice.

- Good-bye.

You gave him more, I suppose.

Five shillings not good enough?

You'll only take gold?

- I'll take it.

- Clive.

- You're coming back very soon.

Good luck.

- Thanks, old man.

- Cheerio, old man.

- Archie, good-bye.

- Good-bye.

- Thank you, Simcox.

- Good-bye.

- Bye, Maurice.

- Good-Bye.

See you soon.

- Bye, Maurice.

- Good-Bye.

I do wish I knew the girl's name.

- You're not quite off yet, I think.

- No, I'm not.

I'm nearer off now.

- Hmm.

How do you like my consulting room?

- It's a nice room.

- Not too dark.

- Rather dark.

- You can see the picture
on the wall ahead of you?

Come nearer, Mr. Hall.

Take care of that crack
in the carpet, though.

- How broad is the crack?

- You can jump it.

Admirable.

Now, what do you suppose
this picture is of?

Whom is it of?

Lt is, Miss Edna May.

- I want to go home to my mother.

- Miss Edna May is beautiful.

She is attractive.

- She's not attractive to me.

- What an ungallant remark.

Oh...

Mr. Hall.

Look at her lovely hair.

- I like short hair best.

- Why?

- Because...

Because...

Did it get anywhere near?

- You're open to suggestion.

I made you see a picture
on the bare wall.

- I'd, I'd like another appointment.

- Telephone me in two weeks.

Ln the meantime, uh, take
exercise in moderation.

A little tennis,
stroll around with a gun.

Go back to the country.

- Lt, it seems rather foolish

to make that journey twice in one day.

- Hey old fellow.

Good Lord, you did rush
back, what a shame.

We're just off
electioneering overnight.

I'm sorry, I, I had no idea.

- But I understood distinctly from you

that all your servants
had been confirmed.

- I thought so.

I did think so, Mr. Borenius.

- The trouble is, Mrs. Durham,

that even if the bishop
can be prevailed upon,

I have not time to prepare
him before he sails.

- Mr. Hall.

- Ah, Mr. Hall.

- Simcox informed us
that you'd returned.

You're in time for dinner.

Did you have a successful trip?

- That remains to be seen.

- Dinner jacket's enough tonight.

I'm afraid we're only three.

- Pardon me, sir.

Um, will the gentleman
be shooting tomorrow?

- I don't think so.

Obviously not, it's the cricket match.

I'm sure, sir,
I'm very sorry if I failed

to give you and Mr. London
full satisfaction, sir.

- That's all right, Scudder.

- Glad to see you
down again so soon, sir.

- That's all right, Scudder.

- The way that Scudder
sprang his notice on Clive.

His brother has found him
a job in the Argentine.

His brother has got him
the fare, so off he goes.

- Excuse me, sir.

The underkeeper wonders
whether you have orders.

- I saw him before dinner, Simcox.

Nothing, thanks.

Tomorrow's the match.

I did tell him.

- He wonders whether
the gentleman wished

to bathe between innings, sir.

He's just bailed out the boat.

- If that's Scudder, will
you tell him I'll come

and speak to him directly?

- Very good, sir.

- Good night, sir.

- Oh, Scudder.

Good night.

They tell me you're emigrating.

- That's my idea, sir.

- Well, good luck to you.

- Thank you, sir.

Seems rather strange.

- The Argentine, I understand.

- That's right, sir.

Have you ever
visited it yourself, sir?

- No.

No, England for me.

- Night, sir.

- Good night.

- I'm off, then.

An easy start tomorrow.

Only Mr. Hall's pleasure to wait upon.

- Mr. Hall's a gentleman.

Was that you calling to me, sir?

I know, sir.

It's all right, I know, sir.

Come on,

lie down.

Sir, the church has struck.

You'll have to release me.

- Maurice.

Maurice.

- There's the cricket
pitch I have to help roll

for the match,
and the young birds, too.

The boat's done.

Mr. London dived splack
into the water lilies.

They told me that all young
gentlemen learn to dive.

Well, I never learned to.

Lt seems more natural-like

not to let your head
get under the water.

I call that drowning before your day.

- I was taught I'd be ill
if I didn't get my hair wet.

- Well, you was taught
what wasn't the case.

- Alec,

did you ever dream you had a friend,

someone to last your whole life?

- Nice day, sir.

Nice day for the match.

Ah, he moved that ladder
away at last, I see.

About time.

Now, sir...

what will you wear, I wonder?

Will you put your cricketing
flannels on straightaway?

- All right.

- Oh, sir, in, uh,
Mr. Durham's absence,

the servants feel
we should be so honored

if you would captain us for the match.

- I'm no cricketer, Simcox.

Who's your best bat?

- We have none better than
the under gamekeeper, sir.

Scudder, sir.

- Well, then make Scudder captain.

- Pity, sir.

Things always go better
with a gentleman captain.

- Tell him to put me to field deep.

And I won't bat first.

Bat eighth if he likes.

You might tell him, as I
shan't be down till it's time.

- Very good, sir.

Oh, dear, sir.

Mud on the carpet.

I'll send someone up.

Very good, sir.

- The captain's put
himself in to bat first.

Clive Durham would never
ave done that.

- Little points interest me.

- He's our best man, apparently.

- I've an instinct
the man's conceited.

- He's lasted very well.

He's playing more carefully this year.

- Run!

- Run hard, Roger!

- Throw it to the bowler's end.

- They're going two.

- That's me.

Man in.

- Go for it.

Jolly well done!

Marvelous!

Well done.

- After it, Graham!

- Chase hard.

- Get it in hard.

Quick, they're going three,

they're going three, chase hard.

- I do begin to see what you mean.

- Well, with a haircut.

- Go chase it, boy.

- Wonderful!

Keep it up.

- Jolly well done, Hall!

- Bravo, bravo, well done.

- Scudder's holding the fort for you.

He's doing rather well.

- Well, I suppose I'd
better play for a bit,

please these people.

- Over.

- Simon.

Andrew, down to point.

- Clive.

- Maurice.

- Aren't you exhausted?

- Well, I've had
meetings till midnight.

I've got another this afternoon.

But I'm back tonight, and then
your visit really does begin.

- Now, gentlemen.

- We stand rebuked.

To the Olympic Games, Maurice.

Yes.

- Take him, Simon!

- No, wait, sorry, Maurice, sorry.

- Get it in, Andy.!

- Sorry.

- Well played, Mr. Hall.

- Thank you.

Ah, thank you, Simcox.

- I know, sir.

It's all right.

I know, sir.

Come on.

- What sort of man was that keeper

of yours who captained us?

- Scudder?

Well, he's a little bit smart,

but Anne would say I'm being unfair.

You can't expect our standard
of honesty in servants.

- What sort of background did he have?

- Let's see, um, wasn't his
father the butcher at Osmington?

Yes, I think so.

Is your head feeling rotten again?

- Putrid.

- I do wish you'd think of
Pendersleigh as your second home.

Just treat it like an hotel.

Come and go when you like.

Doesn't matter if I'm home or not.

Anne feels as I do.

- Pretend to the other gentlemen
that you want a stroll.

It's easily managed.

Then come down to the boathouse.

Dear sir, let me share with you once

before leaving old England.

It's not asking too much.

- You should not resist me.

You're resisting me.

- Damn it, I'm not.

- You're less suggestible
than you were.

- Don't give up.

- I do not propose
to give up, Mr. Hall.

- Have I fallen short of your 50%?

- I needn't remind you that your sort

were once put to death in England.

I would advise you to
live in some country,

France, Italy, where homosexuality
is no longer criminal.

- Will it ever be like that
in England?

- England has always been disinclined

to accept human nature.

- I have not told you the whole truth.

- No, Mr. Hall?

- Since I was here, I

went wrong, with the gamekeeper.

I'm terrified he may blackmail me.

Apparently, he's quite
smart enough to do so.

I have an idea
that's what's stopping me

from going into a trance.

He sent me a letter, you see.

Read it.

- "Come to the boathouse.

"I have key and will let you in."

- No doubt he has a duplicate key,

and an accomplice
waiting up at the house.

- "I, since cricket match, do long to place

"both arms around you
and share with you.

"The above now seems sweeter
than words can say.

"Mind and write if you don't come,

"for I get no sleep waiting.

"So come without fail to boathouse,

"Pendersleigh, tomorrow night.

"Yours respectfully, Alec Scudder,

"Gamekeeper to...

"C. Durham, Esquire."

- I'm walking on a volcano.

He's an uneducated man, but
he's got me in his power.

Will he have a case in
court, do you think?

- I'm no lawyer, Mr. Hall.

You'd have to consult your solicitor.

My children playing overhead.

- How did a country lad
like that know?

Why did he come to me that one night

when I was at my weakest?

- There we are, sir.

- Just a moment.

Uh, ticket, please, ticket.

- Maurice.

- What, uh, what brings
you to London, Scudder?

- My, um, brother and I
have, um, some business here.

You ought to know what it is.

- I'll be with you in a few minutes.

Let me just have a word
with Scudder here.

Something's up at the mission.

- Scudder, is it?

"Alec, you're a dear fellow,"
you said.

You did.

What mission?

What, you ashamed to be seen with me?

Hmm, you're not glad anyway.

Don't say you are.

- Of course I'm glad.

- Then why didn't you
come to the boathouse?

I waited two nights.

I got no sleep waiting.

- Shh!

- I know something.

- I'm sure you do.

I'm sure you could tell me
a good many things, Alec.

- I know about you and Mr. Durham.

This is your office, is it?

What do you do here?

You shouldn't treat me like a dog.

You was just amusing yourself.

I've never come like that
to a gentleman before.

You said, "Call me Maurice,"

but you never even wrote to me.

You made a fool of me, and
I can make you sorry for it.

He's big enough, isn't he?

Well, they must've owned
wonderful machinery

to make a thing like that.

- I expect so.

Mine's got five legs.

- So has mine.

It's a peculiar notion,
when you think about it.

Lt won't do, Mr. Hall.

I know what you're trying to do.

You'd do better to settle
this, I can tell you.

You've had your fun.

Now you've gotta pay up.

I'll leave you to think it over.

- Surely, surely you're an old
boy at Mr. Abrahams's school.

Now, now, don't,
don't tell me your name.

I, I, I want to remember.

I shall remember.

Um, you're not Colgan.

You're not Smith, I know.

You're, you're Wimbleby, yes?

- My name's Scudder.

- Isn't, I'm Mr. Scudder.

And I've got a serious charge

to bring against this gentleman.

- Yes, awfully serious.

- My goodness me.

I am really most,
most frightfully sorry.

I, I, I do beg your pardon.

It's seldom I make a mistake.

Well, remarkable place,
this, isn't it?

Not just a collection of relics.

It's a place which could
stimulate the minds of the--

- Less fortunate?

- Well, quite so.

To ask questions which one,

which one no doubt
inadequately tries to--

- Ben, we're waiting.

- Oh uh, yes, quite so.

I, uh, I, I, excuse me.

Extraordinary thing.

- I shan't trouble you any further.

- Where are you going
with your serious charge?

- I don't know what came over me.

- You blackmailed me.

- No, sir, no

- You didn't?

- Maurice, listen.

- Maurice am I?

- Well, you called me Alec.

I'm as good as you.

- I don't find you are.

By God, if you'd split on me to Ducie,

I'd have broken you.

Might have cost me
hundreds, but I've got them.

But the police always back
my sort against yours.

As good as I?

Come outside.

- Lt rained even harder
than this at the boathouse.

Lt was even colder.

Why did you not come?

- I was frightened.

And you let yourself get afraid of me.

That's why we're trying
to down each other.

- I wouldn't take a penny from you.

I don't want to hurt
your little finger.

Come on.

Let's give over talking, here.

Stop with me.

Sleep the night with me.

- I, I can't.

I've got an engagement.

A formal business dinner.

It's my job.

Meet me another evening instead.

- I can't come to London again.

My father or Mr. Borenius
will be passing remarks.

- What does it matter if they do?

- What does your engagement matter?

First time I seed you, I thought,

"I wish I had that one."

And it is so.

The only good thing to
happen to me at Pendersleigh.

"Scudder, do this.

"Scudder, do that."

The old lady, she says,

"Oh, would you most kindly

"of your goodness post this for me.

"What's your name?

"What's your name?"

Every day for bloody 18 months

I went to that front porch for orders

and the old bitch doesn't
even know my name.

I said to her, "What's your name?

"Fuck your name!"

Nearly did, too.

Wish I had.

And you, too grand to
come to the boathouse.

"Haw, my man.

"Five shillings not good
enough for you, eh?"

You've no idea how you
nearly missed gettin' me.

Boathouse was the place
I always fancied.

I still got the key now,
matter of fact.

- We'll meet in your boathouse yet.

- No, we won't.

You'll remember that at any rate.

Tomorrow's Thursday.

Friday's packing.

Saturday, Southampton, so
it's good-bye, old England.

- You mean that you and I
shan't meet again after now?

- That's right.

You got it quite correct.

- Stay with me.

- Stay, miss my boat?

You daft?

Of all the bloody rubbish.

Order me about again, you would.

- It's a chance in a thousand we met.

You know it.

Why don't you stay?

- Stay, with you?

How, and where?

With your ma?

Oh, yeah.

What would she say if she saw me?

All rough and ugly the way I am.

My people wouldn't take
to you one bit.

And I don't blame them either.

And how would you run your job,

I'd like to know?

- I shall chuck it.

- Your job in the city, what
gives you money and position?

You talk like a man who's
never had to earn his living.

- You can do anything,
once you know what it is.

We can live without money,
without people.

We can live without position.

We're not fools.

We're both strong.

There'll be someplace we could go.

- Wouldn't work, Maurice.

Be the ruin of us both.

Can't you see?

Well, I'm off.

Pity we ever met, really,
if you think about it.

You paid for this room
in advance, didn't you?

I mean, they won't stop
me downstairs or anything?

- You'll be all right.

Edgar, I shan't be long.

Just wait for me.

- Yes, sir.

- Good afternoon.

- Oh, yes, um, I've come
to see a passenger off.

Alec Scudder.

- Ah, the Scudders.

Yes, I believe they're up there, sir.

- Right, thank you.

- Thank you very much, sir.

- Plenty of time yet.

- Oh, he won't be late.

If Alec says a thing, he means it.

- He can be late if he likes.

I can manage without him,

but he needn't expect
me to help him anymore.

- Mr. Scudder?

You must be Alec Scudder's brother.

I've come to see him off.

- Alec ain't aboard yet,
but his kit is.

Interested to see his kit?

- No, no, no, don't worry.

I'll just wait with you, if I may.

My name's Maurice Hall.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Hall.

Now, this is kind of you, Mr. Hall.

I could hardly believe my eyes

when I saw you among his friends here.

- Family, my parents.

And I'm his brother,
Frederick Scudder,

purveyor of viand, at your service.

- Ah, I am Mr. Borenius.

Alec is one of my parishioners.

I've come to give him a
letter of introduction

to an Anglican priest in Buenos Aires,

in the hopes that he will
be confirmed after landing.

- Very kind of you, sir, I'm sure.

- How did you know so
precisely when the boat sailed?

- Lt was advertised.

- All aboard now.

- May I speak frankly to you?

I'm far from easy about Scudder.

The fact is, he has been
guilty of sensuality

with women.

It's not just the deed of fornication.

When the nations went a-whoring,

they invariably ended up
by denying God.

Until all sexual irregularities,

and not some of them, are penal,

the church will never
again reconquer England.

I have reason to believe,

Scudder spent Tuesday night in London,

fornicating.

I'm telling you all this

because of your charitable
interest in him.

But surely he wouldn't
have missed his train.

Well, they wouldn't leave without him.

- He's bloody well missed
his bleeding train!

- Gentlemen!

Gentlemen.

Gentlemen, I do assure you,

Mr. Scudder was booked for a passage.

- But his kit's aboard.

His kit's aboard.

- Clive.

Don't tell Anne I'm here.

I've only a few minutes.

- I mean, look here,
man, that's fantastic.

She'll be furious if you
don't stay the night.

Maurice, I hope nothing's wrong.

- Pretty well everything.

You'd think so.

- Very well, I'm at your service.

My advice, though, is
to sleep here tonight

and ask Anne in the morning.

Where a woman is in question,

it's always better to ask
another woman,

and particularly if she has
Anne's almost uncanny insight.

- I'm not here to see Anne.

Or you, Clive.

It's miles worse for you.

I'm in love with Alec Scudder.

- What a grotesque announcement.

- Most grotesque.

But I felt I ought to tell you.

- Maurice,

Maurice, we did everything we could

when you and I
thrashed out the subject.

- When you brought
yourself to kiss my hand.

- Don't allude to that.

Come in here.

I'm more sorry for you
than I can possibly say.

And I do, do beg you to resist
the return of this obsession.

- I don't need advice.

I'm flesh and blood, Clive,

if you'll condescend
to such low things.

I've shared with Alec.

- Shared, shared what?

- Everything.

Alec slept with me in the Russet Room,

when you and Anne were away.

- Oh, good God.

- Also in town.

- The sole excuse for
any relationship between

two men is that it remain
purely platonic.

Surely we agreed that.

- I don't know.

I've come to tell you what I did.

- Well, Alec, Scudder,
is in point of fact

no longer in my service.

Ln fact, he's no longer in England.

He sailed for Buenos Aires
this very day.

- He didn't.

He sacrificed his career for
my sake, without a guarantee.

I don't know whether that's
platonic of him or not,

but it's what he did.

- Scudder missed his boat?

Maurice, you're going mad.

May I ask if you intend to pursue--

- No, no, you may not ask.

I'll tell you everything up to this minute.

Not a word beyond.

Alec?

Alec.

- So you got the wire, then?

- What wire?

- The wire I sent to your house,

telling you...

Oh, sorry.

I'm a bit tired, what with
one thing and another.

No, telling you to come here,

to the boathouse at
Pendersleigh without fail.

Now we shan't never be parted.

It's finished.

- Will that be all, sir?

- Yes, thank you, Simcox.

- Good night, sir.

- Good night.

- Come on!

- Who were you talking to?

- No one, no one.

I was just trying out a speech.