Original subtitles

From the raw Australia of the 1900s...

comes a turbulent saga that spans the decades...

in Colleen McCullough's best-selling novel.

The Thorn Birds.

I'll never have what I want.

The story of a priest driven by ambition.

Never be what I want!

Tormented by desire.

And I don't know how to stop...

wanting.

And a beautiful young girl obsessed with a man she could never have.

You can marry me. You Iove me.

But I Iove God more.

It's Mrs. Carson, Father. She's dead.

ProbabIy did herseIf in.

UnIess it was the deviI doing us all a favor.

''...Father RaIph de Bricassart...

''serve as the chief authority in charge of my estate.''

$13 million of it.

Go on to that God of yours.

You'll come back to me because I'm the one who Ioves you.

And tonight, the story continues.

Fire. Fire on Drogheda.

You've come back.

What have you done to me?

All right, Iads!

God, you are beautifuI.

HeIp me get free of this.

Starring Richard Kiley, Jean Simmons, Ken Howard, Mare Winningham...

Philip Anglim, Christopher Plummer, Bryan Brown...

Rachel Ward, and Richard Chamberlain.

A love unattainable...

forbidden forever. The Thorn Birds.

Vittorio Scarbanza di Contini-Verchese.

Excellent. I'm very happy.

So few outside the Vatican can pronounce my name

Will you take tea, Father?

Will you take tea, Father?

I confess I have adopted the custom.

I beIieve you've been in Sydney for some time, Archbishop?

Yes, as a papaI Iegate...

it is my task to provide a Iink...

between the AustraIian church hierarchy and the Vatican.

A rich country, AustraIia.

She supports the Church well despite the Depression.

One day...

the HoIy Father will have to reward her...

by seIecting an AustraIian cardinaI.

No doubt that will be many years away.

Still, it is a very important part of my job to study IikeIy men...

of your age.

Oh, Sheba, must you be so seIfish. You make my Iegs numb.

De Bricassart....

I'm descended from RanuIf de Bricassart...

who came to EngIand with William the Conqueror.

Since Henry VllI's time, the famiIy has fallen into obscurity.

In fact, I'm the Iast of the de Bricassarts.

But you yourseIf appear to have found ways...

of deaIing with obscurity.

-Your Grace? -I refer to your penchant...

for attracting the notice of the HoIy Father.

The Carson bequest.

Rather an achievement.

Mrs. Carson was aIso faithfuI to the Church.

Quite.

Sheba, must you aIways dig in your cIaws when you're happy?

How do you do that?

A cat will never go to anyone, especially Sheba.

Yet she goes to you as if you gave her caviar!

So, you will administer the Carson estate.

Given the current economic conditions...

I suppose we must expect some Iosses.

No. I've just been over everything with the auditors...

and I think the investments will hoId firm.

I'm sure the CIearys will continue to manage Drogheda...

as if it were their own.

-You're fond of these CIearys. -Yes, very.

Do you Iove them all equally...

or do you Iove some more than others?

I feeI cIosest to the girI, Meggie.

I've watched her grow up...

and I've aIways feIt that she was my speciaI responsibiIity.

She's the onIy daughter and the parents sometimes tend to forget she exists.

I see.

Meggie!

-What on earth are you doing? -Managing the stock horses.

Are you now? And who decided that, may I ask?

I did, since nobody eIse seemed to have pIans for me.

I see.

I don't know if I can think of anything wrong with that.

I don't know if I can think of anything wrong with that.

If you're going to manage stock horses...

I don't beIieve I'd use a thoroughbred to do it.

He needs the exercise, Daddy. You wouIdn't want Father RaIph...

to come back and find his horse fat and out of shape.

Father RaIph?

I don't think you'll be seeing him again.

No, Drogheda's part of his past now.

Meggie, you've kept your secret pretty well.

I doubt if anyone eIse knows how you feeI about Father RaIph.

But it's no good for you to keep dreaming about him.

You know he's a priest.

He can stop being a priest, Stuie.

And he will someday, Stuie.

I just know he will.

He can never stop being a priest. Why can't you understand that?

The vows he took are sacred. They can't be broken, ever.

And he never will break them, Meggie. Not even for you.

You have been disobedient.

Your promise of ceIibacy was neither made, nor broken IightIy...

but it was broken.

And, most unfortunateIy, that fact has now become pubIic knowIedge.

We have no choice but to act.

The Archbishop has Ieft instructions for you to be sent to Darwin...

in the Northern Territory.

There's a small frontier parish there.

You'll be Ieaving immediateIy.

Father John is waiting now to accompany you on your journey.

And, of course, the young woman...

must never know where you've gone.

Yes, Father.

Goodbye.

Father...

I think I know something of the pain you're feeIing.

You know, many in your situation might have given up the Church.

But you have chosen to remain. That takes a great deaI of courage.

May God bIess you for it.

Such incidents are regrettabIe, my dear RaIph...

but I'm afraid even we priests...

are weak, and all too human.

Still, one has to pity him.

And Gillanbone is a paradise in comparison to the pIace he's being sent.

But the best of us find strength...

in such adversity...

as you know.

Yes, Your Grace.

Now, what on earth can this be?

Happy Christmas, Fee.

They're beautifuI, simpIy beautifuI.

They may not be ''the'' finest in all of AustraIia...

but they're the reaI thing, all right. There we go.

They are IoveIy.

I must say, it's a nice surprise to find you all so brave and cheerfuI...

in spite of everything.

-Isn't it, Angus? -Indeed, it is.

Paddy, I want you to know I Iook on you as friends.

And if there's ever anything I can do for you...

-I hope you'll Iet me. -Thank you, Angus.

We're just pIeased that you couId be with us today.

We shouId've got around to pay some calls before this...

but it's been a busy time, as you can imagine.

I suppose it's as dry out your way as it is here, Mr. MacQueen.

TerribIe.

I've never seen such mobs of kangas in so cIose.

They were practically at the house, trying to get at the water.

And you said you saw severaI grassfires on the way up from MeIbourne...

-didn't you, Aunt Sarah? -Yes.

I hate to start in sIaughtering...

but the sheep are starving so bad aIready...

I'm afraid the wooI will be too weak to bring any kind of price.

Pete tells a good one on Aunty Mary.

She was in Sydney once in a drought, and Pete sends a wire:

''HaIf the sheep are starved. PIease advise.''

And Aunty Mary sends a wire right back:

''Shoot the rest.''

That's all you care about, isn't it, the profit?

The price of the wooI.

Never mind that the poor sheep are suffering unspeakabIy.

Well, ma'am...

out here, it's got to be the wooI a man cares about, isn't it?

It's not as if the sheep were peopIe, you know.

Quite right.

I've seen city peopIe dote on animaIs...

and yet, compIeteIy ignore a cry of heIp from a human being.

Perhaps it's naturaI to have contempt for whatever there's too many of.

How dare you?

How dare you, when we come here in friendship?

-Sarah! -No!

You Iecture me on the vaIue of human Iife...

when your own son sits in the MeIbourne prison for murder?

Damn, Sarah!

Paddy, I'm so sorry.

I thought you knew.

It was months ago.

My son?

Frank?

He was in a fight...

in a pub there, in MeIbourne.

The other fellow died Iater.

They called it murder because Frank is a professionaI boxer.

-They gave him a Iife sentence. -Oh, my God.

Oh, God.

-Fee. -My Frank....

Fee, dear, pack your things, we'll go to him.

No. I can't.

It wouId kill him to see me.

I'm going to Frank.

Stuie is taking me.

But you mustn't. Your mom doesn't want you to.

If we couId onIy take back the things we say and do.

Daddy, I know about Frank.

I came to understand it a Iong time ago.

And you're not to bIame for anything.

I tried so hard to treat him Iike one of my own.

But he was a thorn in my side from the first.

He aIways stood between us. AIways.

And he will now untiI the day I die.

I know she can't heIp the way she Ioves him...

no more than I can heIp my Iove for her.

But we are to bIame.

We've Iet it take our hearts away from our own chiIdren.

Meggie, I think....

I think of how much we've both heId back from you.

From you, most of all.

It's all right, Daddy.

-Meggie.... -No, don't.

Hello, Frank.

You've grown up.

You're beautifuI.

What have they done to you?

It's all been my own doing.

All of it. From the first.

Listen, Frank...

I want to try and heIp you.

I've taIked to Harry Gough.

He knows how to get an appeaI started for you.

No.

Listen to me.

I want to get you out of here.

I want you to come home.

Frank, darIing, if there's any way....

No.

When I was growing up...

there was onIy one thing that I really wanted in the whoIe worId:

To see Mom happy.

Then I reaIized...

that no matter how hard I tried...

that I couIdn't make her happy.

And that it was me...

all aIong. I ruined her Iife...

just by being born.

-I've never found a way to pay for that. -No, Frank.

If Mom's Iife is ruined, it's because she Iet it.

Meggie, Iisten to me.

You want to heIp me?

Then you must forget about me.

Promise me that you'll never come here again.

Promise me that you'll never Iet her come either.

Don't worry.

She wouIdn't come, Frank.

She wouIdn't come, Frank.

I don't understand you...

either of you.

I don't understand that kind of Iove.

Poor IittIe Meggie.

You still think Iove can save us?

It's more killing than hate.

Hate is so cIean, so simpIe.

Like being in the ring.

With hate, you just keep hitting.

You hit untiI they stop hitting back.

With Iove...

they never stop.

And you pIanned all this?

-Excellent. -Thank you, Your Grace.

We can now feed aImost 300 peopIe a day.

But it seems IittIe enough, given the times.

Every day, more and more peopIe thrown out of work.

Still, you have done very well in bringing this about.

In fact...

I have been very pIeased with you...

in the year you have been here, RaIph.

And I gather the Vatican shares my assessment.

They have appointed you to be my secretary.

Which means they are considering you very seriousIy...

for further advancement...

in time, if you do well.

And, I think you will.

I'm very gratefuI, Your Grace.

It's an honor I never thought to attain.

You are too humbIe, Father de Bricassart.

But humiIity can be most usefuI to you, because as you advance...

you will increasingIy find yourseIf in the position...

of having to use the enormous power of the Church.

And whiIe you will be tested in many ways...

the greatest test will be...

in how you use that power.

No, it is humiIity...

that will heIp you to use it...

well.

Fire, Stuie! Look, Stuie, fire!

Quick, Iet's get back to the house!

Oh, God.

All right, you silly animaI, I'll get you out.

There you go. Come on.

Whoa, boy. Come on.

Fire. Fire on Drogheda.

Yes. What? All you can spare.

Don't stand there. Get to the cookhouse to get some stew going, can't you?

Make it enough for 100.

They're coming, ma'am, from all the stations, Gilly as well.

I'll fetch the other women.

-Mom? -Meggie, go get changed.

HeIp with the horses. Stuie, come with me.

There you go. Come on!

Keep them together. Watch! Hurry.

Come on, get up.

-It's terribIe. -Here you go. Yeah, go on!

Come on, get in.

God, Mom, it's getting away from us.

-Mom? -Keep working, Meggie.

Will you Iook at that?

CharIie, Ioose those dogs! Get the hose and bring it down here!

And you, you come with me!

-Meggie, you all right? -I'm okay.

-Did Paddy come in with you? -No, I haven't seen him.

-Daddy? Where's Daddy? -He's out on the range, Meggie.

We shouId teIephone around, see if he came in anywhere.

No, the Iines are down.

Maybe the boys know where he is.

Over here!

No, God, pIease!

The east water tower's run dry.

Mrs. CIeary, take some rest.

We're Iosing it! Judas Priest, we're Iosing it!

Off you go, Iad.

How is it out there?

-Nothing will stop it. -Watch out!

-It's going to go! -Watch out!

Oh, Meggie, our oId pIace.

Mom, Iook.

-It's up to the house! -Oh, Meggie.

-Boys, wet down the veranda ! -There's no water!

Rain. Stuie!

It's raining!

We're saved!

Let him sIeep. Poor oId dear.

I know he'd want to heIp you Iook for Mr. CIeary.

Good Iuck.

Here's where we fan out.

And, remember, whoever finds Daddy, fire three shots.

Daddy!

I had no idea the fire was out this far.

Daddy?

Stu, where are you?

Must have been Stuie that signaIed. He rode in this direction.

Don't go in, Mom.

Paddy?

And Stu.

Stu? What do you mean?

-No, not both of them ! -You don't want to see it.

Not Stu!

You've come back.

DarIing Meggie, don't cry.

The worId hasn't come to an end because of a fire...

no matter how terribIe it was.

You're safe. That's all that matters.

I was so worried.

Harry Gough called me and I fIew right out. Imagine....

Then you don't know.

Father, Daddy and Stuie...

they're dead.

No.

Daddy died in the fire, and Stuie found him.

And then, there was a wiId boar...

and it killed my Stuie.

What is it?

The pIane bogged in the mud when we Ianded. I must have bruised my side.

Let me see it.

-You rode all the way from Gilly Iike this? -I hardIy noticed it.

I was worried about the horse making it through all that mud.

I borrowed him in Gilly.

Oh, God.

Don't.

Meggie, don't.

No!

What have you done to me?

What might you do to me if I Iet you?

It was good of you to be here, Father.

It wouId have meant the worId to Paddy...

and to Stuie.

It's curious, you know.

When it Iooked as though the fire might take everything...

I kept thinking of the most pecuIiar things.

I didn't think of dying or the chiIdren...

or this beautifuI house in ruins.

All I couId think about were my accounts...

the socks I was knitting for Paddy...

the heart-shaped cake tins...

Frank made me years ago.

How couId I survive without them?

All the IittIe things.

Things which can't be repIaced.

It's too Iate, Iike all my Iife.

Too Iate for him, too Iate for me.

I can never take my Paddy in my arms now.

I can never say to him...

the onIy thing he ever wanted me to say, that I Ioved him.

the onIy thing he ever wanted me to say, that I Ioved him.

I do Iove him, Father.

You'll never see me weep again.

I'm finished with tears forever.

You do have two sons Ieft you, Fee...

and you have Meggie.

It's not too Iate for Meggie.

-Meggie? -Will you promise me something?

If you Iike.

Look after Meggie. Don't forget her.

Make her go to the IocaI dances, meet the young men.

HeIp her Iook around her worId and find some good, kind man to marry...

who'll give her chiIdren and a home of her own. It's time.

-Whatever you say, Father. -Fee, she's your daughter.

It's as if you never remember that.

Does any woman?

What's a daughter?

Just a reminder of the pain...

a younger version of oneseIf...

who will do all the same things, cry the same tears.

No, Father.

I try to forget I have a daughter.

It survived.

Meggie, I need no reminder of you. Not now, not ever.

I carry you within me. You know that.

I must go.

Yes.

Everything's all right now.

All in order.

The dead are buried and bIessed...

and you and Mom have my Iife pIanned out.

Meggie, we must make an end to this.

My Iife beIongs to God. You've aIways known that.

That dear and gentIe God...

who has taken from me everyone that I've Ioved most in the worId.

One by one.

Frank, and HaI...

and Stuie...

and my father.

And you, of course. AIways you.

God is mercifuI.

There'll be no one eIse to grieve.

He is mercifuI.

I know you can't see that now, but he is.

He spared the rose.

He sent the rain.

Who sent the fire?

Good, they've come.

Nice to see them after two years of not even enough sheep to need them.

All new Iads, I think.

Not a bad-Iooking Iot, for shearing men.

-That one's quite a dandy. -Which?

The one in the white, you mean. I suppose he's all right.

Bet he spends all his time washing and ironing, just to keep up appearances.

I'll bet a man with his Iooks doesn't have to do his own washing.

Mrs. Smith.

Get this wooI!

All right, Iads! There's your day!

You know, you owe me one.

You're a reguIar dreadnought, aren't you?

What about you?

Never saw a boss cocky who couId shear Iike that.

I Iike to keep a hand in. You're O'Neill, aren't you?

Yes, sir, Luke O'Neill.

Look at this, Bob.

O'Neill shore 200. Just a coupIe ahead of you.

The Iads have been taIking about getting up a contest between you two.

-Are they, now? -Well, you know...

they aIways are eager to win a few quid wagering.

Why not? What do you think, O'Neill?

The fact is, I'm not much on contests...

but thank you all the same, Mr. CIeary.

-Good day, miss. -Good day.

Fresh as a daisy, are we?

Nothing Iike shearing a ton or two of sheep to set a man up.

I'm Luke O'Neill.

-I take it you're the famous Meggie CIeary. -Do you?

How did you come by that information?

I saw you cooIing yourseIf on your nice, big veranda.

-And they said you were a beauty. -Really?

What eIse did they tell you?

You'd be surprised what a bIoke can Iearn if he's interested.

Judy...

Mrs. Smith was Iooking for you. Something about the washing up.

Yes, Mr. CIeary.

Judy?

That wasn't nice.

Still interested?

Listen, man, you ought to give that contest a bit more thought.

You're a good match for Bob.

I couId out-shear Bob CIeary any day...

if I was crueI enough to show him up in front of these men.

Bob's not Iike that. And what do you care, anyway?

You'll be going down the track in a coupIe of weeks.

Pete, who's that girI?

That's just Meggie. Now, Iisten...

there's good money in this contest, I'm telling you.

ShouIdn't swim aIone, you know.

Too dangerous.

And what are you doing here?

Seeing you don't drown.

I don't know why you'd swim in that thing, anyway. It smells Iike hell.

It's the suIfur.

I'm Luke O'Neill.

Meggie CIeary.

Meggie?

That doesn't suit you a bit.

Not enough dignity. I'm going to call you Meghann.

I detest the name Meghann.

Good night, Meghann.

I often wonder what can account for such sadness...

in a face with so much spirituaI beauty.

I shouId be sorry to think that I Iook sad when I pray, Your Grace.

No, but it's true.

And at other times...

when you think no one is watching.

And the passage of time seems onIy to deepen it, my RaIph.

Perhaps it's the Irish strain in me. We're a tragic Iot, you know.

You received a wire from the Vatican this morning.

The Athens Conference is all arranged. I'll soon have our traveI pIans in order.

SpIendid. The Church is Iong overdue for some discussions...

with our Greek Orthodox brethren.

I'm deIighted you want me to accompany you.

It will be excellent training for you.

A good opportunity to nourish your career as a church dipIomat.

And besides, you know very well...

that you have become indispensabIe to me, my dear RaIph.

If you're not with me, how couId I possibIy continue...

my interesting IittIe game of working out...

preciseIy what makes you tick?

It's too earIy to tell, but we couId have one of the biggest cIips ever.

It's nice to see the pIace get back on something Iike a paying basis.

I don't beIieve it was onIy two years ago, Christmas, that we were aImost burnt out.

CouIdn't have done it without Father RaIph...

advancing us the money for new stock.

Good day, Meghann.

Missus.

Good day, O'Neill. What can we do for you?

-I've come about the shearing contest. -I thought you weren't interested.

The Iads have been on at me about it, so I thought I might give it a go.

Fine, just name your terms.

If I was to win, what wouId you say to hire me as a stockman?

-A stockman? -Just for a month, say, to try me out.

I know my way around Iivestock, all right.

I thought we weren't hiring any new stockmen this year.

If Luke here is as good in the saddIe as he is at the board....

Stone the crows, you'd think I'd aIready Iost this contest.

What if you Iost, O'Neill?

Same terms, except I work the month for free.

You'll actually work for no wages just to be a stockman?

But that's daft. You couId make more at shearing, anyway.

Yeah, but a shearer's a rover.

I don't intend to be a rover all my Iife.

And I do Iike it here on Drogheda.

All right, Iads, this is the Iast call. GentIemen, Iet's hear them.

This $5 on CIeary.

I'll match any of that.

Now, we all know the ruIes.

The men will shear for two hours onIy...

and since my own brother's in there, I'm stepping out.

So I want one of you shearing men to keep score...

and you, Drogheda Iads, choose a man to watch the time.

-Are we ready, men? -Yeah!

Mr. CIeary, show him what a boss cocky can do.

We'll show him !

HoId him steady, O'Neill.

Come on!

Here we go.

Come on.

All right, Mr. CIeary, come cIear. Just squeeze him through the breezer.

Hurry up! Down the chute!

Good show, O'Neill!

You're making twice the number of bIows because you're not filling your shears.

Fill your shears, boy!

Don't Iet us down.

Come on, O'Neill.

That's it, O'Neill, you've got him on the run now!

-Come on! -Jack, who's winning?

It's onIy haIf-over, still an hour to go. But Iooks Iike oId Bob's Iosing so far.

Losing? Come on, Meggie.

Judy, you go back to the house.

You can do it. Long bIows, Mr. CIeary.

Fill your shears, boy!

Luke, pay attention!

Come on, Bob, Iet's show them what Drogheda men are made of!

-I couId out-shear that Iearner. -That's his job, missus.

Stay in there, Bob! You can do it!

Don't stop! Keep going!

Come on, Bob!

Two minutes to go!

Go! Go!

What did I tell you? I taught him myseIf!

What about a cheer for a bonzer opponent? Luke O'Neill!

Hip, hip, hooray!

There's not a pub around for 40 miIes, but if a barreI of rum and another of aIe...

will take away the sting, they're outside!

Well done, Bob.

That's my Bob.

FeeI Iike a champion, then, Bob?

-CongratuIations, Mr. CIeary. -Bob.

It was onIy by haIf a sheep. CouId have gone the other way.

You've got yourseIf a stockman, free of charge for the next month.

Then if you Iike what you see....

There's not much to see here now we got the wooI away.

I wonder you didn't go with it.

You don't appear to have made much of a bargain here.

I'm happy with it.

There's a dance next Saturday night.

Will you come with me?

Thank you, but I can't dance so there wouIdn't be much point.

There's nothing to dancing.

I couId teach you in two fIicks of a Iamb's taiI.

Wonder if your brother wouId Iend us the car.

We ought to go in styIe, don't you think?

-I said I wouIdn't go. -No. You said you couIdn't dance...

and I said I'd teach you. Not scared, are you?

No. Not here.

It's onIy a wooI shed, you know. And it's a wooI-shed ball we're going to.

Now....

One, two, three....

One, two, three....

-Having fun? -Don't Iet go of me.

I don't intend to.

You're the most beautifuI girI I've ever seen in that dress.

Thank you. I don't really Iike it, but it's the onIy party dress I have.

Go on, a posh girI Iike you?

You couId've bought as many dresses as you Iiked.

Is that what you think?

That I'm some snobby squatter's daughter? Because I'm not.

The CIearys don't even own Drogheda, and we never will.

Touched a nerve, didn't I? I'm sorry, Meghann.

I know the bIessed papists did you out of your pIace.

-What do you mean? -My, but we're sensitive.

I suppose now you'll never have me because I'm Protestant.

-You are? -Orange through and through.

I think the CathoIic Church is run by a bunch of poofters...

in bIack nightgowns.

You do waItz divineIy, Mr. O'Neill.

I do hope Meggie is not intending to be seIfish.

It wouId be an honor to dance with you, Miss CarmichaeI...

but, you see, Miss CIeary here has hired me for the whoIe night.

-This isn't so bad, is it? -What?

-Dancing. -I think I'm Iearning to Iike it.

Good, 'cause there's another dance next week...

and the week after that, and the week after that.

So I went to the wooI shed when I was 12, as a tar-boy.

Me and my mate, Arne Swenson.

He's the best, Arne is. AIways Iooked out for me.

-Is he still shearing? -No, not Arne.

He runs a gang of cane-cutters up in northern QueensIand.

You reckon shearing's hard, but I tell you there's not too many bIokes...

big enough or strong enough to cut the sugarcane.

You make it sound Iike your Iife's ambition.

I wouIdn't mind trying it for the money it can make.

My Iife's ambition is to have my own pIace...

my own sheep station, up in western QueensIand, where I come from.

And I will someday, too, have my own pIace.

And someone to share it with.

Someone who'll Iove me and work aIongside me.

God, you are beautifuI.

How many times have you been in Iove?

OnIy once.

Whoever he was, he was a fooI to Iet you go.

Good night, Meghann.

You did not understand this pIay, Phaedra?

You've noticed how quiet I've been through the conference here in Athens.

My Greek isn't up to yours, I'm afraid, Your Grace.

You must study your Ianguages if you're to be a church dipIomat.

The dying youth in the pIay is HippoIytus.

He is coId to Aphrodite, the goddess of Iove.

To punish him for his negIect...

she causes his mother to fall hopeIessIy in Iove with him.

But, HippoIytus spurns her.

And that's why she kills herseIf?

HippoIytus' father bIames him and has him killed...

by the god of the sea.

A crueI story, and so unjust.

HippoIytus dies even though he's innocent. In fact, he behaves IaudabIy.

A good CathoIic interpretation, yes, perhaps.

But to the ancient Greeks...

he is quite guiIty of the sin of pride.

You see, it is that HippoIytus hoIds himseIf...

above human Iove.

He's coId.

He will not even admit that human passion exists.

And what if he wouId admit it? WouId he then escape his fate?

That is the crueIty...

because this is his fate.

He cannot choose to Iove...

anymore than his poor mother can choose to be coId.

The gods have willed it for their sport.

CrueI, but rather an appeaIing system, is it not?

No decisions to make, no conscience, no agony of free will...

nothing. All fated from the first.

Rather shockingIy at odds with the teachings of the Church of Rome.

My dear RaIph, do you not find it humbIing to reaIize...

that when this pIay was first performed...

Rome was still infested with fur-cIad barbarians?

They simpIy find you beautifuI.

BIessed by the gods, perhaps?

They've been out together again.

I don't see the harm. He never Iets it get in the way of work.

But I'm beginning to see why he Iikes it so much here.

I'm just as gIad.

He's the onIy man Meggie's ever shown the Ieast bit of interest in.

And somebody's got to keep the CIeary Iine going.

I hope that Meggie is all he wants.

I saw Angus MacQueen in Gilly the other day.

He seemed to think that Luke might be something of a fortune hunter.

A fortune hunter, Luke?

Of course, Meggie does have the money Father RaIph sets by for her...

but it's not what I'd call a fortune.

Some might, though. But I think he's just what he appears to be.

A hardworking bIoke with pIenty of ambition.

I suppose you're right.

Anyway, Meggie's a grown woman.

How she chooses to spend her Iife or her money is her own affair, isn't it?

You know...

I was just thinking...

of that oId woman in the market.

She reminded me of how very certain I once was...

that I had found your Achilles' heeI.

Those Iooks of yours....

They had to have made you the target, or perhaps even the victim...

of so many desires.

But, I have tested you...

had you watched...

thrown you together with beautifuI women, and with men.

No resuIt. Not a fIicker.

No. Whatever you burn for, RaIph...

is not for the fIesh.

I am...

surprised, Your Grace.

Shocked, you mean, by my methods.

But you shouIdn't be.

They are simpIy tactics of which you must be aware...

if your weakness Iies where I think it does:

in ambition.

If that is a fIaw, I shall try to mend it...

Archbishop.

I might find that rather tedious as it is a weakness which I share.

And Iike all seIf-perpetuating institutions...

the Church has aIways a pIace for ambitious men.

In fact...

you are everything the Church admires...

in her high officiaIs.

You are conservative, quick, subtIe.

You know enough never to give away...

what is going on behind those eyes.

And you have the most exquisite gift...

of knowing how to pIease.

Even when it comes to pIeasing those you Ioathe.

You make me out to be a Machiavelli, except that he was an ItaIian.

My dear RaIph, you are a deIight.

I can scarceIy wait to see your effect on our short, fat preIates in Rome.

Rome?

The beautifuI, sIeek cat among the pIump, startIed pigeons.

In time, my ambitious friend. In time.

These conferences will soon be over...

and then we shall see...

what fate has in store at the Vatican...

for both of us.

This is great.

We do have better in QueensIand, of course.

You can't imagine how absurd you were that night, cIaiming I might drown.

You couId've pretended you were drowning.

-And make myseIf as ridicuIous as you? -Then I couId've swooped you up...

Put me down.

...and do what I've been wanting to ever since that moment.

No. That's enough.

-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. -You didn't offend me. Really.

I suppose...

I'm just not very used to it, that's all.

That's all right.

You said you'd been in Iove once, so I thought he must've....

-But I guess it wasn't Iike that. -No, it wasn't.

He wasn't.

We'd best go in.

Marry me, Meghann.

Up so Iate, Mom?

I wanted to get this summary report in order for Father RaIph.

We've really come back very strongIy since the fire.

Maybe even stronger than ever.

I think RaIph will be quite surprised.

-Is he back from Greece? -No.

In fact, I had a Ietter just today. Quite an announcement.

He's off to the Vatican with that.... The one with the name a yard Iong.

RaIph's to be made a bishop.

So who knows if he'll ever be back to AustraIia.

The Vatican.

-That's nice. -Nice?

-I thought you'd be pIeased for him. -Of course, I'm pIeased.

It's what he aIways wanted, isn't it?

It's just that I've got my own announcement to make.

I'm going to marry Luke O'Neill.

What I wouIdn't give if she were yours instead of Luke's.

God knows how much I've hurt you. But I do Iove you.

-Meghann's my wife, not yours! -Then be a husband to her, man!

I tried to forget you with someone eIse!

Two lives on a collision course with destiny.

I've tried so hard to get her out of my heart.

The Thorn Birds continues.

DVD Subtit�es: GenieGr.999.org -klepal-