Original subtitles

(bells tolling)

Dorothea: Are you going to the library again today, Edward?

Edward: Yes.

I hope when we get back to Lowick, I can be more useful to you

and be able to enter a little more into what interests you.

Doubtless, my dear.

Carp is willfully irresponsibly mistaken

on the Etruscan fish deities and the world shall know it.

Isn’t it time now to do what you used to speak of?

- What? - Well, your notebooks.

Isn’t it time to make up your mind what part of them you will use

and begin to write your book?

Begin to make your vast knowledge useful to the world?

I can do anything –

write to your dictation,

or copy and extract, what you like.

But surely, Edward, it must be time

to expose your great theory to the judgment of your fellow scholars.

My love, I think you may rely upon me

to know the times and the seasons, the different stages of a work

which is not to be measured by the superficial judgment of ignorant onlookers –

My judgment was of –

It had been easy for me to gain some temporary effect,

but it is ever the trial of the scrupulous explorer

to be saluted by the impatient scorn of chatterers

who attempt only the smallest achievement,

being indeed equipped for no other.

My judgment was a very superficial one, Edward.

What else could it be?

You have shown me these notebooks.

You have often spoken about them.

You have often said they need to be condensed.

But I have never heard you speak of the writing that is to be published.

And those are very simple facts.

My judgment went no further.

I only begged you to let me be of some good to you.

(crowd speaking Italian, yelling)

If you had come a little earlier, you would have seen him.

He goes to read in the library of the Vatican every day.

And stays there all day?

Usually yes.

Please sit down.

- (chuckles) - Something amuses you?

Yes, I was thinking of when we first met at Lowick,

the figure I cut when you annihilated

my poor sketch with your criticism.

Surely not, I know nothing of painting.

Really?

I suspected you of knowing so much

that you knew just how to say what was most cutting.

That was really my ignorance.

(chuckles)

- And you’ve been sketching here in Rome? - Yes.

Then you do mean to make painting your profession?

Mr. Casaubon will be so pleased you have chosen a profession.

On the contrary, I’ve quite made up my mind against it.

- Oh. - I have no genius for painting.

Things don’t come easily to me. I never get them.

I have heard Mr. Casaubon speak of your want of patience.

Yes, I know Mr. Casaubon’s opinion. He and I differ.

Certainly you differ. I hadn’t thought of comparing you.

Such power of devoted labor as Mr. Casaubon’s is not common.

Quite.

Such a pity it should all be thrown away –

so much English scholarship is,

for want of knowing what’s being done by the rest of the world.

- What do you mean? - I merely mean

that the Germans have taken the lead in historical inquiries.

They’ve solved most of the problems

that have bedeviled English scholars for years.

Are you quite sure about this?

I regret it.

Especially, of course, because of my feelings of...

gratitude and respect towards my cousin.

Dorothea: All your notebooks, all your volumes,

isn’t it time now to do what you used to speak of?

Isn’t it time to make up your mind what part of them you will use

and begin to write your book?

Begin to make your vast knowledge useful to the world?

I can do anything –

write to your dictation or copy and extract, what you like.

But surely, Edward, it must be time

to expose your great theory to the judgment of your fellow scholars.

Isn’t it time now to do what you used to speak of?

Surely, Edward, it must be time

to expose your great theory to the judgment of your fellow scholars...

Had you received him in my absence?

He came to pay his respects,

to express his gratitude to you.

Doubtless.

Please, don’t be angry with me, Edward.

Mr. Ladislaw has invited us to see

some of the studios of the religious painters here.

And you wish to go, no doubt.

Only if you do.

Please, forgive me for speaking so hastily to you this morning.

I was wrong.

I fear I hurt you and made the day more burdensome to you.

I’m glad you feel that, my dear.

But you do forgive me?

My dear Dorothea,

who with repentance is not satisfied

is not of heaven nor earth.

- (sobs) - You are excited,

and I also am feeling the...

unpleasant consequences of too much mental disturbance.

We shall speak no more of it.

(applause)

Mayor: My lord, Lady Medlicote,

fellow citizens, as mayor of Middlemarch,

I am pleased and honored to welcome you here

to the dedication of the new fever hospital,

built entirely by public and private subscription.

And here, I might mention

the singular generosity of Mr. Nicholas Bulstrode.

(cheering)

The medical supervision of the new hospital

is entrusted to the care of Dr. Lydgate

who has volunteered his services gratis

in the furtherance of public health

and the advance of medical science.

- Man: Hear, hear, excellent! - (cheering)

The spiritual welfare of the patients

- is in the capable hands of the Reverend Mr. Tyke. - (applause)

- It should have been Farebrother – damn disgrace! - Hear, hear!

These are stirring times, my friends.

- Change is in the air. - Hear, hear!

Mayor: And I for one am proud to see our town

so far advanced in reforms

- as to make life better for us all. - (cheering)

Brooke: A better life for everyone, well said.

- And now – - Hear, hear!

Yes, yes, well said, Vincy.

Progress and reform – the advance of science. Excellent.

New ideas about ventilation and diet.

Mr. Brooke, if you wouldn’t mind?

I do beg your pardon, Lady Medlicote.

(cheering, applause)

Man: You do me great honor,

taking the time to view our work here, Mr. Casaubon.

Oh, and Mrs. Casaubon, of course.

This has been a most rewarding visit, Mr. Naumann.

It’s interesting to see such a colony of artists at work.

Yes, many of us live here permanently.

Others such as my friend Ladislaw

come to study for a short while only. Please.

Mr. Casaubon, forgive me, but I have been looking at you all morning.

A sketch of your head

would be invaluable.

Let me show you.

Saint Thomas Aquinas.

Perhaps it is asking too much.

You astonish me greatly, sir.

But if my poor physiognomy can be of help to you for the good doctor.

I shall be honored.

That is if the operation is not a lengthy one

and if Mrs. Casaubon will not object to the delay.

Saint Thomas Aquinas, what a happy thought.

Allow me.

Please.

(pencil scratching)

Naumann: Come and look, Ladislaw.

I think it is perfect so far.

The color is fine.

It will just suit you.

Oh no, they’re for my sister.

She’s light-haired, very pretty.

At least I think so.

You don’t seem to care for cameos.

No, frankly, I don’t think them a great object in life.

I fear you’re heretic about art generally,

how is that?

I should have expected you to be very sensitive to the beautiful everywhere.

I should like to make life beautiful.

I mean everybody’s life.

And then all this huge expense of art

that seems to make life no better for the world pains me.

The best piety is to enjoy it

when you can.

It’s naïve to try to take care of all the world

unless you allow yourself to feel some delight in it.

I’m beginning to suspect you of having some false belief in the virtues of misery.

The work is progressing satisfactorily?

Magnificent.

Dorothea: Have there not been valuable books written by scholars

who knew nothing of these modern things?

Well, they’re still used.

Why should not my husband’s be valuable like theirs?

Don’t you see? It’s no use now to be crawling a little way

after men of the last century correcting their mistakes.

No one cares anymore.

The focus of interest has moved on.

How can you speak so lightly?

If it were as you say,

what could be sadder than so much ardent labor all in vain?

I’ve made you think ill of me?

No, I like you very much.

Please, don’t mention this to anyone again.

Promise me.

I promise.

I fear this may be tiresome for Mrs. Casaubon.

(whinnying loudly)

Settle it, that’s it.

Come on, that’s it. Settle, there’s a good boy.

- Calm him down. - (men’s voices approaching)

That’s better. Good boy, good boy.

Bambridge: So this is Diamond.

Well, I’m very disappointed.

Wouldn’t have him as a gift.

I wouldn’t touch him with a toasting fork.

He looks a nasty brute to me.

Not him, sir, only wants riding.

Lord Medlicote’s man was looking for a gray.

Luck of the devil, young Vincy.

Luck of old Nick.

If you can sell him on to Lord Medlicote, you’re a made man.

- (whinnying) - Ooh, Diamond!

Rosamond: Steady, Fred, be careful!

Steady, Diamond!

(grunts) Right!

Rosamond: Is this your great bargain then?

Diamond! Diamond!

I can’t imagine who would buy a brute like that.

Fred, Mary’s just been here.

- Morning, Mrs. Garth. - You missed her. Come in.

- (kids shouting) It’s Fred! - You go out now.

- I’ll take them, mother. - Thank you, Alfred.

- Come on. - Go on outside.

Boy: Oh, but we want to stay and talk to Fred!

- Go on. - (kids whining)

Sit down, Fred. Caleb will be down directly.

Are Letty and Ben your only pupils now, Mrs. Garth?

I’m at a low ebb for pupils.

But I’ve saved my purse for Alfred’s apprenticeship.

All of £92. He can go to Mr. Hammer’s now.

Mrs. Garth...

Caleb wants the boy to have his chance.

He thinks he may turn out a famous engineer.

(latch clicks)

What, Fred, my boy?

You look poorly. Is anything the matter?

Yes, Mr. Garth.

I’m afraid you’re gonna have a rather poor opinion of me,

but I’ve come to tell you that I can’t keep my word.

I can’t meet Mr. Bambridge’s bill after all.

And he’s demanding immediate payment.

I’ve pleaded with him, but the man is iron.

I owe 160 and all I have...

are these £50.

What do you mean?

Oh, I forgot to tell you, Susan,

I put my name to some bills Fred had run up with Mr. Bambridge.

Fred was sure he’d be able to pay them himself.

Was he?

It’s come at a bad time.

I shall need everything we have in the bank.

£110.

I suppose you’ve asked your father?

That would be of no use, he wouldn’t give me a penny.

It’s clear what we must do.

I shall give you the £92 I put by for Alfred’s premium.

And I’m sure Mary will have saved £20 by now

from what Mr. Featherstone gives her.

I shall certainly pay it all back, Mrs. Garth, ultimately.

Yes, you will – ultimately.

But boys can’t be apprenticed ultimately.

They must be apprenticed at 15.

It is my fault, Susan,

I had no business signing that bill for Fred.

I suppose you have tried –

I’ve tried everything, Mr. Garth.

I had bad luck with a horse I was selling that turned out wrong.

I have no horse at all now. I came on Rosy’s horse.

I hate having brought this on you.

There’s no one else I care so much for and...

and now you will always think me a scoundrel.

Mr. Garth: My friend, you must ride over to Mary

and ask the child for what money she has.

I’m sorry.

Mary: 15, 16, 17,

one, two,

three...

four.

You may tell father I have enough to cover the rest of your debt and £6 over.

Mary, I can’t bear this.

Yes you can.

I’m so very sorry.

I’m sure you are now.

I didn’t mean any of it.

I had such terrible luck.

But when you have bad luck,

other people suffer for it.

- Mary? - (tearfully) What?

Do you hate me now?

(sniffs) I don’t think well of you.

I don’t think I could go on living if you hated me.

If I lose my hope of you,

I have no hope at all.

I could never hate you, Fred.

You were my best friend when I was a little girl

and you’ve always been good to me,

and happy to know me even when the rest of your family put on such airs...

but I cannot respect you.

Every chance you get you waste.

How could I respect you?

And how could I marry a man I can’t respect?

I wish you were a better man, Fred.

- (bangs) - Mr. Featherstone: Mary, where are you, Missy?

I want my chamber-pot.

What the devil are you at, girl?

- Mother. - Why, Fred!

You are pale.

What is it, dear?

- Whatever is the matter? - He’s drunk, mama.

I feel strange, mother, I think you better send for Wrench.

Oh my dear, stay here.

Pritchard!

Pritchard.

What is it, Dr. Wrench?

Slight derangement is all...

I apprehend nothing serious.

Aah!

Aah.

Ah, system needs purging, I warrant.

Spoonful or two of Dr. Wrench’s black draft will suffice.

We’ll have you riding to hounds again in no time, young man.

- Good day then, ma’am. - Good day, Dr. Wrench.

Thank you kindly.

(wind whistles)

(horse hooves clopping)

(whinnying)

- Steady, lad, hup! - (thuds)

(hoofbeats departing)

What a mercy Rosamond saw you in the street.

Wrench said he would not come again

for all it made poor Fred worse instead of better.

You should have seen him in the night –

the poor boy didn’t know his own mother.

Is he very ill?

You were right to call me in.

I’m afraid your son is in the pink-skinned stage of typhoid fever.

and unfortunately he’s taken just the wrong medicine.

Oh, doctor.

Is he – will he – ?

Fred... oh, Fred.

Dr. Lydgate, save my boy.

Yes, he has a strong constitution, Mrs. Vincy.

I have every hope of his recovery.

He must have a regular nurse and a constant supply of cold water.

I’ll start him on opium and alcohol immediately to lose no time.

What a villain Dr. Wrench is.

You mustn’t blame Dr. Wrench, Mrs. Vincy,

The symptoms yesterday might have been disguising it.

Typhoid is difficult to diagnose in the very early stages.

Dr. Lydgate, you must come again.

- You must carry on attending Fred. - Yes, please do.

I shall write to Dr. Wrench and explain the circumstances.

I’m sure he won’t be offended.

It’s a damned impudence!

I’ve attended that family for 20 years.

And now I’m made to read some damn scoundrelly lecture

on symptoms and prognoses and I don’t know what.

By God, it comes to something

when they steal your patients from under your very nose

and give you a scolding into the bargain.

This Lydgate’s no better than a quack in my opinion.

His fancy foreign notions and his cant about cures -

How do we know what his bona fides are, eh?

Do you know what he told me,

His Majesty’s coroner, these 20 years?

That a lawyer is no better than an old woman at a post-mortem examination.

He thinks a doctor should conduct it.

Wrench: The man is an impostor.

He has degrees from Edinburgh and Paris, I understand, Wrench.

He’s a clever fellow, for all you don’t care for him –

Damn too clever in my opinion, sir.

- Bulstrode’s fond of him. - (groans)

They’re a pretty pair – one all pride and principles,

the other all cant and holiness.

- (metal clangs) - Man: Very wobbly –

and both of them elbow-deep in each others’ pockets.

Man: These outbreaks wouldn’t happened in the first place.

Good day, gentlemen.

Bulstrode: Well, gentlemen, to business.

The house surgeon has reported an outbreak of intestinal ailments

amongst patients in the upper ward...

- There they are! - Dodo!

We’ve come to welcome you back from Rome.

Oh, I’ve missed you, Kitty.

No need to ask you, my dear,

Rome has agreed with you, I see.

Ah, Casaubon! Back on the blessed plot.

Eh? This earth, this realm, this England,

teeming womb, you know, and so forth.

How do you do, sir?

How do I do? Very well indeed.

But you’re a little pale, Casaubon, you know, a little pale.

Oh, nothing to alarm you, my dear.

A little English beef and mutton will make a difference.

All very well to look pale when you’re sitting for a portrait of Aquinas.

We had your letter, you see. But this Aquinas now,

he was a little too subtle, wasn’t he? Does anybody read Aquinas?

He’s not, indeed, sir, an author adapted for...

- superficial minds. - Aha!

Perhaps you should rest now.

Perhaps you’re right, my love.

Miss Brooke, gentlemen, you’re very welcome here.

I appreciate your kind intention,

but you will excuse me now.

Yes, yes, of course, my dear man.

My wife I’m sure will entertain you in the proper manner.

He’s very tired.

It was an arduous journey.

(coach departing)

Dodo, I can’t wait to tell you any longer.

Sir James and I are engaged to be married.

Oh, Celia.

Oh, Kitty!

Oh, Dodo, it was because you went away.

There was nobody but me for James to talk to.

That’s wonderful.

I’ve gone on with the cottages, Mrs. Casaubon.

I little doubted that you would.

I look forward to inspecting how they progress.

I know the ones here are well managed.

- Roberts, leave that one here, would you? - Mrs. Casaubon.

I’ve brought some cameos for you, Kitty. Thank you.

I wasn’t sure about them, but Mr. Ladislaw advised me.

- Do you remember him? - Yes, he’s an artist in Rome now.

Not anymore. He says he intends

to return to this part of the country, and earn his living with a pen.

Does he now?

Excellent!

That’s just what we need now, do you see? Young men with bold ideas.

Oh, Dodo, they are exquisite.

- Thank you. - Of course.

Ha, welcome again.

(chuckles)

(piano playing)

- Oh... - No please, don’t let me disturb you.

How did you find poor Fred today?

He’s still in a high fever, but he’s –

he’s coming through it well, I believe.

I’m always more anxious for your mother.

Oh yes, poor mama.

I shall go to her. I’ll take her a little beef tea.

No, I’ve put that in hand.

Will you not let me hear you play a little more?

No,

you have heard the best musicians in London and Paris, I...

I’ve heard nothing that charmed me so much as the music you were playing.

Will you not play it again for me?

Oh, very well.

(playing piano)

I must go and see mama.

The rain stopped, ma’am.

Why don’t you take the air while you have the chance?

A person could go mad shut up here all day.

Thank you, Tantripp, but I have too much to do.

I may go for a walk later.

Very well, ma’am.

Thank you.

(clock ticking)

I finished the copying you set me, Edward.

Is there anything I could do for you? Could I read for you perhaps?

Thank you, no.

The weather is a little better.

We could go for a walk,

or we could drive towards Tipton.

I’m sure the air would do you good.

I’m glad that you have the time, my dear, but I fear that I do not.

I have begun work on a new pamphlet.

Edward, do you not think

that perhaps today we could begin to work together on your book?

Dorothea...

If I were first to copy selected passages from your notebooks –

My dear, I have told you, I am busy with this article.

Have you received any comments on the last one yet,

about the Etruscan mysteries?

Not as yet, no.

By the way, Dorothea, here is a letter for you.

It was enclosed in one addressed to me.

Thank you.

It’s from Mr. Ladislaw. what can he have to say?

You may read the letter if you please.

Though I may as well say at once I shall decline

the proposal it contains – to pay a visit here.

I trust I may be excused for desiring an interval

of complete freedom from such distractions

as have hitherto been inevitable

especially from guests whose desultory vivacity

makes their presence a fatigue.

Edward, why do you think I should wish for anything that would annoy you?

When have I ever consulted my own pleasure before yours?

Oh, Dorothea, you are hasty.

No, it is you who are hasty in your false suppositions about my feelings.

Well, let us say no more upon the subject.

I have neither the leisure nor the energy for this kind of debate.

(crashes)

Edward?

- (panting) - Lean on me, darling.

What is it?

What has happened?

Edward...

You should not distress yourself unduly.

He’s breathing very comfortably now.

He should sleep for some hours.

Will the illness return?

Come.

I’m afraid it’s very difficult to say in these cases.

It is essential now

that he should not strain his nervous powers in any way.

In particular, I would advise you

not to tell him of the seriousness of his condition.

Increased anxiety can exacerbate disease of the heart.

Please, speak plainly, Dr. Lydgate.

I cannot bear to think there might be something I didn’t know

which might make me act differently.

I shall speak absolutely plainly.

He may have another attack within days...

or weeks.

It could result in death.

On the other hand, he may live for five, ten,

even fifteen years.

You mean if we are very careful?

He should try to moderate and vary his occupations.

He would be miserable if he had to give up his work.

He’s been laboring all his life and looking forward.

He minds about nothing else.

And I mind about nothing else.

Help me, please.

Tell me what I can do.

I wish I could have spared you this pain.

It was right of you to tell me.

Thank you for telling me the truth.

To be sure, my dear,

of course you cannot possibly receive young Ladislaw now.

I shall be happy to write to him –

interesting young man...

I could possibly help him myself.

I have heard that “The Middlemarch Pioneer”

is in need of a new editor.

I don’t think Mr. Ladislaw should come to Middlemarch at all.

Whatever you say, my dear.

But who are we to forbid him if he really wants to come?

However, I shall write as you suggest.

It seems a shame though... young men, you know, with new ideas.

I like him uncommonly well.

Did you understand what I said? I don’t think he should come here.

Yes, my dear, yes of course, you’re absolutely right.

Dr. Lydgate, did he –

(Edward yelling) Tell Mr. Farebrother I’ve no need of preachers yet.

- He says he won’t see you. - (yelling continues)

How delightful.

Then I shall be able to spend more time with you, Mary,

if you have any to spare for me.

You know I have. Please, sit down.

I’m just come from visiting your old playfellow.

Fred?

Oh, tell me, how did you find him?

He’s very weak

and very sorry for himself.

But he’s out of his delirium now

and Lydgate is confident he’s turned the corner.

So he will soon be back to his billiards and his horses

and his cards and his gambling, I suppose.

Rather like me, Mary.

(chuckles) Yes, you’re two very bad characters.

The only difference between you is that Fred always loses

and you always win at every game, so I hear.

Except one perhaps.

No, I’m glad Fred is on the mend.

(chuckles) Thank you, Mr. Farebrother.

Good.

Good.

- Truly? - On the mend.

If I can only see my boy strong again,

perhaps master of Stone Court,

and he can marry who he likes then.

Not if they won’t have me, mother.

How can you say that when you know everybody thinks the world of you?

Not everybody, mother.

Some people have more sense than you do.

This is a very interesting story here –

I’ve marked the place for you.

And...

oh, this is a capital bit of verse.

It starts there and I marked that for you too.

- Player #1: Play a card – - Player #2: Sorry, what?

(chatter continues)

I think my Ned has set his heart on Miss Vincy.

I wish that something could be settled there soon.

Yes, indeed.

Though I’m afraid she often has notions of her own.

But then she was raised in such a thoughtless manner.

Her mother has that levity about her

which makes me anxious for her children.

Oh, it is pride in Miss Vincy, for sure.

There’s no young man in Middlemarch who’s good enough for her, it seems.

I think the honorable Mrs. Stevens is something like you.

Do you think so?

Her back is very large, I should have thought.

Ah, but I didn’t say

she was as beautiful as you are.

Oh, Mr. Plymdale.

I suspect you of being an accomplished flatterer.

Ned: No, indeed, Miss Vincy...

- in fact – - Lydgate: Good evening.

What a latecomer you are. I’d almost given you up.

I’m glad that Fred is feeling better.

Yes, he’s going on well, but slowly.

Good evening.

- How are you? - Oh, I never vary.

We have looked to Dr. Lydgate

as our guardian angel during Fred’s illness.

Pritchard, could we have a cup of punch for Dr. Lydgate?

Good God!

What are you laughing at so profanely?

I don’t know which is the sillier -

this engraving here or the writing that accompanies it.

It’s really splendidly idiotic.

There are a great many celebrated people writing in that keepsake

at all events, sir.

This is the first time I’ve ever heard it called –

silly.

Excuse me.

- Player: Vincy? - Vincy, play the game.

I was distracted for a moment.

I should just go have a word with him.

You do not see that you have given offense?

What? Is it Mr. Plymdale’s book? I’m sorry, I didn’t think.

You are like a bear. You don’t know your own strength,

or your power to hurt.

Do you remember when you first came here you said you were a bear?

And that you wanted teaching by the birds?

There’s is one bird I’d very willingly be taught by.

And tamed?

(chuckles)

Rosamond, your aunt Bulstrode is here.

Good morning, aunt.

Rosamond,

Mr. Bulstrode and I have heard something about you

which has surprised us very much indeed...

that you are secretly engaged to Dr. Lydgate.

No, I’m not engaged, aunt.

How is it that everyone says so then?

It’s the town’s talk.

The town’s talk is of very little consequence.

Dr. Lydgate is very clever

and your uncle finds him useful,

but it’s a poor profession.

He’s not paid for his work at the hospital

and you are not in a position to marry a poor man.

You’ve no fortune of your own, my dear.

Now, Rosamond,

Mr. Plymdale is a nice young man, I’ve always thought...

and an only son and the heir to a great business.

Surely, you would not think of giving your heart

to a man without a decided prospect?

I shall never give my heart to Mr. Ned Plymdale.

and Dr. Lydgate is not a poor man,

he has very high connections.

I see how it is, my dear.

You have allowed your affections to become engaged without return.

No, indeed, aunt, I have not!

- Rosy, Rosy. - Mama!

(sobbing)

How is your new hospital?

Everything I hoped for, near enough.

You must come and see for yourself.

I wouldn’t want to put Tyke’s nose out of joint

so soon after his appointment,

but I might take you up on it one day.

I was thinking of looking in on Vincy later, what about you?

Not tonight.

I think my patient can survive a night without me.

I’ve been neglecting my studies lately.

You’re going to get yourself lashed to the mast and stop up your ears.

If you don’t want to be won by the sirens, you’re wise to take precautions.

I’m in no danger there, I assure you.

Rosamond Vincy is an enchanting girl –

sweet, docile,

everything about her full of grace and delicacy.

If I were thinking of marriage, I’d snap her up this instant, but I’m not,

not for a long while yet.

I mean to establish myself properly before I look for a bride.

Hmm. In my experience,

when a man’s seen a woman he likes as much as that,

his remaining a bachelor will depend on her resolution rather than his.

Very good, but not true in this case.

- No? - Absolutely not.

In five years time I might be looking for a wife,

but do you know my real passion?

- What? - Medicine, science, knowledge.

If I could reveal something of the primitive tissue that underlies all life –

you, me, a songthrush, Rosamond Vincy –

that’s what excites me, Farebrother.

- Have you told her this? - No, of course not, she’s a woman.

You don’t talk about primitive tissue when you’re talking to a woman.

Brooke’s voice: “I very much regret these circumstances,

“Mr. Ladislaw,

“as I was looking forward myself

“to making your closer acquaintance.

“I have been thinking

“of taking a more active part

“in the political life of the county,

“and to that end, acquiring one of the local newspapers.

“I should have welcomed the opportunity of consulting you

“in this matter.

“If you are anywhere near the county,

“I would be most happy to welcome you as my guest,

“when we might discuss matters

“very much to our mutual advantage.”

Ah, Dr. Lydgate!

- Sorry I’m late. - Not at all.

It’s good of you to spare the time.

May we talk as we walk?

What are your intentions towards my niece Miss Rosamond Vincy?

My intentions?

I suppose my intentions are to continue a very pleasant acquaintanceship.

And nothing more?

Nothing more.

May I suggest to you,

with the very greatest respect,

that a man of your exceptional abilities should hesitate

before engrossing the whole attention

and endangering the marriage prospects of a vulnerable young girl

for the mere pleasure of the moment.

I’ve not the slightest intention, sir, of engrossing Miss Vincy’s whole attention,

or endangering her prospects of marriage.

May I, with utmost humility,

suggest that you moderate your attendance upon Miss Vincy?

Allow her other admirers

a little more opportunity of engaging her attention?

You may suggest that, sir, if you feel is it your place to do so.

I do, Dr. Lydgate. Please, do not take offense.

You know I think highly of you and wish you to prosper here.

I think you will concede I have already been of some assistance to you.

(women whispering)

Yes. Yes, of course.

I wish only to help you avoid a painful misunderstanding.

(whispering continues)

You should go fishing, Casaubon,

or have a turning room – make toys and table legs, that kind of thing.

Or get Dorothea to read to you, something light.

She may read anything she likes now she’s married.

Smollett, for instance. he made me laugh uncommonly once.

Bit about a postillion’s breeches.

In short, sir, you recommend me

to anticipate the arrival of my second childhood.

You heard Dr. Lydgate himself say that

fresh air and exercise will help you mend all the more quickly.

- Don’t nag, mother. - And the sooner you’re well enough

to go to Stone Court again the better. And you too, Rosamond –

- your poor uncle is weaker by the minute. - Dr. Lydgate?

Mrs. Vincy: Get your greatcoat on then.

You have become quite a stranger recently.

Yes, Fred, as you see, is well on the mend.

There have been other calls upon my time.

Do you find Mrs. Casaubon very handsome?

I suppose she is very handsome.

- But I have not thought about it. - No.

I suppose that would be unprofessional.

How your practice is growing.

First the Chettams, now the Casaubons.

It’s no wonder that you have no time for us.

You mistake me. I would rather attend to the poor at the hospital.

There’s more chance of doing good, and one has to listen to less nonsense.

And you must excuse me now. I am bidden to –

I’m bidden to Stone Court and then to the hospital.

Goodbye.

(latch clicks)

Ooh.

(voices overlapping)

Featherstone: Out, Solomon, out the pair of you!

- Will you get out?! - There are things you might repent of, brother,

the Almighty knows what things.

Then he knows better than I do.

Out you go, both of you, out.

Brother, when you lie speechless,

you may be tired of having strangers about you.

And you may think of me and my children –

I shan’t. I shan’t think of any of you, I’ve made my will.

I shan’t think of any of you. Out you go, out!

Some people would be ashamed to fill up a place belonging by rights to others.

Oh, no, sister, we must be humble.

And let smart folk push themselves before us.

- Shall my mother and I leave, sir? - Well no, no.

Sit down and stop where you are.

You two out! Out!

- Out! - I shall be downstairs, brother.

I shall do my duty and I pray that the Almighty –

Out! Out! Downstairs with you! Out!

(piano playing)

Sorry.

Lydgate: You call yourself a raw country girl.

Mrs. Bulstrode: Dr. Lydgate is very clever.

I found some charms in Middlemarch –

- greater than I expected. - a poor profession –

You’ve no fortune of your own, my dear.

...won’t think of giving your heart to a man without prospects.

I’ve made up my mind to take Middlemarch as it comes.

You mistake me, I’d rather attend to the poor at the hospital.

...allow your affections to become engaged.

...more chance of doing good and one has to listen to less nonsense.

Nonsense... Nonsense... Nonsense.

You did well to send for me, Mary.

He’s a good deal weaker.

Dr. Lydgate, what if he were to die now

without his loved ones at his side?

Mr. Vincy must come to him. but how can he be fetched?

- Oh, what are we to do? - Nothing easier, Mrs. Vincy,

I’m returning directly to Middlemarch.

I can take word to Mr. Vincy.

Oh, Dr. Lydgate, that is good of you.

He’s sleeping very comfortably now.

Oh, Dr. Lydgate, come in.

Let me take your bag.

Maid: It’s Dr. Lydgate, ma’am.

I’m come –

I’m come with a message for Mr. Vincy.

He is at the warehouse.

Yes, of course, what a fool I am.

- I shall go there directly. - (sobbing)

- What’s the matter? - (whimpers)

Please.

Please, tell me.

Oh, I’m so unhappy.

I’ve tried not to be, but...

if I am never to see you,

if you do not care about me at all, then...

there is nothing in my life

that is worth living for.

And you don’t.

You don’t care about me at all.

And I’ll –

Miss Vincy,

Rosamond, please don’t cry.

Please.

Let me...

Then you do,

then you do care about me after all.

More than anyone.

I want you to be my wife.

Oh.

Oh, I’m so happy!

I’m so happy.