All language subtitles for Middlemarch (1994) part 2

(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.