All language subtitles for Parades End 2012 E02 720p BluRay HEVC x265 BONE_Track03

Sylvia.

Good of you to come yourself.

You don't know.

I'm so sorry, Christopher.

There was a telegram from the office
from Macmaster.

Your mother died yesterday.

I did not expect it quite yet.

I killed your mother.

She died of a broken heart
because l left you.

No, she didn't.

Then it was because l asked you
to take me back.

My mother died from a medical condition,
not a literary convention.

I suppose it's all over town
that I went off with Potty Perowne.

I told Vincent Macmaster.
No one else knows.

That was nearish, though.

Oh, Christopher,
has it been awful for you?

It is thought that you went abroad
to look after your mother.

You will get your own back.
Only I wish you wouldn't do it...

...by punishing me
with your meal sack Anglican sainthood.

Give me Father Consett any day.

He called me a harlot and refused
to shake my hand till he confessed me.

Father Consett is here?

I showed him your telegram.

I want him to know
your condition for taking me back...

...is to have your son
damned for all eternity.

If it bothers you so much.

Thank you.

I saw Gerald Drake somewhere...

...and I thought, "What a brute.

How would l possibly have?"

Pretty box, though.

CONSETT: The pictures no doubt belong
to the hotel's former existence.

Was it an abattoir?

GLORVINA:
So very sad. ln the midst of life.

Oh, here we are.

There is a night express. You're right.

Wagons-lits, dining car...

...and you'll be at Groby
with a day to spare before the funeral.

A public appearance together
couldn't be more timely.

My cousin Westershire
got wind of something...

...and I was forced to lie to him.

As head of the family,
the duke takes it personally...

...when lives become untidy.

I'm not going back to Christopher
if l have to be in bed by 9:00.

My own bed, I mean, of course.

This was the last place Christianized
in Europe.

The old pagan demons
are still at their work.

The sooner you're away from here, sooner
you'll not have such wicked thoughts.

They're yours, not mine.

I meant my own bed
as distinct from my husband's.

Father Consett and l will return at leisure
by road.

He has business in Berlin.

Irish business?

Now, why would you think that?

I will not interfere in your social life.
But our old life, with a town house...

...to keep up and entertain in...

...I could not accept your generosity
as before.

-We're not going to live in Yorkshire.
-Macmaster has found a flat...

...across the way from his rooms
in Gray's lnn.

A flat in Holborn?

I couldn't have imagined
anything more humiliating.

It is supposed to be a penance,
not a reward.

-You mind your own business.
-Your soul is my business.

GLORVINA:
But my dear boy...

...the whole world will understand exactly
what we've managed to keep from it.

You would not be the first landowner
to give up a house...

...in protest against the new tax.

The duke would applaud you.

I shouldn't wonder if he lends you
the Westershire box at the opera.

I've never heard such bosh.

I will be in my room praying for death.

Or at least packing for it.

Would you send me your maid?

I'd better go myself.

Sylvia hit my maid with a hairbrush,
and I only borrowed her.

I don't want to return her damaged.

CONSETT:
Now, then, Christopher...

...your son is Roman Catholic-born
and that's the fact of the matter.

But Michael will grow up with my sister's
children in an Anglican parsonage...

...and the facts must jostle as they may.

[SPEAKS lN GAELlC]

By the way,
your Republican friends should know...

...Germany is looking for war
and will find a reason for one...

...probably in the next two years,
so don't fill your dance card in Berlin.

Damnable business.

Do you want a pipe?

Thank you, no.

Oh.

Oh, there's a boy
I'm putting through Eton.

Gilbert Wannop's boy.

For old times' sake.

Eton and then his father's old college.

Nothing in writing.

But, uh...

...you'll see to it if it comes to that.

Of course, Father.

-My God, she looks like--
-Yes, sir.

CLAUDlNE:
It doesn't do...

...stealing the show
from her mother-in-law.

The cedar will have to come down
before it knocks over the house.

Father would sooner take down the house.
Young men and maidens...

...have made their marriage vows under
the Groby Tree for longer than memory.

If Mark won't do it,
it'll have to wait for Michael, then.

CHRISTOPHER:
Michael.

MAN:
That's a good boy. Come on.

CHRISTOPHER:
I want you to meet a new friend. Clio.

Don't be frightened.

Come say hello.

There, you see?

She won't bite.

Has he stopped wetting the bed?

Oh, yes, sir.

It just needed a little firmness.

I remember, Marchie.

Your bath, madam.

Do you know, Evie, there isn't
a water closet in the whole damn house?

I got a flea in my ear.

No ashtrays either.

The master's orders.

Thank you.

-Are they looking after you?
-Yessum.

Mr. Jenkins the butler chose me
to sit next to him at lunch...

...on account of your turnout.

First hobble skirt at Groby.

They've only seen them
in the picture papers.

I rang down for a housemaid.
I won't have you emptying chamber pots.

Here.

CHRISTOPHER: May I speak with my wife?
EVIE: She's in her dressing room, sir.

Oh, it's all right.
You can come in here.

I'm sorry. l didn't....

Effie is waiting with her family
to go home.

You'll want to say goodbye to Michael.

Yes. Yes, of course.

[SlGHS]

She took the towel.

Oh, go away if you can't bear to look.
Heh.

Higher than the beasts,
lower than the angels...

...stuck between the two
in our idiot's Eden.

God, I'm so bored of it all,
guarding or granting admission...

...to a temple no decent butcher
would give room to on his offal tray.

I'd rather be a cow in a field.

Ask someone to bring Michael to me,
will you, please?

I'll bring him.

You're hurting yourself for no reason
keeping the boy in Yorkshire.

I'm going to live chaste
just because l want to.

It'll be Swedish exercises
and occasional retreats. Heh.

Father Consett knows a convent
where you can bring your own maid.

[SlGHS]

A suite.

But, darling...

...what does one do here
a whole weekend?

SYLVlA:
I don't think that's an ashtray.

No, I don't think Johnny would wear it.
He'd just look at me...

...as if I'd gone off to Maidenhead
with someone, and we both knew it.

I've had some rotten times
at Maidenhead.

Evie, would you take
Mrs. Pelham's cigarette outside...

-...and put it somewhere?
EVIE: Yes, madam.

So she does have a name.

SYLVlA:
It was decent of you to come with me...

...but, um, l don't know why.

I don't believe my retreat can begin
until you go.

I bet you'll be on the up-train tomorrow.

Not enough men here.

If there's one thing
that drove me out of London...

...it's the way I can't enter a room
without all the little women...

...instantly cleaving to their men
as though to say, "Hands off."

And then hating me all the more
when they realize...

...I have no use
for their treasured rubbish.

No more he and she for me.

I owe it to myself
to be fair to Christopher.

He's up in Yorkshire again
seeing Michael.

The move to Gray's lnn
has been a success.

He knows his stuff
with furniture and pictures.

He'll walk into a saleroom and sniff out
what everybody else has missed.

He just knows everything.

Of course, he wants to make me suffer.

What man wouldn't?

Oh, I'll make him realize his failure
by living with him in perfect good humor.

And then one day...

...after a whiskey or two....

He must want to sometimes.

Why...

...you're soppy about him.

[CHATTERING]

Can someone tell me why l am here...

...watching the ruling class
in its death throes?

-Where else would you be?
-I would be at a lecture...

...on lmperialism: Last Stage of Capitalism
at Working Men's College in Camberwell.

Since you're here, why don't you
introduce us to your friends?

Because both my friends
are at the lecture.

You should go
to Working Man's College in Camberwell...

...in September instead of Oxford.

Some of us are working to destroy
the citadels of privilege from within.

Well, that's lucky for some of us.

Oh. Well done, Val.

[ALL APPLAUDlNG]

You beastly little show-off.

Of course, it had to be Miss Wannop.

General, are we on speaking terms?

You still owe me £50 for driving your motor
into my mare last year.

Tietjens had his rig
on the wrong side of the road...

-...that's what.
-Tietjens?

[WHlNNIES]

So it was him driving your rig
at daybreak.

Good morning, Lady Claudine.

Actually, it was partly the fog and partly
that your brother didn't sound his horn.

I was a witness.

A witness indeed. So was l.

[HORN HONKS]

A witness to what, I wouldn't know.

Do excuse me.

-I've just been complaining about you.
-Good Lord.

Why? What have l done?

Your lot, l mean.

Some of us have had to rusticate ourselves
for the season.

My milliner has let go three of her girls...

...and it serves you right
if you lose the footman vote too.

MAN:
Oh, Miss Wannop.

Do you know Mrs. Satterthwaite?

-How do you do?
-She's our friend Tietjens', uh, mother-in-law.

SATTERTHWAlTE:
Oh, is that my fame?

-You know Christopher?
-Hardly.

But l did meet Mr. Tietjens last year in Rye.
I haven't seen him since.

Actually, this tea is for my mother, and I
mustn't inflict myself on Mr. Waterhouse...

...with my inferior mind and my general
incapacity for anything much...

...except motherhood,
so if you'll excuse me.

That's not at all what l'm--

Oh, that's my first suffragette.

SANDBACH:
Got it.

You're Tietjens' feminist.

If you're thinking
of starting something...

...I have a good mind
to smack your bare bottom.

I'm sure you think of little else.

You have a nerve
showing your face here.

I know you're Teitjens' whore.

You're gasping for it,
you militant bitches.

How dare you say something...

...about a man
you're not fit to serve as a boot boy?

About him?

Good God, the girl's in love.

MRS. WANNOP:
I wanted to write about the Women's Bill...

...but the editor said,
"Oh, dear Mrs. Wannop...

...our readers already know
the lords are going to chuck it back.

What they have no grasp of
is the Balkan crisis."

Where did you get all this from?

-Christopher Tietjens.
-Oh, you spoke to Mr. Tietjens?

Is he an expert on the Balkan situation?

I suppose he is.

MRS. WANNOP: Because his father
boodled me into this job in the first place...

...having shares in the paper...

...it would reflect very badly on him...

...if l were to make a bish of this article.

Not to mention losing five guineas
a week.

Oh, bother it.

I meant to say
that Serbia has no more right...

...to demand access to the sea
than Berkshire. Christopher, of course.

Well, it's men waving their spears.

As if war were only about maps.

Now, time's up.
I'm expected with Mrs. Duchemin.

So it's in the box.

BISHOP: I don't wish
to come between a country parson...

...albeit a gentleman of means,
to say the least...

...and one moreover...

...with a distinguished association
with a great university.

REVEREND:
Breakfast Duchemin of Cambridge.

Between even such a man...

-...and the organ of the parish.
-Organ?

What?

You refer to my organ?

No.

Yes, l refer to the parish magazine.

Of course.

[DOOR CLOSES]

I think it's going to be all right.
He had a cooked breakfast, thank God.

It's the fasting that brings it on.

But the parish magazine is not,
self-evidently, the appropriate platform...

...from which to condemn
restrictive female undergarments...

...as being a danger
to the sexual health of our women.

You think so?

EDlTH: Oh, it's sweet of you
to come and hold my hand.

Edith, are you sure you're safe here?

There's nothing to be done.

-I just run a bath and think of Browning.
-Drowning?

The poet Browning.

And the Rossettis.

Mr. Macmaster has taken
to coming down at the weekends...

...to talk to my husband
about the poets he knew in his young days.

I'd like you to know
Mr. Macmaster better.

He has opened worlds to me.

I have the honor of receiving for him...

...on what are becoming known
as Macmaster Fridays.

We might find a little job for you
behind the tea table.

What do you think?

-Well, I think....
EDlTH: Vincent--

Mr. Macmaster has rooms in Gray's lnn.

Right across from some people you know,
I think.

Mr. and Mrs. Tietjens.

Does he?

Oh, my dear.

His Grace was most complimentary
about the Lapsang souchong.

He enjoys the aroma of smoke.

Thank you. Delightful.

I do hope your little convocation,
should l call it, was--

Oh, indeed. Yes.

Sweetness and light.

All well.

I hadn't dared hope.

[SNIFFING]

What is it, dear?

Sulfur.

Can't you smell it?

Brimstone.

I smelled him out the minute he came in.

-Who, dear?
-Beelzebub.

[DUCHEMIN CHUCKLlNG]

He thought I was taken in.

You remember Miss Wannop.

-He takes a pleasing shape.
EDlTH: l've been telling Miss Wannop...

...about Mr. Macmaster's circle
of beautiful intellect.

All devoted to the higher things.

But l was ready for him.

Beauty, truth...

...the shepherd's pipe, the gem-like flame,
the wine-dark sea.

Lord...

...your servant slept
when your handmaiden...

...was taken into bondage with a corset.

-But he wakes now.
EDlTH: The beautiful soul.

Souls in harmony
with our little gathering of the finer minds.

Quite the finest, really.

The very best young writers and artists.

And cast out the devil's new contraption,
the brassiere and all the swaddling...

...and strapping that constricts...

...the freely-flowing and God-glorifying
bounty of belly and breast...

-...of the airy buttock--
-Why, Mr. Duchemin, you're one of us.

All we new women
are united against the corset.

It is the very devil.

You must write an article for our paper.

How splendid.

[THUDS]

CAMPlON:
Sylvia. Good morning.

-Merry Christmas.
-Merry Christmas, general.

-You don't know my ADC, Major Perowne.
-Of course, l do.

-Merry Christmas, Potty.
-Potty?

You've been keeping that one
under your hat, Peter.

-Merry Christmas.
CAMPlON: Now, look here.

I want to talk to that husband of yours.
Where is he?

-What has he done?
-Never you mind. But you can tell him...

...the war office wants the entire
Department of Statistics lined up and shot.

[LAUGHS]

He's in Yorkshire over the New Year
with his sister's family.

[BELL TOLLS]

[UPBEAT MUSlC PLAYlNG]

[ALL CHEERING]

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year, Marchant.

MARCHANT: Happy New Year.
EFFlE: Happy New Year.

-Happy New Year.
-Happy New Year.

-Happy New Year. Happy New Year.
-Happy New Year.

Well, it's up the stairs to Bedfordshire
for me.

-Good night, sir.
EFFlE: Good night, Marchie.

You'll look in on Michael?

[ALL CHATTERING]

MAN:
Dory!

I go back to town tomorrow
to face the warmongers.

Are they after your blood?

No one was counting in the cost of losing
our export trade to the continent.

Do you think there will be a war?

If Germany puts it off much longer...

...Russia will have enough railway
to put her army on the frontier in 20 days.

The Germans are in a panic.

It will take them twice that long
to beat France.

And they don't want to be fighting
on two fronts.

Goodness.
The things you chaps in London know.

Mm.

BROWNLlE: Would you like me to come
and tuck you up?

SYLVlA: No, thank you very much.
BROWNLlE: lt's only for a minute.

SYLVlA:
No, Brownlie.

BROWNLlE: Dash it, Sylvia.
SYLVlA: Happy New Year.

[FLOOR CREAKS]

Darling?

Christopher?

I hope you had a lovely evening, madam.
Happy New Year.

What are you doing waiting up?
Go to bed.

Well, now you're here....

[SlGHS]

PROTESTOR 1 :
Shame on the lords!

[ALL SHOUTlNG]

PROTESTORS [lN UNISON]:
Votes for women! Votes for women!

What we want is equality!

PROTESTOR 2:
Freedom for women is not a crime!

Clear off!

PROTESTOR 3:
Votes for women!

GUARD: Get back. You can't come up here.
Move back, please.

Votes for women!

VALENTlNE: Stand up for your rights.
-You can't do that here.

Be off with you now.

Well, it's open to the public
and we are the public.

MAN:
No, you don't.

No.

Nobody gets in. No.

What are you gawping at?

Do you think that is all women
are good for?

Hey! What are you doing?

MAN 1 :
Madam, please. Please.

WOMAN 1 :
There's no need to manhandle me.

MAN 1 : Look out.
MAN 2: Put it-- Put it down.

There you are at last, Brownlie.

Dash it, Sylvia. l don't know
what you mean. l've been waiting ages.

I said let's meet at the Ritz.

Well, it's near the Ritz.

Don't sulk or I'll be sorry l came at all.

What shall I look at?

I don't much care for any of them.

They're well past if you ask me.

Past lmpressionism, you see?

They're called Past lmpressionists.

You stay with the banking, Brownlie,
that's what I advise.

Aren't they?

I might buy one to annoy Christopher.

Oh, well, l'm all for that.

I'll buy it for you...

...if you stop being so cruel to me.

Yes.

Where did you find this?

In Dover Street.

I've no doubt it's young Tom Girtin...

...on one of his topographical tours
in the 1 790s.

You must have it in your bedroom.

Now l'm hurt.

Oh?

No. No, l like it very much.

Breakfast room, then.

Yes.

Perhaps.

I'll leave it for you.

-Good night.
-Good night.

CHRISTOPHER: You would marry
Mrs. Duchemin, of course...

-...if she were free?
MACMASTER: Yes.

CHRISTOPHER: Why doesn't she have
her husband certified?

MACMASTER:
Well, she's loyal.

-You find that contradictory?
-No, I don't.

No disrespect, surely a better reason...

...is the lunacy commissioners
would hold the purse strings.

-Whereas, as things are....
-I wanted to ask your advice.

Suppose she lent me the money.

Only a thousand or two.

I want to live in a manner worthy of Edith,
naturally.

Chrissie, it's only timing.
The money will come to her in the end.

-What's the difference?
-None...

...except as to how you are perceived
as a gentleman.

Don't touch the Duchemins' money.
I'll give you what you need.

-Chrissie.
-It's of no consequence.

I came into some funds from my mother.
Rather a lot by my standards.

Chrissie, it would be a loan.

I'm afraid l never lend money.

-I won't take it otherwise.
-Think of it as you wish.

Come up. I'll write you a check.

Thank you, Chrissie.

I am about to be handing out
sums of money too.

Small sums
from the Royal Literary Fund.

Some poor beggar
has to supervise the disbursements...

...and the King's Gold Stick
of the Bedchamber or some such...

...liked my little book on Browning.

You'll be on the honors list
soon enough.

Do you think so?

Oh, Chrissie,
I wish you'd come to one of my Fridays.

I wouldn't wanna be rude
to your aesthetes.

You know, I'm taking August in Scotland
this year.

What about you?

Sylvia's accepted to join the duke's
house party at his place in Northumberland.

You remember telling me once,
two years ago at Rye...

...we'd be at war about the time
the grouse shooting began in 1 914?

Time's running out.

Yes, l'm afraid so.

Make the most of Scotland.

And do be circumspect.

I know what it is that makes a man
want to go away with a woman he likes.

But that desire, which is to be allowed
to finish his conversations with her...

...must be resisted.

Oh, Chrissie.

What you know.

[MACMASTER CHUCKLES]

Opened the car door for the lady wife,
I don't think.

COMMISSlONAlRE:
Welcome.

DRlVER:
Oh, thank you, sir.

WOMAN:
Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Macmaster, is it?

Welcome.

-Oh, thank you, sir.
MACMASTER: Thank you.

You will, of course, let Mrs. McKenzie know
if you need anything.

They know. They know.

Oh, no, they don't.

Darling. Darling, it will be all right.

We've dreamed of this.

To be away together.

Lock the door.

Darling.

Oh, no, no. Don't mess up the bed.

[EDITH GASPING]

EDlTH:
My love!

CAMPlON:
Are you expecting a good season?

MAN:
Yes. Plenty of birds.

[BARKING]

[MlMlCS GUNSHOTS]

Won't be long now, eh? Ha-ha-ha.

[DOG BARKlNG]

[LAUGHlNG]

[CHATTERING]

GLORVINA:
No good asking me.

Bertram says Asquith and Lord Grey
never discuss war in cabinet.

Not in front of the children.

[LAUGHlNG]

-The cabinet talks about women.
SATTERTHWAlTE: Women?

-Oh, women.
GLORVINA: Women in lreland.

Mother's priest
has turned her Republican.

That's just Sylvia pulling the strings
of the shower bath.

What war, Glorvina?
It isn't going to be our war.

If it had been us
and a tin-pot country like Serbia...

-...we'd have declared war three weeks ago.
SANDBACH: Exactly.

What are the Austrians waiting for?

Assurance that Russia won't come in
on the Serbian side.

Russia's waiting for assurance
Germany won't come on the Austrian side.

There you are. No stomach for a fight.

There's not going to be any war.

This isn't our own chutney.

Why are they all in--?
What's frightening them?

They're all in a panic.

Up there, look.

It's a fish eagle.

Not even on duty.

Listen, Sylvia,
they're all living in cloud cuckoo land.

I want to see Michael
before we find ourselves on a train south.

A fish eagle. What?

The Germans are itching
to get at the Russians.

France will declare war on Germany,
that's what the French-Russian pact is for.

Then it's us.
Germany will invade through Belgium.

If you don't stop, l'm going to jump.

Britain is committed
to defend Belgian neutrality.

That's what I'd like to come back as.

A fish eagle.

[CHATTERING]

[EDITH GIGGLlNG]

BISHOP:
I say...

...isn't that...?

Mrs. Duchemin.

[EDITH SOBBING]

We're not leaving here together, you oaf.

Yes, but how--?

How will you...?

MACMASTER:
Chrissie, thank God you're here.

Your telegram bounced.

I was in Yorkshire. What's happened?

Edith will explain on the train.
I won't forget today in a hurry.

Well, none of us will. Haven't you heard?

We're at war with Germany.

[WHlMPERlNG]

[EDITH SOBS]

Well, the French are saying
we're not pulling our weight.

The prime minister wishes to show that when
measured against respective populations...

...of single men of fighting age
and suchlike...

...that our contribution
compares very favorably to the French.

Does it?

This document lumps together
72 battalions of Kitchener's volunteers...

...who aren't even on the Western Front
because they're still in training.

But a million men under arms
committed to the fight.

This is all about who's in control
of strategy, l suppose.

Our masters take the view...

...that the Western Front
must be under dual command...

...not, repeat, not under a single command
which would mean French command...

-...obviously.
-Why would it mean that, sir, obviously?

You were supposed to be clever.

The French army is 1 0 times the size
of the British army.

The war is being fought on French soil,
not British soil.

Because....

Now, look here, Tietjens,
I took you for a sound man.

This department exists to show as there
are different ways to put things in words...

...there are different ways
to put things in numbers.

I detest and despise the work
I am asked to do in the department...

...whose purpose seems to be
to turn statistics into sophistry.

I am resigning. Good morning.

Resigning?
Don't you want to be a man of influence?

No. I'd prefer to be in the trenches.

[DOOR SLAMS]

MRS. WANNOP:
Oh, God, give me the strength...

...to strangle the Kaiser
with my bare hands.

EDWARD:
You innocent!

It's the soldiers who betrayed the cause!

-You are talking rubbish.
-Class traitors. The German socialists too.

Voting for war like lickspittle lackeys.

VALENTlNE: Stop it! Stop it!
-Absolutely not.

I hope they die
with blood spouting out of their lungs.

[PHONE RINGlNG]

-I thought you were a pacifist.
-Yes, l refuse to fight.

Let the guilty get what they deserve.

MRS. WANNOP:
You are a lily-livered coward.

EDWARD:
As for you, l hope both sides...

-...rape every woman they can get.
MRS. WANNOP: What?

Edith?

I thought of you because you're mixed in
with the kind of woman who--

What is it? What can l do?

How do you get rid of a baby?

Mr. Duchemin?

Hasn't he--?

Duchemin's been in the asylum
for months...

...and I'm caught by that jumped-up son
of an Edinburgh fishwife...

...who didn't know his business better
than to--

You mean Mr. Macmaster?

I never dreamt.

What did you think we were doing?
Comparing our beautiful souls?

Well, yes, that is what l thought.

And poetry.

Edith, your prince, your chevalier.

That guttersnipe
shooting off like a tomcat in heat.

Don't, Edith.

I know when it was.

I suppose you must.

When what was?

Valentine, you do know
how babies are made, don't you?

Of course, l do.

But do you mean...?

You mean you can do it
without making a baby?

Oh, go home, you goose.

I'm sorry.

[SOBBlNG]

I'm so pointless.

Everything is--

Everything is so horrible.

Beastliness everywhere...

...and I live like an ant.

But l thought at least there was you
living for love.

Someone rising clear above the muck
for me...

...reaching for beautiful things.

And loving and being loved.

Now there's no one left...

...and nothing.

[SOBBlNG]

CHRISTOPHER: Christopher Tietjens
to see General Campion.

MAN 1 : This way, sir.
MAN 2: Follow me, sir.

CAMPlON:
After which...

...the adjutant
will stand the battalion at ease...

...and the band
will play "Land of Hope and Glory."

[KNOCKS ON DOOR]

Sit down, Chrissie, you damned fool.

Then the adjutant will call out:

"There will be no more parades"...

...and, "Fall out," and so on.
Try that on them.

I'm supposed to invent a ceremonial
for disbanding the Kitchener battalions.

Disbanding?

Well, we don't want them
clogging up the army when the war is over.

Don't hitch your wagon to me
if you want to see fighting.

You can see where my opinions
have got me.

The single command business.

That's what did it for me at the office.

But what the hell has it got to do
with you?

And now you think you'll be some use
as a soldier.

Have you told Sylvia?

Not yet.

She'll say the same thing as you,
I suppose.

Well, I think you're a fool.

The office is going to get me out anyway.
Too many black marks against me.

Go, then.
Add your little bit to the suffering.

Even if it's only your own.

I can't sleep in the night now
because pain is worse in the dark.

It spreads into every corner.

Black like ink.

Printer's ink.

Newspapers dripping hate and lies
every day.

No, don't touch me now
when it's too late.

I'm going across to tell Macmaster.

Yes, do.

You're such a paragon
of honorable behavior, Christopher.

You're the cruelest man I know.

[CHATTERING]

FEMALE GUEST 1 :
At times like this...

...one realizes no one has ever,
ever captured grief...

...like Michelangelo and his Pietà.

Unhappily, she looks like Stravinsky
and he like Isadora.

[BOTH LAUGHlNG]

Miss Wannop.

Mr. Tietjens.

MACMASTER:
Tietjens.

CHRISTOPHER:
Oh, hello, Vinnie.

I forgot it was a Friday.
I had something to tell you.

Well, people will be leaving soon.

I'll talk to Miss Wannop meanwhile,
though she's not pleased to see me.

Look, the war has turned her against men
as a sex.

[LAUGHS]

First, you must greet Edith.

Is everything all right now?

The bishop turned out to be a Christian.

He knew Duchemin
was a dangerous lunatic.

Is your abortionist here?
I'd like to kiss her.

MACMASTER:
Guggums. Look who's come.

CHRISTOPHER: Mrs. Duchemin.
EDlTH: Mr. Tietjens.

MACMASTER:
Ah. Chrissie, come and be introduced.

This is Tietjens...

...the star of our department.

I share rooms with your brother Mark.

Really? You must be the new lodger.

Miss Wannop, come to the fire
and tell me why you won't talk to me.

What is that smell? Do you know?

Chinese incense sticks.

Hmm.

So those were the geniuses.

Well, who am I to judge?

That man over there isn't a genius.

His name is Ruggles.

Something to do with handing out honors
at the palace.

Macmaster's got his ear.

Oh, they're perfectly proper.
The only clean way. British way.

Well, I came over to tell Macmaster
I'm joining the army.

I hoped we respected each other at least.

I tremendously respect you...

...and I hoped...

...you'd respect me too.

You don't respect me?

Well, I would have liked you
to have said it.

What difference does it make
when there's all this pain...

...this torture?

I haven't slept a whole night since.

I believe pain and fear must be worse
at night.

Dear.

So queer.

My wife used...

...almost exactly the words you used
not an hour ago.

She too said
that she couldn't respect me.

We have to do everything we can
not to lose our men, don't you see?

Besides, you know
you are more useful here.

They'll never have me back.

The sentimentalist
must be stoned to death.

He makes everyone uncomfortable.

You shouldn't be proud
of despising your country.

Don't believe that.

I love every field and hedgerow.

The land is England,
and, once, it was the foundation of order.

Before money took over and handed the
country over to the swindlers and schemers.

Toryism of the pig's trough.

Then what is your Toryism?

Duty.

Duty and service
to above and below. Frugality.

Keeping your word.

Honoring the past.

Looking after your people.

And beggaring yourself if need be
before letting duty go hang.

If we'd stayed out, I'd have gone
over to France to fight for France.

For agriculture against industrialism.

For the 1 8th century against the 20th
if you like.

Hoped you'd understand.

Oh, I understand you.

You're as innocent about yourself
as a child.

You would've thought the same things
in the 1 8th century.

Of course, l would.
And I would have been right.

[CHUCKLES]

But you do make one
collect one's thoughts.

Do you remember our ride in the mist?
What you said about me three years ago?

Well, I'm not that man now.

What? l can't remember.

I'm not an English country gentleman...

...who let the country go to hell
and never stirred himself except to say:

"l told you so."

Yes.

I said that.

I said you ought to be in a museum.

I think I wanted to provoke you
into bursting out of your glass cabinet.

Now it's a choice
between bad and worse.

Well, I have this big hulking body
to throw into the war.

Nothing much to live for.

Because...

...you know what I want, I can't have.

What is it I know?

What l stand for is gone.

But to live for.

You have something to live for.

What's that?

Why didn't you kiss me then?

Why didn't you?

[BOTH GASPlNG]

[EXPLOSlONS]

[EXPLOSlON]