All language subtitles for Upstairs Downstairs S01E13 For Love of Love WEB-DL DDP2 0 H 264-squalor (1)_track3_[eng]

(orchestral waltz music)

(door creaking)

(door thumping)

(door thumping)

- We'll just leave it for
the time being, Nelly.

(door thudding)

(door thudding)

- Where's Rose, Hudson?

- I gave her permission
to go off early, my lady.

She wanted to visit her aunt
who lives some distance away.

- I see, well, she should
really finish

her duties before she goes off.

- Yes, my lady.

Rose has been rather
upset recently, my lady.

- Yes, Hudson, we all have.

You were quite right
to let her go.

Coffee, James?

-[James] No, thank you,
Mother, I don't think so.

- Sir.
- Yes.

-[Lady Marjorie] Alright,
Hudson, thank you.

- My lady.

-[Lady Marjorie] Hudson?

- Yes, my lady?

- You don't think that Rose
knows where Miss Elizabeth is?

- Oh, no my lady.

If Rose knew such a thing,

I'm sure she wouldn't
keep it to herself.

-[Lady Marjorie] Thank
you, Hudson.

- My lady.

(door thudding)

- If she's not in a hotel,

and she's not with
friends, where can she be?

- I imagine she's with
her new friends.

- New friends?

- Do you mean those socialists?

- Well, they call themselves
Fabians.

- Oh, what's the difference?

- As I see the matter, James,

Fabians are better bred
and less realistic.

There's a little nest
of them at Cambridge

where they go on
midnight picnics

and patronize Keir Hardie.

- Oh, surely Elizabeth will
never be taken in by them.

- 'Tis awfully good
of you, Henrietta,

to take me in off the street.

Just think what might have
happened to me otherwise.

One more unfortunate,
weary of breath,

rashly importunate,
gone to her death.

- Take her up tenderly,
cherish her do,

You might pawn her watch
for a shilling or two.

- I never thought of pawning
my watch, what a good idea.

Henrietta, would you
like me to pawn my watch?

Then I'd be able to
pay you something.

- You're earning your
keep doing that.

Which is more than I
can say for Lawrence.

He isn't even earning his tea.

- Oh, what nonsense,
of course I am.

Unlike William Morris, I
believe in pure decoration.

This the the brave
new patent of life.

That women should work,
and men be just beautiful.

The overpowering ugliness
of this room

would quite dampen your
spirits if I were not here.

- I do hope that popping
these leaflets

through letter boxes
will convince people

more than if we post them.

- Most of them don't
want to be convinced.

- Oh, dear Henrietta,
you're the only one

with your feet on the ground.

Whatever would we
do without you?

- We should float up into
the air like thistledown.

Higher and higher and
higher with our voices

coming back like rather
tinny skylarks,

until at last we reach
the sun and then,

we all flare up in one
glorious conflagration.

It would almost be worth it.

- Yes, but it wouldn't do
the poor a scrap of good,

and that's what we're here for.

- Yes, of course, we are.

- Henrietta, as you're
the practical one,

do you think you could
see if Mrs. March

has forgotten about our tea?

- As usual.

- I have a yearning for hot

buttered toast that's
almost immoral.

(door thudding)

- I wish I were Henrietta.

She's always so sure
of everything.

- Aren't you sure of everything?

- I'm not sure of anything.

(bell ringing)

At least, I'm fairly sure of
things, but never of people.

- And I'm sure of people
and never of things.

- You didn't mean that.

You only said it 'cause
it was a good answer.

- You know, I sometimes think
that I don't mean anything.

- C'mon.

- Elizabeth, visitor for you.

- Rose!

Come in.

You know Mr. Lawrence Kerbridge.

Lawrence, you remember my
dear friend Rose, of course.

- Hotfoot from affluent
Eaton Place.

- I'd a got 'ere sooner,
Miss Elizabeth.

- Oh, don't call me that.

It sounds so ridiculous here.

- What shall I call you then?

- I don't know.

Elizabeth, I suppose.

Friends call each other
by their names.

- But I'm not your friend,

I'm your parents'
house parlor maid.

- Yes, but not here.

- Well, I'm not ashamed
of it, that's what I do.

I'm a house parlor maid.

- Rose believes in the truth.
- Aye?

- You believe in the truth.

- Yes, sir.

- Oh Rose, how ridiculous
you are.

As if it matters.

- I'll take that upstairs
and unpack it for you.

- Let me have a look.

Oh.

What's this?

Present?

- No, I had to stop and buy
you a hairbrush on the way.

Couldn't bring the one you
left on the dressing table.

- Rose, that's so clever.

I'll take it up to my
room and unpack it.

I've got a bedroom in the
attic that is just like yours.

- I'll take it for you,
Miss Elizabeth.

- No, I can manage,
it's not heavy.

- Lay all the things out.
I've pressed them all.

- Rose, will you sit down?

(Lawrence clearing throat)

- May I take your hat and coat.

- No, thank you.

- Well, uh, sit down, anyway.

- Thank you, sir.

- Tea will be here directly.

- Excuse me, sir?
- Yes?

- This place, is it a lodging?

- Yes, it is.

Miss Henrietta Winchmore,

the young lady who let you in,

lodges here, and Miss
Elizabeth is sharing with her.

- Oh.

- And I am staying with
friends at St. John's Wood.

But when they get
too dull to bear

for another minute,
I come round here.

- Oh, I see.

- You're quite wrong, you know.

- Wrong?
- Yes.

Miss Elizabeth really does
think of you as her friend.

- Yes, I know.

- Rose, I put my washing
in a case,

could you get it down for me
and bring it back next week?

- No, I'd have to get
it past Mr. Hudson.

I'd never manage that.

- Rose, you can manage anything.

(Rose gasping)

Oh, I'll do it myself, but
I've got so much work to do.

- What about my work?

- Oh, but this is real work.

- So is mine.

Feels real enough, anyhow.

And Mr. Hudson notices
when I don't get it done,

and so does her ladyship.

- Well, it may be real work,
but it's not for real people.

- (chuckles) Miss Elizabeth,
whatever d'ya mean by that?

- My parents aren't real people.

- Parents never are.

They're all sorts
of other things.

They're stupid.

And innocent.

And inquisitive, and
fact-fully faithful.

But they're not real.

You should never think of
parents as real people.

It only worries them
and confuses them.

- Exactly.

- Well, I'll see what I can do.

But it won't be easy.

What you doin' there, anyhow?

- We're changing the world.

- Ooh, I'm not sure
I want it changed.

- Oh, yes you do, Rose.

Really you do.

You want to change the law which
says being poor is a crime.

- A most important thing to
do will be to create a truly

noble relationship between
the people and the state.

So that the people
work devotedly

and honorably before the state,

and the state in turn loves
and cares for the people.

Just as we love and
care for each other.

- Oh, hot buttered toast
and Dundee cake!

Marvelous.

Take off your hat, Rose.

Sit down.

- Well, I could fancy
a cuppa tea.

- I don't understand
how she can be so cruel.

Not even to send a
word or a message.

Doesn't she know how we feel?

-[Richard] No, I don't
think she does.

- Nowadays, children
seem to think

their parents don't
feel anything.

Well, we should've been
firmer with her.

- Marjorie, Elizabeth
is over 21.

- Oh yes, if she
wants to go away,

frighten us all to death, and
cause so much unhappiness,

she has a perfect right (sobs).

- My dear.

My dear.

- It's my fault she's
no dignity.

Must be my fault that she
can treat us like this.

It must be.

- No, no.

- I better go and
change for dinner.

- I'm off, Father, have
you heard anything from...

- No, James, we haven't
heard anything.

- Aren't you dining
with us, James?

- No, not tonight, I'm
going to the music hall

and having supper with
a friend afterwards.

- Well, I hope you and
your friend enjoy the show.

- Who are you going to see?

- That new sensation in the
vaudeville, Sara Denise.

* Oh, what are we gonna
do with Uncle Arthur

* A blinking stallion,
is Uncle Arthur

* When he goes a-strolling
in the park

* Watch your step, girls,
especially after dark

* Any old skirt's a flirt
for Uncle Arthur

* He's over eighty,
but how he can run

* "Give us a kiss,
my dear," he'd say

* And tickle you up
the boom-di-ay,

* And say it was just
an 'armless bit

* A nice bruise on
your way is it

* Let me go, Uncle
Arthur, kind of fun

* What are we going to
do with Uncle Arthur

* 'ave him doctored

-[Audience] No!

* Like a tomcat

* No!

* You'd have thought by
now he'd has his fill

* But me aunt can't
bloody well keep him still

* Saturday night'll find
him at the boozer

* 'aving a quick one

* Then off he will pop

* Straighten his hat
and up the street

* As light as a feather
on his feet

* A dirty old man who
don't know when to stop

* I'm glad he's not the sort to

* Time for him to stop

* Oh, don't you let me
go, he's behind ya

(audience cheering
and whistling)

- Hello, Sarah.

- Hello.

(cheering and whistling
drowns out speakers)

- How 'bout that for
applause, aye?

- They're going mad.

- They always do
Saturday nights.

Mind you, most of them out there

recite the Lord's
Prayer in Dutch.

They still yell their
bloody 'eads off.

- Of course, they would.

'Cause it's you they
love, not the (mumurs).

Do you mind if I shut
out the noise

of the bellowing proletariat?

- Sick of slumming
already, Mr. James?

(door thudding)

- James.

I promised you the money
for that fine.

Here.

- Forget it.

Thanks all the same,
but it was only

a week's salary from this place.

- Oh, I insist.

It was my fault for
not being bright enough

to see through that
two-faced Swede

and his rat-fingered valet.

- He had a way with him.

Rot him.

- Damn him, he put
you in horror way.

- Oh well, we live and learn.

How's things in dear
old Eaton Place?

If your mother could see us
together now, she'd drop dead.

- Oh, I don't see why.

You're not a maid anymore.

You're the toast of Camden town.

- I was a skippy in
your mother's house.

- Was.

- Shut your eyes, love.

I'm gonna strip.

- Strip away, Sarah.

- You peeked last
time, remember?

Up in Lady Marjorie's
boudoir that night

I got drunk and tried
on a dress.

- I am a little older
now, Sarah.

And wiser.

I'm a Captain.

- If you're really wise,

you wouldn't be taking
me out to supper.

- Then I don't believe
in wisdom.

- Don't you?

- Not when, when...

- When what?

- When you're standing here.

So little on underneath.

- Nothing on underneath.

Captain.

(clock ticking)

(distant clattering)

(clattering)

- Who is it?
(Rose screaming)

Rose.

- Mr. Hudson, I never
thought you'd be 'ere.

I thought you'd be...

- I decided that I didn't
want to waste a good fire.

- No, well, goodnight
then, Mr. Hudson.

- Rose?

- Yes, Mr. Hudson?

- You're a wee thing late.

- Yes, yes, I am.

I missed the last tram back,

and had to walk all
the way home.

- I see.

Isn't that a valise
you've got there?

- Uh, yes, yes, it is.

- It is Miss Elizabeth's,
I think.

- Yes, it is, sir,
I've 'ad it mended.

- Don't lie to me, girl.

You know where she is.

Come down here.

In there.

(door squeaks)

Oh, Rose, Rose.

I would never have
thought it of you.

You know how upset her
ladyship has been.

I don't approve of gossip,
but I can tell you,

I've found her ladyship in tears

almost every day since
Miss Elizabeth went away.

And now, you knew where she was,

and you've kept it from her.

- Well, they made Miss
Elizabeth unhappy, too.

- That is no concern of yours.

- It is my concern,
she's my friend.

- Your friend?

(scoffs)

If Miss Elizabeth has taught
you to forget your place,

then she is no friend of yours.

Now, you will tell me
where she is, my girl.

- I won't.

- Rose, you will do as I bid.

Or tomorrow I'll
tell the master,

and he'll soon get
it out of you.

- I won't tell 'im.

Not if he tears me to pieces.

- Sit down, Rose.

- Oh.

- Sit down.

(thudding)

What is this house, Rose?

- 165 Eaton Place.

- And what part of the
house are we sitting in?

- Servant's hall.

- That is right.

The servant's hall.

You and I, Rose, we
are employed here.

What the family does
is their business.

We're here to do our work and
mind our business, not theirs.

- Miss Elizabeth asked
me to 'elp 'er.

- She shouldn't have done that.

It wasn't fair to you.

- Oh, I didn't mind.

- Well, you should.

Because it is your good
name that you'll lose,

and no one's got the
right to ask that of you.

- I don't see that.

- Don't you?

Well, I'll have to tell
the master tomorrow

that you have known all along
where Miss Elizabeth is.

And although you realized
how upset her ladyship was,

you didn't say a thing.

And he will tell her ladyship,

and then they will both know
that after all these years

you've been with them,
they can't trust you.

They'll be very sorry
to know that, Rose.

I know I am.

- Oh, Mr. Hudson.

What am I gonna do?

(sobbing)

(laughing)

- Oh ho, I'm exhausted.

(gasping)

Why must every house have three
steps up to its front door?

Why can't people live in
little sensible houses?

Just big enough for their needs.

None of these great pillars
and porticoes.

- Oh, I don't know.

I'm rather fond of pillars
and porticoes.

(scoffs) Through pillars and
porticoes, long may we roam.

To you it's a palace,
to me it's just home.

- Alright.

But every palace must
have at least

three families living in it.

And they can share the
cooking and the cleaning.

And then they can read
poetry to each other

all day long.

Henrietta will be back soon

if she hasn't fallen off
of her bicycle again.

(chuckling)

You'll stay for supper,
won't you?

- Oh no, no I can't.

I'm going to the opera.

- Oh.

- You shouldn't sit
in the firelight.

- Shouldn't I?

- I don't know, there's
something about

a woman and firelight.

Makes one think of
one's childhood.

Nanny and mother and all
those familiar things.

Makes one feel so
safe, and really

it's the most dangerous
thing in the world.

Oh, I must go.

Here, look at that
that when I'm gone.

- What is it?

It's your poem.

In the morning post.

Have you been carrying
this around all day?

- I'm sorry I sent it, now.

- But it's wonderful.

- Do you really think so?

The editor insisted on
cutting a couple of verses.

He said they were an attack
on religion and marriage.

- Were they?

- Well yes, of course.

(scoffs) I didn't think
he was clever

enough to realize it.

- Lawrence?

I think I'm falling
in love with you.

Would that be a terrible
mistake?

- A terrible mistake for you.

But wonderful for me.

(smacking)

(door thumping)

(sighing)

(knocking)

(door thumping)

- Elizabeth.

(orchestral music)

- Miss Elizabeth is
actually sleeping there,

is she, in them lodgings?

- Well, yes, Mr. Pearce,

at least she's staying
there with Miss Winchmore.

That's her young woman friend.

And.

- And what?

- And other people visit them.

- At nighttime, aye?

- Is one of 'em Miss
Elizabeth's gentleman friend?

- You mind your own
business, Nelly.

This is a private conversation

between Mr. Pearce and myself.

See, this Mr. Lawrence
Kirbridge is a poet.

- He's a poet and he
don't know it, aye?

(laughing)

'ere, I 'eard about poets.

- He speaks beautifully.

And he's one of the finest
gentlemen I've ever met.

And I'm sure Miss Lizzie
couldn't do better.

I'm sure she couldn't.

- Then why don't she come 'ome?

(inhaling)

- I must be free to
live my own life.

I can't be bound by rules

and chevalets I don't
believe in.

- And this freedom doesn't
include freedom from money?

- Oh no, that, if you'll
forgive me, is exactly--

- I'll forgive you anything,
Elizabeth,

except making your
mother unhappy.

I beg your pardon, I
interrupted you.

- Yes.

I don't want to quarrel.

That's why I came away.

- You've made your protest,
I understand.

Now, you can come home.

- Look, it wouldn't work.

I can't live the way
you and mother do.

Worrying about what you
eat and what you wear

and what you say.

It would like be taking
part in a perpetual charade.

Oh, charades are alright
at Christmas

when you all say and do
things you don't mean, anyway.

If you like, I'll come
home at Christmas,

and I'll play the charade
beautifully

for three or four days.

A whole week.

But don't ask me to spend my
whole life playing charades.

- Is religion part
of the charade?

- Yes, it is, I think
so and so does Lawrence.

- Lawrence?

- Lawrence Kirbridge, the poet.

He's now a friend of mine.

- Oh yes, he's that
rather precious young man

who writes poems against
religion and marriage.

- He writes poems for
a lot of things, too,

but you wouldn't notice that.

He writes about truth and
beauty and about honesty.

And about being young
and knowing

that the world belongs to you.

- Elizabeth, you won't
always be young.

- All the more reason not to
betray you, for I have it.

- Oh, that beastly bicycle,
look what it's done to my skirt.

I shall have to give
it to the cat meat man.

Never mind, I got
rid of them all.

Oh.

- Henrietta, my father.

- How do you do, Mr. Bellamy?

- Miss Henrietta.

- Did you finish
all the leaflets?

Why you haven't done
half of them.

- Yes, we have, we've
done thousands.

- Oh, the trouble with
you and Lawrence

is that you talk too
much instead of working.

- No, we don't.

- Well, I better go
and get supper.

Mrs. March is drunk.

- Oh, not again.

(Henrietta huffing)

- Who is Mrs. March?

- My landlady.

She does hit the bottle a bit.

Never mind, I found some
sausages in the meat safe.

I think I'll cook them.

Oh, are you staying for
supper, Mr. Bellamy?

- Oh...

No thank you.

I have to get to the house.

There's an important
division tonight.

- Oh yes, you're a
Tory, aren't you?

What action are you going
to take on that bill?

- Which bill?

- Winston Churchill's
Labor Exchange Bill.

- I'm not sure.

- You're not?

I thought you'd vote against it.

- It's a good bill.

I should probably abstain.

- And if there's a whip on?

- Well then, I shall consult--

- Oh, your leader, I suppose.

- I was about to say
my conscience.

- Oh.

Maybe you're not quite
as bad as you seem.

- (chuckles) Funny,
I was thinking

exactly the same
thing about you.

(sighing)

(door thumping)

(audience cheering)

-[Audience Member] Bravo!

- Hello.

Wee.

I thought you wasn't
coming tonight.

- I'm here.

- You said you was on
duty at the barracks.

- I was, but I managed
to get out of it

to be with you, my love.

Why don't we go somewhere
different tonight?

I've heard of some awfully jolly

little town down in Chessington.

- Where no one will
recognize you

as the son of Mr. Richard
Pemperton Bellamy.

- Oh, that's not
the point, Sarah.

- Oh, isn't it?

Alright, then let's
go to the Ritz.

You can take me to
supper at the Ritz.

And show me off to all your
mother and father's friends.

Ooh, dear, dear, isn't
that Marjorie Bellamy's boy

over their with his new lady
friend works on the stage?

(clucking) Dear, dear, what
a little trollop she looks,

all them feathers and jewels.

I do hear as how she was
the under-house parlor maid.

- Oh, shut up.

Go on and on about that.

I'll take you to the Ritz if
that's where you want to go.

I don't care what the parents,

I don't care what anybody says.

- But I do!

I care.

Now, listen.

I don't want you to
take me to the Ritz

or any other posh place.

Not yet, anyway.

Not 'til you're sure
how you feel about me.

I mean, we gotta give it time.

We've only been together
again little while.

- I love you, Sarah.

- Shh, but I want you
to promise me something.

- Anything, any reason.

Necklace, perhaps.

- Oh, shut up, I don't want no
expensive presents from you.

All I want you to promise me

is that you'll go easy
on that stuff.

I mean, you're a
good-looking boy.

Too many bottles of this,

and you're gonna go all
bloated and depraved.

And I wouldn't want my brave
Captain to go all depraved.

(growling)

Now then, Captain, if
you'll kindly undo me,

I'll get changed.

We'll whistle up a hansom

and drive back to my place.

For a cuppa cocoa, aye?

(both laughing)

- "And when you talk
of tenderness,

"I tell you I have
none to spare,

"I did not even know
I loved you,

"'til I saw bluebells
in your hair.

"I did not even know
I loved you,

"'til I saw bluebells
in your hair."

Well, it doesn't scan, does it?

- No, it doesn't.

- It'd be better to say, "I
did not know I loved you,

"'til I saw bluebells
in your hair."

- Why say it at all?
- Mmm.

- Doesn't make sense,
if she's got blue hair.

Well, at least he gets
them published.

I suppose that's something.

- He's making quite
a name for himself.

- A name?

- Yes, a lot of people
think he's very gifted.

Mr. Askwaith was talking
about him only yesterday.

His uncle is JG Kirbridge,

the Tory member for
Bristol North.

- I suppose we could
ask him to lunch.

- Funny to think
of Miss Elizabeth

coming to lunch as a guest.

- Shh.

-[Lady Marjorie] Your
father is dead,

I believe, Mr. Kirbridge.

-[Lawrence] Yes,
three years ago.

-[Lady Marjorie] Does your
mother live in London?

-[Lawrence] No, no, she lives
in Tunbridge Wells, actually.

-[Lady Marjorie] Very
pretty there, isn't it?

-[Lawrence] Yes.

-[Lady Marjorie] I hear
your uncle is JG Kirbridge.

- Oh mother, what does it
matter who his uncle was?

- Oh, I dunno, rather
interested in my relatives.

Another of my uncles used to say

we were descended from
Alfred the Great.

Of course, he was commonly
known as Mad George.

- Was he really mad?

- Well, he was eccentric,
rather.

- Mad, nor no west.

- Yes, exactly.

He was a missionary,
actually, in the South Seas.

He even had an island
named after him.

And then he died and
the natives ate him.

- Really?

- Well, I imagine so,
I mean, they always

eat you in the South
Seas, don't they?

Don't they?

- Not invariably.

- Oh?

I thought they did.

Oh, yeah, actually, I,

I approve of cannibalism.

- Mr. Kirbridge.

- Oh, call me Lawrence.

Everyone does.

No, when you think about it,
it's rather a delightful idea.

- Delightful?

- Yes, just imagine,
Lady Marjorie,

that someone that you
admire tremendously.

Now, in the normal course
of events they die,

and you've lost them.

But according to the
South Sea islanders,

and the Maori's of New
Zealand, I believe,

if you eat them, all their
qualities become yours.

Rather novel sort of
life after death.

It's quite religious, actually.

- Well, I do understand
the idea, but I'm not sure

I would ever take to it.

More coffee, Mr. Kirbridge?

-[Lawrence] No, thank you.

- Have you ever thought
of emulating

your uncle and going into
politics, Mr. Kirbridge?

- No, he hasn't.

- I wouldn't say that.

Thank you, Rose.

It's just that I don't really
see myself as a politician.

See, a politician has
to hold the same opinion

years and years and
years on end.

-[Lady Marjorie] Thank
you, Hudson.

- And I change my opinion
every week.

(chuckles) Every intelligent
man does.

- They like Mr. Hudson,
you can tell they do.

- He has a very easy,
pleasant way with them.

- Don't you like
him, Mr. Hudson?

- It is not my place to
like him or dislike him.

- No, but--
- Nor yours, either, Rose.

- No, Mr. Hudson.

- He's not quite what we're
used to, but he could be worse.

- But vaudeville is a
matter of principle, surely.

- Yes, but what exactly
is a matter of principle?

And how does it differ
from any other opinion?

- Well, there are certain
basic rules of life.

- Yes, but my basic rule
of life is to enjoy it.

And that everyone else
should do the same thing.

But it must be everyone.

I don't just mean one's
friends and relatives.

I mean, I mean the cole man,
the factory worker, the miner,

the little chap who works
in the shop selling thyme.

They've all got one life.

They have the right to enjoy
it, just as I enjoy mine.

Now, this is the principle
upon which I live.

And if we all lived on
the same principle, well,

well, there'd be no
further use of politicians.

- Nevertheless, with
that flow of oratory,

I think you'd make
a very good one.

- But we don't believe in
politics as they exist today.

Anymore than we believe
in religion or marriage.

- Ah, James.

I was expecting you for lunch.

- Sorry I'm late, mum,
I got held up.

This is Mr. Lawrence Kirbridge.

My son James.

- How do you do?

- Yes, I believe you were at
school with a friend of mine.

Bunny Hount.

- Bunny? Oh, yes.

Yes, we were great rivals
for athletic glory.

We used to run round and round
and round at the muddy track.

Trying to see which one
of us could go faster.

- There's no point
at this proceeding.

- I think it's always
good to excel.

-[Lawrence] How is old bunny?

- He's taken up polo now, so
the ponies have to run instead.

(Lawrence laughing)

You should come and
watch us play some time.

- Yes, yes, I'd like to do
that very much, thank you.

- Well, we must go.

- Well, darling, you don't
have to go yet, surely.

- Yes, we really must.

I promised Henrietta I'd do some

statistics about
aged destitution.

- Well, goodbye, Lady
Marjorie, thank you.

Thank you very much for
this delightful lunch.

- It's been a great pleasure.

You must come again.

- Well, thank you,
I'd like that.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

- Give my regards to old Bunny
when you see him, won't you?

- I will indeed.

- We're getting a lodge at
the Carton Club next week

in which a number of literary
people will be present,

I wonder if you'd care
to come as my guest.

- Well, thank you, sir, yes.

I'd like that very much.

- Oh, you'll know
where to find him.

Henrietta's gone
down into Wales,

and Lawrence is coming to
share the lodgings with me.

Bye.

Come along.

(door thumping)

- Why not?

If it makes your parents happy,

and my mother happy, why not?

- Because it's against
our principles.

- Oh, well, if we're doing
it because we're afraid

of the conventions,
then I agree.

But what harm will it do us
to say a few meaningless words

in a rather ugly studio
gothic barn

then just forget about it?

- A great deal of harm.

To us and to the things
we believe in.

- But how could it change us
if we don't believe in it?

- Look, it isn't just
getting married,

it's joining their fat,
comfortable world.

They'll make us fat and
comfortable, too.

Oh, oh don't ask me to do it.

Please, don't ask me.

- I don't see how else
you can see Rose

if they're both living
under the same roof.

- Well, I suppose we must
draw the worse conclusions.

(sighs)

- I would never have
believed it of him.

A presentable young
gentleman like that,

nicely spoken, well-connected.

- I think it's Miss Elizabeth.

She told me she don't
believe in marriage.

- Then she's a disgrace
to her family.

- You're ruining your father's
career, you know that.

- Oh, what rubbish.

How could it possibly?

- A politician must be
absolutely reliable.

Even a breath of scandal
could be disastrous.

People consider your
father for committee work

or to sit on some special
commission they think,

"That's the man whose
daughter's living...

Who is living..."

- Living in sin.

Oh, can't you see, there's
no such thing as sin?

There's only cruelty
and stupidity.

Lawrence and I love each other.

So we're doing what is perfectly

natural when you
love each other,

we're spending all the time we
can in each other's company.

We haven't been to bed together.

Yet.

But when we want to, and
when we feel it's the right

and natural thing to
do, then we shall do it.

Can't you understand?

- Yes, I understand.

I understand that you're
making us all miserable

for a stupid, childish,
arrogant whim.

- Oh, God!

(door slamming)

(door slamming)

(sighing)

(knocking)

- Rose.

Come in.

Have you come to supper?

- No, I can't stop,
Miss Elizabeth.

Her ladyship and the master
have gone out to supper,

and Miss Dragson said
I could come out

for an hour, but only an hour.

- Oh, I'm glad.

Come sit down.

- Mr. Lawrence not 'ere?

- No, he's staying with
his mother for a week.

- Oh, trying to explain,
I suppose.

- Trying to explain what?

- Why you and him aren't
getting married.

- Oh, Rose, how could you?

I thought you'd understand,
at least.

- Well, I don't
understand, Miss Elizabeth,

and neither do the
other servants.

- Oh, what do they matter?

- They matter to me.

And you matter to them.

- Yes, I'm sorry, I
didn't mean that.

But it's because of them.

I mean, all that we're
trying to do, Rose...

- Do you mean, you're
not getting married

will be better for the poor?

- Well, yes.

It's all part of the same thing.

Being free from the old,
stupid ways of thinking.

Being free to care about
everyone instead of being

tied up in marriage and
religion and society.

- I see.

Now, let's make sure
I got this right.

You want to help people?

-[Elizabeth] Yes.

- You want to do
good for people,

all sorts of people everywhere?

- Yes, I do.

Very much.

- But you don't want to help
the two people nearest to you.

- Well, if you mean my parents--

- Yes, I do!

- Rose, they're dead!

Or at least they're dying.

They're part of a dying world.

If I tied myself to them and did

what they wanted, then
I should die too.

- Oh, I see.

So, when someone's dying,

you're supposed to
leave them alone.

I didn't know that.

-[Elizabeth] Oh, Rose.

- When my mother was dying,

they sent for me up
at the big house.

Sat by her bed and held her
hand all night until she died.

I didn't know I wasn't
supposed to do that,

but then I'm just a stupid,
ignorant girl

what doesn't know any better.

And if I am, her ladyship
must be also,

'cause she sat beside
me and held my hand.

And in the morning
when my mother died

and I was crying, she cried too.

- Oh, it's not fair.

Not fair.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Oh mother, look, isn't
that frightful?

- Perfectly ghastly.

It's from Morde, of course.

(both laughing)

- Oh!

- Aunt Kate.

- Did you know?

- No, it looks like her.

- Ah!

Why is everyone so kind
when one's getting married?

- Oh, I think they
remember their own love.

Happily somebody become
very vulnerable.

They want to cherish it.

- Set them all out on the table.

That's right, that's right.

Rose, where's the cover
for the big meat dish?

- It's not in the pantry
cupboard, Mr. Hudson,

but we haven't used it at all,

not since Mr. James'
coming of age.

- Oh, maybe it's been put
away in the silver chest.

I'll have a look later.

Get a good shine on those
silvers, Edward.

- I'll do my best, Mr. Hudson.

- Now, Nelly, get out all
the glassware you can find.

There are going to be over
200 guests at reception.

- Oh, we ain't got 200
best plates nor nothing.

- The caterers will supplement
what we cannot provide, Rose.

Look sharp now, Nelly.

- Mr. Hudson, will I
be going to the church?

- Provided you dress
respectably.

Put on a proper hat and see

that your hands and
face are clean.

All the servants will
be going to the church.

There will be a private
omnibus waiting

for us directly after
the ceremony.

And I don't want any
of you loitering

about to see the bride leaving.

Other guests will
be arriving back

for the reception before we do.

- Nelly.

You, marm, are you going church?

You fecked up too
near the alter,

you might get married to me.

- (laughing) Edward,
you're a cur!

- I know!

- Edward!

Get on with your work.

Marriage is a very
serious business.

(blowing raspberry)

(slapping)

- I wonder if this is
my book or Henrietta's.

I think I'll keep it.

If she wants it, she
can ask me for it.

And if she doesn't want
it, I may as well keep it.

- Oh, I wish I could stay
here 'til the wedding.

How absurd that we should
have to conform

to their tribal customs.

How ridiculous that we
should have to wait

to make love until society
gives us its approval.

Lawrence?

- Hmm?

- I'm sorry about Evelyn Larkin.

- Oh, she's alright,
she always is.

- No, I mean, making love.

I'm sorry it's not going
to be the first time.

For both of us.

- Well, you don't have to
worry about me and Evelyn.

It wasn't a great success.

Perhaps, it's just
as well, really.

If it had been, she might

not have let me go
quite so easily.

She rather cares for
that sort of thing.

- Don't you?

- Oh, of course.

- I'm sure I shall.

- Well, we shall see, won't we?

- Yes, we shall see.

(clock ticking)

- Did you clean your shoes
this morning, Edward?

- Yes, Mr. Hudson.

- Well, give them another
rub while I go upstairs.

Rose, assemble the staff.

- Yes, Mr. Hudson.

- And blow your nose, Nelly.

- I don't need to.

- Blow it just the same.

(blowing)

- With our very best
wishes, Miss Elizabeth.

-[Elizabeth] Thank you,
thank you very much.

Can I open it now?

- Allow me, Miss.

(Nelly chortling)

- Nelly.

- Oh, it's beautiful.

Thank you, thank you so much.

Oh, dear Rose.

Oh (laughing).

Oh (laughing)

Thank you.

(all laughing)

(clock chiming)

(organ music)

(chatter)

- Elizabeth's nearly ready.

-[Richard] Shouldn't
you be leaving?

- Yes, I'm going now.

- Is she alright?

- Why shouldn't she be?

- You look beautiful.

- No, I don't, but
I've done my best.

Can't do more, can one?

- No (chuckling).

- Now, the servants
are just leaving.

If Elizabeth isn't
done in 10 minutes,

shout up the stairs.

- Yes, yes, I'll do that.

- Oh, James, good
lad, are we ready?

- Everything's in order, Mother.

Ah, splendid.

There.

Well.

Ready, Mother?

- Paul, take the covers
off in an hour time.

And you can offer the
caterers a cup of tea,

but no strong liquor, mind.

Where's Nelly at...

- How do I look, Mr. Hudson?

- (exhaling) Remarkable, Nelly.

Come along, then, quickly.

- Shall I call Rose if
we're going, Mr. Hudson?

- No, no, Rose is attending
to the bride.

She'll come on later and
join us at the church.

Follow me.

- Nelly.

My arm, pleasure?

- (gasping) Edward!

- If I get 'ungry in church,

I'm gonna have a nibble
of your cherries.

(laughing)

- Edward!

- No, no, no, it's
a nice 'at, really.

No, I do like it, really.

C'mon, quick, let's go.

(birds twittering)

(hooves clopping)

(organ music)

-[Woman] My dear marm.

- Alright then, Mother?

- I suppose so.

- C'mon then.

- James, you don't
think Elizabeth--

- Don't worry.

Father will see her to her post.

(organ music)

- I feel like a gladiator

about to return (murmuring).

- Don't worry they'll
let you live.

You brought the ring.

- You're sure?

(organ music)

- Aye marm, it's this here
end, it's all caught up.

- Now, don't let me go
without the bouquet.

- And don't forget what her
ladyship said about holding it.

- Not over my stomach as
though I'm concealing a baby

and not in my arms as
though I'm nursing one.

- (laughing) Oh, Miss Elizabeth.

- Oh, well, but that's how
I remember what not to do.

- There, that's alright.

Now, put your veil
over your head.

- Oh, no, no, no, wait until
I finish with the stairs.

- Just imagine, honeymoon
in Vienna.

- Yes.

Rose?

- Yes, Miss Elizabeth?

- In case you have any
doubts about it,

I'm still quite pure, you know.

- Yes, Miss Elizabeth.

- You had doubts, didn't you?

- Well, I had quite thought
what with all

that talk about not believing
in marriage,

but I'm very pleased to hear it.

- Are you?

I'm not.

- Miss Elizabeth.

- Oh, Rose, if it
wasn't for you,

I wouldn't be standing here now.

- But I done it all for
the best, Miss Elizabeth.

- Yes, I know.

Everyone's done everything
for the best,

only now, I'm so frightened.

- But you do love
him, don't you?

- Yes.

But I wish I knew...

- What?

- Yes.

Yes, I do love him.

I do, I do.

Maybe it's all for the best.

- Oh, I'm sure it is,
Miss Elizabeth.

I'm sure it is.

(door creaking)

- Elizabeth.

(organ music)

- Edward?
- Yes, Mr. Hudson?

- Don't sing too loud
with the hymns.

-[Sarah] Oh, no.

(shushing)

I'm one of the family.

- Who on earth is that?

- God almighty!

- Who is it?

- It's Sarah,

that used to be in service.

- Oh, she never.

- Yeah, you were right once.

- Blimey!

- It looks like.

But it can't be.

- Mother, I'll see to it.

- It's no use sticking
me in the back,

I won't see a thing.

Now listen, you might not
think it to look at me,

but I'm very short-sighted.

Oh, there's some of me
old friends up there.

Hello, where's...

- There'll be arriving
here any minute.

- Don't worry.

I'll never spoil an entrance.

(organ music)

(engine rumbling)

- You alright?

- Yes, I'm alright.

- You know marriage is a
decourish faith in the future.

I'm glad you're making it.

- So am I.

(organ music)

(organ music)

* Oh, what are we gonna
do with Uncle Arthur

(clapping and singing)

(clapping and singing)

- See now!

Oh, I, I beg your pardon,
Miss Denise.

- Yes, Hudson.

- Edward, Nelly, Pearce,
upstairs, the front hall.

Miss Elizabeth is
leaving shortly.

(clapping)

C'mon, quickly now.

The other wedding guests are
assembling in the hall, Miss.

- Well, I'm assembling
down 'ere.

- I, I think since you were
invited as a guest, Miss--

- Oh, I was invited, alright.

- Sarah!

- Down 'ere, Jimmy.

- Sir.

- Oh, what on earth are
you doing down here?

- Reliving old memories.

- You know very well you hated

every minute of your time here.

- I know.

(glasses clinking)

Poor old Hudson was
a bit confused.

I mean, I don't really
belong anywhere, do I?

Neither upstairs,
nor downstairs.

-[Both] Nor in my
ladies' chamber.

- You belong to me.

- Do I?

- Elizabeth is about to go.

- I wish we could go away.

- Where to?

Vienna?

- I'd rather go to Paris.

- Alright.

Let's go.

- What, now?

- Why not?

- Wee!

What about the regiment?

- What about the theater?

- To hell with the theater.

- To hell with the regiment.

(speaking foreign language)

- C'mon, let's go and play
some confession to my sister.

- Aye, watch it, you'll
rupture yourself.

(orchestral music)

(orchestral waltz music)