All language subtitles for Daisy Miller 1974

And I love you.

Randolph?

Yes?

What are you doing?

Nothing.

Where are you going?

Nowhere.

Indians?

Don't you do anything
now till I get down.

All right.

Oh, sure.

Can I have a lump
of sugar?

Can I have a lump
of sugar, I said.

Oh.

A lump of sugar.

Certainly.

You're not Swiss?

Here, I'll show
you a trick.

Are you German
or something?

I, uh, put the
lump of sugar

on the top of my
hand, all right?

Now, you put your hand
underneath here,

and, uh, wait now.

I'm going to send
the sugar right
through my hand.

Ready?
I guess you're some kind

of an Englishman
or something.

Shh-shh-shh.
Here we go now.

You could be Polish.
Are you Polish?

I'm American.

Hmm... well, that
makes two of us.

Really? You don't sound
like an American.

Well, that's because
I live in Europe, I guess.

You live in Europe?
Why? What happened?

Well, I chose to.
I like it.

You like it? Europe?

Well, you're not
going to do your
teeth any good.

I haven't got any teeth.
They've all come out.

Are you a dental surgeon,
by any chance?

No, I'm not.

See.

Oh, my word.

I've only got
seven teeth left.

Mother counted them
last night,

and one came out
right after.

She said she'd slap me
if any more came out.

I can't help it.
It's old Europe.

The climate here
makes them come out.

They didn't come out
in America.

These hotels...
do you like hotels?

Well, I...
Are you staying here?

Uh, I've just come
to see my aunt, uh...

You're not going
to help your teeth.

Well, I've got to get me
some candy, then.

I can't get any candy here...
any American candy.

That's the only kind
worth eating.

Do you like her?

Uh, um, like whom?

I was taking bets
you were German, you know that?

Your aunt.

Well, she's my aunt--
yes, I like her.

I bet you don't.

Randolph, you try that
and I'll fix you.

How do you like that?

She's absolutely right.

How do you come
to know her?

I don't know her.

Oh.

She's my sister.

Why, Randolph,
what are you doing?

I'm going up the Alps.
This way.

That's the way
you come down.

He's an American.

Well, you'd better
be quiet.

Your brother and I
have made acquaintance.

I'd like to know
where you got that pole.

I bought it.
You don't
mean to say

you're going to
take it to Italy?

Yes, I'm going to take it
to Italy.

Well, better leave it
somewhere.

Are you going to Italy?

Yes, sir.

And, uh, are you thinking
of the Campeau?

I don't know. I suppose
it's some mountain.

Randolph, what mountain
are we thinking of?

Thinking of?
Why, going over.

Going to where?
Why, right down
to Italy.

I don't know.
I don't want to go to Italy.

I want to go to America.

Oh, Italy's
a beautiful place.

Can you get
candy there?

I hope not. I guess
you've had enough candy.

I haven't!
And Mother
thinks so, too.

I haven't had any
for ever so long,

not for a hundred weeks!

It's a beautiful view,
isn't it?

Hmm...

You can just barely see
the Dents du Midi over there.

Why don't you show her
your trick?

Uh, it's not a very good one,
I'm afraid.

Uh, forgive me, but, uh,
would you care to sit down?

Oh, I like just
hanging around.

You believe
he's an American?

Are you a
real American?

Yes.

I wouldn't have taken
you for one.

You seem more like
a German,

especially
when you speak.

That's what I said.

Oh, well,
I've met Germans

who speak
like Americans,

but, so far, not
the other way around.

Uh, excuse me.

I'm from New York State,
if you know where that is.

Where I'd like
to be right now.

Now, listen, my boy,

you haven't even
told me your name yet.

Randolph C. Miller.
I'll tell you hers, too.

You'd better wait
till you're asked.

Well, I'd like very
much to know your name.

Her name's Daisy Miller,

but that ain't her real name,
though.

It ain't the name on her cards.

Too bad you haven't got
one of my cards.

Her real name's Annie P. Miller.
Can I climb that tree?

Ask him his now.
My father's name
is Ezra B. Miller,

but my father ain't
in Europe.

Oh, he's not?
Nope. My father's
in a better place.

Oh, I'm sorry.

My father's in Schenectady.
He's got a big business.

My father's very rich.
Well...

I'm going to practice for
the Alps and climb that tree.

He doesn't like Europe.
Uh, and you?

He doesn't like me,
either.
No, I meant, uh...

I love it, but he wants
to go right home.

He hasn't got
any boys here.

Well, there's one,
but he always goes
around with a teacher.

They won't let him play.

And your brother
has no teacher?

Mother thought
of getting him one.

There was a lady told her
about a very good teacher,
an American lady.

Perhaps you know her--
Mrs. Saunders?

No...
I think
she came from Boston.

She told her
about this teacher.

We thought of getting her
to travel around with us,

but Randolph said
he didn't want a teacher
traveling around with us.

He said he wouldn't have lessons
when we're in the cars,

and we are in the cars
about half the time.

Oh, well, then,
how could he...

There was an English lady
we met in the cars.

I think her name
was Miss Featherstone--
perhaps you know her?

She wanted to know why
I didn't give Randolph lessons,

give him "instruction,"
she called it.

I guess he could give me
more instruction

than I could give him.
He's very smart.

Ye-Yes, he seems to be.

Mother's going to find
a teacher for him

as soon as we get
to Italy.

Can you find people in Italy
to do that kind of thing?

Oh, I think you can
find people in Italy...

Or else she's going
to find some school.

...to do almost
any kind of thing.

He's only ten.
He's going to college.

Have you been?
Yes, in Geneva.

Oh.

You know that English lady
in the cars, Miss Featherstone,

asked me if we didn't all live
in hotels in America.

I told her I'd never been
in so many hotels in my life

as I'd been in
since I came to Europe.

I declare,
it's nothing but hotels.

I've never seen so many!

Well, there are quite
a number of them.

Of course, they're very good,
once you get used to their ways.

Mind you, I think Europe
is perfectly sweet.

Well...
I'm not disappointed,
not a bit.

Maybe it's because I'd heard
so much about it before.

I have ever so many
intimate friends

who've been ever so many times,
and then, of course,

I've so many dresses
and things from Paris.

Whenever I put on
a Paris dress,

I feel as if
I were in Europe.

Are you waiting
for someone?

Uh, my aunt,
uh, Mrs. Costello.

I'm taking her for
a cure at the baths.

They always made me wish I was
in Europe-- the dresses.

Though I'm sure they send
all the pretty ones to America.

Some of the most awful
things here.

What does she suffer from?

Uh, pardon?
Your aunt.

Oh, she keeps
an open mind--

anything her
doctor suggests.

The only thing I don't like
is the society.

There isn't any,
or if there is,

I don't know where
it keeps itself, do you?

Well, I think you have...

Oh, I suppose there's some
society somewhere,

but I haven't seen
anything of it.

Are you going to take
the cure, too?

I hope I don't need it.

Well...

I'm very fond of society.

I've always had plenty of it.

I don't mean only in
Schenectady, but in New York.

I go to New York every winter,

and there's
lots of society there.

Last winter,
I had 17 dinners given me--

three of them by gentlemen.

I've more friends in New York
than Schenectady--

more gentlemen friends...

and more young lady friends,
too.

I've always had a great deal
of gentlemen society.

I see.

Have you been to that old castle
around the bend?

Uh, Chillon?

I beg your pardon?

It's called
the Chateau de Chillon.

Mm-hmm. Have you
ever been there?

Oh, yes, more than
once. And you?

No, we haven't been there,
and I want to go dreadfully.

Of course,
I mean to go.

I just wouldn't leave
without seeing that old castle.

You can drive,
you know,

or take the little
steamer, if you like.

That's what Eugenio says--
our courier.

We have a courier traveling
personally with us,

making all the arrangements--
all that sort of thing.

His name is Eugenio.

He's the most fastidious man
I ever saw,

but he's a splendid courier.

We were going to that
old castle last week,

but Mother gave out.

Good cooking
always gives her dyspepsia.

Maybe you should take her
to the baths with your aunt.

Well, I could ask
my aunt...

Randolph wouldn't go either.

He says it's much too old
to be interesting.

He wants to stay here.

Mother's afraid
to leave him alone,

and Eugenio
won't stay with him,

so we haven't been
to many places,

but it will be too bad
if we don't go up there.

Well, can't you
find someone

to stay with Randolph
for an afternoon?

I wish you'd stay with him.

Oh, I'd much rather
go to Chillon.

With me?

And with your mother,
of course.

Oh, I don't think
Mother would go... for you.

She's not much bent
on going anyway.

She doesn't like to ride
around in the afternoons.

Maybe she'll stay here
with Randolph,

which means maybe Eugenio
will stay, too,

and then we can go
to the castle.

We-- you and I?

Oh, Eugenio.

This is Eugenio.

I knew he'd be
looking for me
any minute.

I have the honor
to inform mademoiselle

it is time to go
into the village.

We're going to buy a clock.

Eugenio's found one
at a really amazing price.

I'm sure.

Mademoiselle has seen
her brother?

He's climbing the Alps.
Excuse me?

Oh, he doesn't want to come.

See here, Eugenio, I'm going
to that old castle anyway.

To Chillon?

Mademoiselle
has made arrangements?

You won't back out?

I won't be happy
till we go.

You're staying
at this hotel,

and you're really American?

I should have the honor
to introduce you
to my aunt.

She'll tell you
all about me.

Oh, well,
maybe we'll go someday.

Oh, Randolph,
you scared Eugenio...

Mademoiselle,
the carriage is waiting.

Come on, Randolph,
we're going into town.

I don't want
to go into town.

Monsieur Randolph could stay
in his room.

They're horribly common,
my dear Frederick.

They're the sort of Americans

one does one's duty
by just ignoring.

Milk?

Please.

So, you just,
uh, ignore them?

Well, I can't not.

I wouldn't if I hadn't to,
but I have to.

Sugar?

Oh, no thank you.

The little girl's
very pretty.

Of course,
she's very pretty,

but she's
of the last crudity.

Well, I see what
you mean, of course.

She has that charming look,
they all have--

can't think
where they pick it up--

and she dresses
to perfection.

Yes, I...

No, you don't know
how well she dresses.

Can't think where
they get their taste.

Oh, but, dear Aunt,
after all,

she's not
a Comanche Indian.

Frederick...
she's a young lady,

who has an intimacy
with her mama's courier.

Does she? An intimacy?

Well, there's no
other name for it,

and the skinny
little mother
is just as bad.

They treat the courier
as a familiar friend,

as a gentleman
and a scholar.

Shouldn't wonder
if he dines with them.

Very likely they've never seen
a man with such good manners,

such fine clothes,
so like a gentleman.

Probably corresponds
to the young ladies...

"Dear Viscount..."

Sits with them
in the garden of an evening.

I think he smokes
in their faces.

Well, I'm
not a courier,

and I didn't smoke
in her face,

and yet she was
very charming to me.

You might have
mentioned at first

that you had made
her valuable acquaintance.

We simply met
in the garden...

By appointment?

and I talked to her.

No? Pray, what did you say?

I said I should
take the liberty

of introducing her
to my admirable aunt.

Your admirable aunt is
a thousand times obliged.

Well, it was only
to guarantee my
respectability.

And pray who is
to guarantee hers?

Oh, now, that's cruel.
She's a very innocent girl.

You don't say that
as if you believed it.

Well, how does one say it
as if one believed it?

If you believed it,
you wouldn't need
to say it.

Oh, she's completely
uneducated, yes,

but I think she's
wonderfully pretty
and very nice

and to prove it,
I'm going to take her
one day to Chillon.

You two are going off
there together?

Well, I should think that
proved just the contrary.

How long had
you known her,

may I ask, when
this interesting
project was formed?

You've only been
in Vevey 24 hours.

Well, I had known
her half an hour.

Well, then she's
just as I supposed.

And what do you suppose?

Why, that she's a horror.

Oh, come...

Now, won't you
at the least

meet her
and see for yourself?

Is it literally true

that she's going alone
with you to that castle?

I have no doubt
she fully intends to.

Then I'm afraid
I must decline

the honor
of her acquaintance.

I'm an old woman,
but I'm not too old,

thank heaven,
to be honestly shocked.

But don't they all
do these things--

the, uh, little girls
in New York?

I'd sure like to see my
granddaughters do them...

Well, I've heard--

or anyone else
that's proper.

You mean, you really
think, then...?

You really think
that...?

Think what, sir?

Well, that she's
the sort of girl

who expects a man
sooner or later to...

uh, well, we'll call it
carry her off?

Frederick, what
I really think

is that you had
better not meddle

with little American
girls who are--

as you mildly put it--
uneducated.

You've lived too long
out of the country.

You'll be sure to make
some great mistake.

You're too innocent.

My dear aunt,
I'm not too innocent.

Too guilty, then.

Oh, there you are.

I've been wondering
where you were.

Well, I've just
finished dinner.

With your aunt?
Yes.

I declare, this is
the stupidest evening
I've ever had.

Have you been
all alone?

I've been walking around
with Mother.

But she gets tired
walking around.

She's gone to bed?

No, she doesn't like
to go to bed.

She doesn't sleep
hardly at all-- not three hours.

She says she doesn't
know how she lives.
She's dreadfully nervous.

I guess she sleeps
more than she thinks.

She's gone somewhere
to find Randolph,

to try to get him
to go to bed.

He doesn't like
to go to bed.

Well, let's hope
she persuades him.

Well, she'll talk
to him all she can,

but he doesn't
like her to talk to him.

I think she's going to try
to get Eugenio to talk to him,

but Randolph ain't
afraid of Eugenio.

He's a splendid courier,

but he can't seem to make
an impression on Randolph.

I don't think he'll go
to bed before 11:00.

How's your aunt feeling?

Uh, not very well,
I'm afraid.

The chambermaid told me
all about her.

She said she's very
quiet and very proper,

and she wears
white puffs,

and she never
speaks to anyone,

and she always
dines alone,

and every two days
she has a headache.

Your chambermaid's
very observant.

I think it's a
lovely description,
headache and all.

I want to know
her ever so much.

I know just what
your aunt would be.

I know I'd like her.
She'd be very exclusive.

Yes, she is that.
I like a lady
to be exclusive.

I'm dying to be
exclusive myself,

though I guess we are
exclusive, Mother and I.

We don't speak to anyone,
or they don't speak to us.

I suppose it's about
the same thing.

Anyhow, I'll be ever so
glad to meet your aunt.

Yes, she'd be
most happy, too,

but I'm afraid
those tiresome headaches...

Well, I suppose she doesn't
have a headache every day...

Well, she tells me she does.

She doesn't want to know me.
Why didn't you say so?

You needn't be afraid.
I'm not afraid.

Oh, but-but you see,
she doesn't know anyone.

She goes through
life like that.

It's-it's her
wretched health.

You needn't be afraid.

Why should she want
to know me?

Gracious...
she is exclusive.

Well, to tell you the truth,
I think she's...

Well, here comes Mother.

Bet she didn't get
Randolph to go to bed.

Are you sure
that's your mother?

Well, I guess I
know my own mother.

She's got my
shawl on, too.

She's always wearing
my things.

Well, I'm afraid
she doesn't see you,

or, uh, maybe she feels
guilty about your shawl.

Oh, it's a
ratty old thing.

I told her
she could wear it

if she didn't mind
what she looked like.

She won't come here
because she sees you.

Oh, well, then,
I'd better leave.
Oh, no, come on.

Well, I'm afraid she doesn't
approve of my walking with you.

It's not for me--
it's for you.

I mean, it's for her.
Well, I don't know
who it's for.

But Mother doesn't
like any of my
gentlemen friends.

She's just
downright timid.

Always makes a fuss if
I introduce a gentleman,

but I do introduce
them, almost always.

If I didn't introduce
my gentlemen friends
to Mother,

I wouldn't think
I was natural.

Well, then, you'd
better know my name.

It's Winterbourne-- Frederick
Forsythe Winterbourne.

Oh, my. I can't
say all that.

Mother, Mr. Frederick
Forsythe Winterbourne.

What are you doing
poking around here?

Well, I don't know.

I don't know why you like
to wear this old shawl.

Well, I do.

Did you ever get
Randolph to go to bed?

No, I couldn't induce him.
He wants to talk to the waiter.

He likes to talk
to that waiter.

I was just telling
Mr. Winterbourne...

Oh, yes, I've had
the pleasure of
meeting your son...

Well, I don't
see how he lives.

Anyhow, it isn't as bad
as it was at Dover.

Oh, and what
happened at Dover?

He wouldn't go
to bed at all.

Sat up all night
in the lobby.

He wasn't in bed at 12:00.
Just wouldn't budge.

Well, it was half past 12:00
when I gave up.

Well, doesn't he sleep
much during the day?

Not very much.
I wish he would.

He should make it
up somehow.

It seems he just can't.

I think he's
real tiresome.

Well, Daisy Miller,
I wouldn't think you'd want

to talk against
your own brother.

Well, he is
tiresome, Mother.

Well, he's only ten.

He wouldn't even go
up to that castle.

Luckily, I'm going
with Mr. Winterbourne.

Uh, yes, your daughter
has kindly allowed me

the honor of
being her guide.

I suppose you'll
go in the cars.

Yes, or on the boat.

Well, of course,
I don't know.

I've never been
up to that castle.

Oh, you ought to go.

Well, we've been thinking
ever so much about going,

but it seems
like we never could.

Oh, it'd be a pity...
Of course Daisy, she wants
to go around everywhere.

Yes, I found that out...
But there's a lady here--
I don't know her name--

she says she doesn't
think we want to go
to see castles here.

Well, I don't see why...
She thinks we'd want to wait
till we go to Italy.

I think there's so many there.
Yes...

Of course, we only want
to see the principal ones.
Of course.

We saw several in England.

Oh, yes, there are
beautiful ones there,

but, uh, Chillon really
is well worth seeing.

Well, of course,
if Daisy feels up to it,

it seems there just isn't
anything she wouldn't undertake.

Uh, you're sure
you won't join us?

I guess you'd
better go alone.

Mr. Winterbourne?

Yes?

Don't you want to take me
out in the boat?

Now?
Why, of course.

Well, Annie Miller.

Oh, do let her go.

I wouldn't think
she'd want to.

No?

I would think
she'd rather go inside.

I'm sure Mr. Winterbourne
wants to take me.

He's so awfully devoted.

Well, I'll row you over
to Chillon under the stars.

I don't believe it.

You haven't spoken to me
for half an hour.

I've been having a very
pleasant conversation
with your mother.

Oh, pshaw... I want you
to take me out in a boat.

There are half a dozen boats
moored at that landing,

if you'll
do me the honor.

I do like a gentleman
to be formal.

It's a formal offer,
I assure you.

I was determined
to make you say something.

Well, you see,
it's not very difficult,

but I'm afraid
you're only teasing me.

I don't
think so, sir.

Well, in that case,
let me give you a row.

Let me give you a row--

Isn't it lovely
the way he says that?

It would be even
lovelier to do it.

It would be,
it really would.

It would indeed. Lovely.
I can't wait.

After all, why wait?
Why wait for anything?

I think you should find
out what time it is.

It's 11:00, Madame.

Eugenio,
I'm going on a boat

with Mr. Winterbourne.

At this hour, mademoiselle?

I'm going with Mr. Winterbourne.
I'm going this very minute.

Tell her she can't
go, Eugenio.

I think you'd better not go
out in a boat, mademoiselle.

I suppose you don't think
it's proper.

My, Eugenio doesn't think
anything's proper.

Well, nevertheless,
I'm at your service.

Does mademoiselle propose
to go alone?

Oh, no, no--
with this gentleman.

I meant alone
with the gentleman.

As mademoiselle
pleases.

Oh, I hoped
you'd make a fuss.

I don't care
to go now.

Well, then,
I'll make a fuss.

That's all I want--
a little fuss.

Monsieur Randolph has
retired for the night.

Oh, Daisy, then
we can go in now.

Good night.

I hope you're disappointed,
or disgusted, or something.

Well, I'm puzzled,
if you want to know.

Well, I hope it won't
keep you awake.

This is so beautiful...

Bang.

What are you
doing up there?

Nothing.

Hmm... been there long?

Long enough.

Want to come down?
Nope.

Well, good night, then.

Good night.

Bang.

Come on, we're
going to go!

We're going to make it,
we're going to make it!

Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo!
Come on!

Well, take my arm at least.
No!

We made it!

Barely.

I told you we would.

A mass of towers
on a block of boulders--

that's what Hugo called it.

Who did?

Victor Hugo.

Oh... I think this
is ever so much nicer

than taking the
carriage, don't you?
Mm-hmm.

I have a passion for
steamboats anyway.

There's always
such a lovely
breeze on the water,

and there are
lots of people.

What on earth are
you so solemn about?

Solemn-- am I?

You look as if you were
taking me to a funeral.

Well, I thought
I was grinning
from ear to ear.

If that's a grin,
your ears are very
close together.

Well, should I dance
a hornpipe on the deck?

Oh, I wish you would,

and I'll carry
your hat around.

It'll pay our expenses.

I was never better
pleased in my life.

I like to make you
say those things.

You're funny.

Am I?

Mm-hmm.

Come on, let's be
the first ones off.

Yes, we are.
Yes, American.

So, first, let's...

And it was also rebuilt

in the 11th
through 13th cycles.

Centuries.
Cycles.

Centuries.

Yeah, cycles.

What's up here?

Uh, excuse me. Sir...

This way.

I'm sure you know
just as much as he does.

Well, the point
he was trying to make

was that you must distinguish
the various periods.

You see, the castle
wasn't all constructed
at the same time.

I heard it was built
between the ninth and
the thirteenth cycle.

Uh, centuries.
Yeah, cycles.

A lot of people were
imprisoned in this castle.

I suppose Bonivard
was the most famous.

Was he here long?

Mm, four years,
I think.

I'll show you where.

Is that how long
you've been in Europe?

Oh, longer than that.

How long?

Well, I went to school
in Geneva as a boy,

then to college there.

Oh, that long.

Oh.

Careful.
What an awful hole.

It's called
an oubliette.

That's French.
That's right.

Comes from the word
"oublier," which
means "to forget."

They used to put
a man down there and...
throw away the key.

Do you have any brothers
or sisters?

No, I don't.

Oubliette.

Oh, look at that
beautiful tower up there.

Mm-hmm. Now,
watch your head.

Oh, thank you.

What are these holes for
all along here?

Actually, I've never...

Of course, the main
thing to remember

is that the castle
completely dominated

the pass through
the Alps.

Oh.

Why don't you like America?

Who said I didn't?

Just an impression
you give.

Well, I like America
very much.

I think "oubliette"
sounds funny, don't you?

What? Oh, uh,
I don't know.

Look out here.

Oh, no, no, no, be
careful, be careful.

Oh!
Be careful.

Oh, it's all right,
come on.
The wood is very old.

It's very rotted,
you see.

As it gets older,
it's very...

Yes, it's certainly
very rotted.

Why are you rushing?

You're not going
to see anything.

I don't know
why I'm rushing.

What's through here?

Oh, look.
What?

Come on, maybe we'll find
another oubliette.

Now, watch
your head, there.

It's beautiful over here.

Look.

I wonder what's through there.

Wait for me,
and then we'll see.

Come on.

I can't wait for you
every time. Come on.

Miss Miller.

Miss Miller, where are you?

I'm here.

Oh.

Don't you stray
from me anymore.

You're liable to fall.

Into an oubliette.
I hope you won't forget me.

Oh, dear.

Now, this is where
Bonivard was chained

to that fifth pillar
right there.

My goodness.

Lord Byron carved
his name on it.

He wrote that poem
about him, of course,

The Prisoner of Chillon.

What did he do?
Byron?

No, Bonivard.

Oh, it was one of those
religious things

during the Reformation.
Oh, dear.

You see, he wanted
Geneva to be free
from the Duke of Savoy

who lured him
into an ambush,

brought him here,
and chained him up.

Probably he'd
still be here

if the Burmese hadn't
stormed the castle
four years later

and set him free.

"There are seven pillars
of Gothic mold

"in Chillon's dungeons
deep and old.

"There are seven columns
massy and gray,

"dim with the dull,
imprisoned ray

"a sunbeam
which hath lost its...

way."

Well, I hope
you know enough.

I never saw a man
that knew so much.

You're teasing me again.

No, I think it's lovely.

I wish you traveled
around with us,

and then maybe we
might learn something
about something.

Well, I wish
that I could.

Don't you want to come
and teach Randolph?

I guess he'd improve
with a gentleman teacher.

Oh, nothing
could please me more,

but I do, unfortunately,
have other occupations.

You see,
there's where Byron...
Other occupations?

I don't believe
a speck of it.

What do you mean?
You're not in business.

Yes, that's true,
but I do have
some engagements.

In fact, I shall
have to be back in Geneva

in just a day or so.

Oh, pshaw,
I don't believe it.

I'm cold now.
What's through here?

Oh, wait for me.

Oh, now there's something
interesting.

Do you see the design
of this fireplace here?

This is from the...
Look here!

You don't mean to say
you're really going
back to Geneva?

Well, yes, I'm afraid so.

In fact, I have to be
there tomorrow.

Well, Mr. Winterbourne,
I think you're horrible.

Well... don't say a thing
like that just at the last.

The last?
I call it the end.

I have a good mind
to leave here

and walk straight back
to the hotel alone.
No, please, wait.

There's so many other
things to see.

I think you're horrible.
I think you're horrid!

Who is she?
What?

This mysterious charmer
who's waiting for you in Geneva.

Oh, you're completely
mistaken, I promise you.

"You're completely mistaken,
I promise you."

But you are.
Doesn't she ever give you

more than two days off
at a time?

Oh, don't be ridiculous.
I have studies to complete.

I can imagine.

Doesn't she even give you
a summer vacation?

Everybody gets that.
Please stop teasing.

I suppose if you stay
an extra day,

she'll come right after you
in the boat.

I do wish you'd wait
until Friday

so I can go down
to the landing
and see her arrive.

Oh, please stop.
We were having
such a good time.

Miss Miller?

You think I'm teasing?

Aren't you?

All right, I'll stop.

Good.
If you'll make
a solemn promise

to come to Rome this year
while we're there.

Well, that's not a
difficult promise to make.

My aunt's going to take
an apartment there,

and she's already asked
me to come see her.

I don't want you
to come for your aunt.

I want you to come
just for me.

All right.

At any rate, I will
certainly come.

Shall we go back?

I don't want
to take the boat now.

Oh, well, there'll
be a carriage.

...the little abominations

picked up half a dozen
of the regular Roman court.

Close those windows.

Afraid I'm getting
another headache.

I wish these Italians

wouldn't put so much
garlic in their music.

And?
And what?

You were saying?
What about?

Uh, the fortune hunters.
What?

And Miss Miller.

Oh, yes-- the
fortune hunters,

and they're of
the inferior sort.

She rackets about
with them alone

in a way that
makes much talk.

She takes them
with her

to such houses as her
nose is allowed into.

When she comes
to a party--

such a party
as she can come to--

she brings with her
one particular
Italian gentleman

who has a good deal
of manner,

with whom she seems
very intimate.

As to what happens
further between them,

you must apply elsewhere
for information.

And where is the mother?

I haven't the least idea.

Oh, I really know nothing
about them whatever.

Well...

Well...

And how are my three cousins?

Splendid.

Alexander's moved
up the block

from the 42nd
Street house,

and Antony's still
out on Riverside Drive.

And Andrew?

Has he been to see you?

He has not.

The last I heard,
he was in Hamburg.

Seems prodigiously busy.

He's in every city
that I'm not.

I see.

And will you be coming to
Mrs. Walker's tea tomorrow?

Oh, I find it difficult
to take tea--

even more difficult
to take Mrs. Walker.

I think I might go.

Mm, if you must,
Frederick.

I only hope you
won't run into

those other very
dreadful people.

Well, um, considering
what you tell me,

perhaps I won't go
to see them right away,

but after what happened
at Vevey,

I certainly think
I might call on them.

If after what I tell you
you still care to,

you're very welcome.

Of course,
you're not squeamish.

Men may know everyone
and they're welcome
to the privilege.

Oh, now, they may be
ignorant and uncivilized,

but I'm sure there's
nothing bad about them.

Whether or not
being hopelessly vulgar
is being bad

is a question
for the metaphysicans.

They're bad enough
to blush for, at any rate.

Who's the portrait for?

And for this short life,
that's quite enough.

My sons-- I'm presenting each
of them with a copy.

Of course, it's
ludicrously expensive.

Unfortunately, I can never
bring myself to bargain.

I prefer to be robbed.

Have you heard
how a Roman distinguishes

between his pleasures
and his sins?

No, not yet.

His pleasures
are what he enjoys,

and his sins
are what he confesses.

Well, I don't
think the Romans

have had a monopoly
on that characteristic.

No. How was Geneva
this year?

Pleasant.

You've been
staying here?

Yes, but the, uh, boys
are still at school there.

I wish you'd look them up.
They like you.

Oh, I was fairly busy
with my studies.

Hmm... did you see Olga?

On occasion.

Pity she never married.

Is it?

But then there are some
singular stories about her.

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.

Oh, well, pardon me.
I have to be a hostess.

Now, I'm not
through with you.

Well, hello, hello,
Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.

I am so pleased
that you could come.

Madame Miller.

Oh, I want you to meet
the Sinclairs--

they're just lovely people.
They're just...

Well, hello.
Hello, Miss Miller.

Oh, hello,
Mrs. Walker.

I'm ever so happy
to see you.

Oh, and I'm so happy
to see you, my dear.

Oh, and here's your mother,
at last.

I know you.

And I know you.

How are you, Randolph?

How's your
education coming?

Well. I declare.

I told you
I'd come.

Well, I didn't
believe it.

Hmm, thank you
very much.

You could've come
to see me, then.

Why, I only
arrived today.

I don't believe
a word of it.

Oh, my dear
Mrs. Miller,

will you
tell your daughter that...

You have the most
beautiful house

in all of Rome,
Mrs. Walker.

You really do.

Well, you should
know, my dear.

From what
I hear,

you've been in
all of them.

We got a bigger
place than this.

More gold
on the walls, too.

I told you if
I brought you,

you'd say
something.

I told you.

It is bigger, too.

Well, I hope
you've been well

since I saw you.

Not very well, sir.

She's got
dyspepsia.

Oh, I'm sorry
to hear that.

I've got it, too.

Father's got it bad,
and I've got it worse.

Ah, too much sugar.

I suffer
from the liver.

I think it's
this climate.

It's less bracing
than Schenectady.

That's where we live...

Oh, yes,
Daisy told me...

...in Schenectady.

I was saying to Daisy

that I certainly
haven't found

anyone like Dr. Davis,
and I don't believe I will.

Oh, in Schenectady,
they think everything
of Dr. Davis.

He has so much to do,

but there's nothing
he wouldn't do for me.

He said he never
saw anything

like my dyspepsia,

but there was nothing
he wouldn't try.

I don't care what
he does to me,

as long as it
affords me relief.

He was just going to try
something new when we left.

Mr. Miller wanted Daisy
to see Europe for herself,

but I couldn't help
writing the other day

that it was all right for
Daisy, but I didn't know

if I could get on much
longer without Dr. Davis.

In Schenectady, he's
at the very top,

and there's a great deal
of sickness there, too.

It affects my sleep.

Yes, but, apart from that,
you are enjoying Rome?

Well, I must say
I'm disappointed.

Oh?

We'd heard so
much about it.

I suppose we'd
heard too much,

though we
couldn't
help that.

We expected
something
different.

Well, just you wait
a little while,

and I'm sure
you'll grow very fond of it.

I hate it worse
and worse every day.

Oh, well, you're
like the infant Hannibal.

No, I ain't
like any infant!

Well, that's true,
and you never were,

but we've seen places
a long way ahead of Rome.

Oh, uh...
for example?

Well, there's Zurich.

Yes, yes...

Up there in
the mountains.

Well, I think
Zurich's real lovely,

and we didn't hear
half so much about it.

If you ask me,
the best place

we've seen is the
City of Richmond.

He means the ship.

We came over on the
City of Richmond,

though Randolph
had a good time
on the crossing.

Only thing wrong
with the City of Richmond,

it was going
the wrong way.

Well, we'll
turn around

and go the right
way sometime.

Daisy seems
to be happy, anyway.

Oh, yeah, it's
on account

of the society.

The society's splendid.

She goes around
everywhere.

She's made a great
many acquaintances.

So I've heard...

Of course, she
goes around
more than I do.

I must say, they've
all been very sweet.

They've taken
her right in,

and then she knows
a great many gentlemen.

Oh, she thinks there's
nothing like Rome.

Of course, it's a
great deal pleasanter

for a young lady...

I've been telling
Mrs. Walker

how mean you were.

Mean? And what evidence
have you offered?

Why, you were
awfully mean at Vevey.

You wouldn't do
most anything.

You wouldn't even
stay when I asked.

He went off to Geneva.

My dear Miss Miller,

have I come
all the way to Rome

just to be riddled
by your silver shafts?

Just listen
to him say that.

Did you ever hear
anything so quaint?

So quaint,
my dear?

Well, I don't know.
Mrs. Walker...

Mother.
We've got to go.

I want to tell
you something.

Eugenio will raise
something fierce.

I'm not afraid
of Eugenio.

You know I'm coming to
your party, Mrs. Walker.

I'm delighted
to hear it.

I've got a lovely dress.
I'm sure
of that.

But I want to
ask a favor.
Yes?

Permission to
bring a friend.

Well, I'd be
happy to see

any of your
friends.

Oh, they're
not my friends.

They don't take to me.

It's an intimate
friend of mine.

I never spoke
to one of them.

Mr. Giovanelli.
I'd be happy

to have him come.

He's just the finest
kind of Italian.

He's a great
friend of mine

and the handsomest
man in the world,

except for
Mr. Winterbourne.

He knows plenty
of Italians,

but he wants to know
some Americans.

It seems he's crazy
about Americans.

Well...
He's tremendously clever.

I look forward
to meeting
Mr. Giovanelli.

And he sings.
Mother.

He's perfectly lovely.

Eugenio's really
going to raise
something on me.

Well, I guess we'd better
go back to the hotel.

You go back, Mother.

I'm just going to walk
around a little.

She's going to walk
with Mr. Giovanelli.

I'm going to take a walk
on the Pinchio.

Alone, my dear,
at this hour?
It's not safe.

There are lots of people
up there at this hour.

That's exactly
why I don't
think it's safe.

Well, then,
neither do I.

You're sure to catch
a Roman fever.

You've heard what
Dr. Davis told you.

Give her some
of that medicine
before she goes.

Oh, Mrs. Walker,
you're too perfect.

I'm not going alone.

I'm going to
meet a friend.

Mr. Giovanelli.

Oh, your friend
won't keep you

from catching
the fever.

Is it Mr. Giovanelli?

Mr. Giovanelli.

The beautiful
Mr. Giovanelli.

My dear girl,
please take my advice.

Don't prowl off
to the Pinchio at this hour

to meet
a beautiful Italian.

Well, he speaks
first-rate English.

Goodness, I never
heard such a fuss.

I don't want
to do anything

that's going to affect my
health or my character,

but there's an easy
way to settle it.

The Pinchio's only a
hundred yards off,

and, if Mr.
Winterbourne

were half as polite
as he pretends,

he'd offer to walk
me right over.

Oh, I wonder if I might
have the pleasure

of walking you
to the Pinchio, Miss Miller.

Oh, Mr. Winterbourne,
how gracious of you.

Oh, think
nothing of it.

Good-bye, Eugenio.

I'm going
to take a walk.

This is the most
beautiful spot in Rome.

Hmm, it's
renowned to be.

I think it's
more beautiful
than Central Park.

Oh, yes, I would say.

Why haven't you
been to see me?

You can't get
out of that.

But I told you,
I just stepped
off the train.

Then you must've
stayed on the train

a good while
after it stopped.
Oh.

I guess you
were asleep.

You had time to go
see Mrs. Walker.

I knew Mrs. Walker.

I know where you
knew her, too.

You knew her at Geneva.
She told me so.

Well, you knew
me at Vevey.

That's just as good,
so you should've come.

Well, I heard
you hadn't been lacking

in company, anyway.

We've got splendid
rooms at the hotel.

Eugenio says they're
the best rooms in Rome.

Really?
We're going to
stay all winter,

if we don't die
of the fever,

and I guess
we'll stay then.

Well...
It's ever so
much nicer
than I thought.

I thought it'd
be awfully quiet
and terribly poky.

I was sure we'd be going
around all the time

with one of those
dreadful old men

who explain about pictures,
and fireplaces and things.

I see.
But we only had

about a week of that--
now I'm enjoying myself.

I know ever so many people,
and they're all so charming.

The society is very select.

They're all kinds: English,
Germans, Italians...

I think I like
the English best.

I like their style
of conversation,

but there are some
lovely Americans.

Oh, there's lovely...

I never saw anything
so hospitable.

There's something
new every day.

Well, do you
ever go out...?

There's not
much dancing,

but I must say
I never thought

dancing was everything.

I was always fond
of conversation.

I guess I'll have plenty
of that at Mrs. Walker's.

Her rooms are too small
for anything else.

Oh, no.

Now, shall we
buy some candy

for poor
old Randolph?

Oh, all right.

I want that one.

Now I'll walk
you back.

Oh, no. I'm going
to meet Mr. Giovanelli.

Oh, must you?

Of course. He's waiting
around here somewhere.

Well, I'm certainly
not going to help
you find him.

Then I'll find him
without you.

I'm certainly not

going to let
you leave me.

Are you afraid you'll
get lost or run over...
with your lollipop?

Oh, now, see
here, Daisy...

But there he is.

Where?

Leaning against that tree.

He's staring
at all the women.

Did you ever see
anything so cool?

Do you seriously mean
to speak to that thing?

Do I mean
to speak to him?

Why, you don't
think I'm going

to communicate
by signs, do you?

Look here. I hope
you understand

I intend to
come with you.

I don't like the way
you say that.

It's too imperious.
Pardon me,
but the point was

to give you an idea
of my meaning.

I've never allowed
a gentleman to dictate

to me or interfere
with anything I do.

I think that's
just where

your mistake
has been.

You should listen
to a gentleman

sometimes--
the right one.

I do nothing

but listen to gentlemen.

Tell me if
Mr. Giovanelli's the right one.

No, he's not
the right one.

Come now, I want
you to tell me

everything
you've done today,

aside from
getting dressed,

which must
affect most of us.

Miss Miller is
the most amusing

young lady
I never meet.
Ever meet.

Ever meet. Grazie.
Prego.

You're American, no?
Yes.

Yes.
Well,
so he claims

but he never
lives there.

Ah, you don't like.

Not at all.
I've simply been

traveling abroad,
studying at Geneva.

Mm-hmm.

I like America.

You've been?

Please?

You've been
to America?

Oh, no, never.
Ever?
Never.

Never. See, now,
I go there one day.

Mmm.

I don't like
Italians so much.

Oh, I do.

Well, because
you've very genteel--

How do you say...?

Nice.

Very nice. Grazie.

Thank you.

No, thank you, you.

Mr. Winterbourne,
Mr. Winterbourne.
Yes.

Mr. Winterbourne?
Si.

Mrs. Walker
just there.

She ask you,
you come.

Wha-What-what? Oh.

Oh, excuse
me a moment.

Women follow
wherever he goes.

I'll be right back.

Good afternoon.
What brings you here?

This is really
too dreadful.

That crazy girl
mustn't be allowed

to do this
sort of thing,

walking here like this
with two men.

50 people have noticed her.

Well, I think it's a shame
to make too much fuss about it.

It's also a shame
to let the girl ruin herself.

Oh, she's
very innocent.

She's very reckless...
and, left to herself,

goodness knows
how far it may go.

I mean, did you ever see

anything so blatantly
imbecile as the mother...

allowing her daughter to...

I mean, after you left,

I couldn't sit still
thinking about it.

Thank heavens
I've found you.

And what do you plan
to do with us now?

If she will get in and ride
about with me for a while,

it will seem as though
it's all arranged.

At least that way
the world will see

that she's not running
absolutely wild.

Ask her to step
over here, would you?

I really don't think

it's a very
happy idea, but,

uh... you're free to try.

Oh, sure...

Well, hello, again,
Mrs. Walker.

I'm just enchanted
to have a chance

to introduce you
to Mr. Giovanelli.

This is he.
Mr. Giovanelli,

this is the famous
Mrs. Walker

who so sweetly
asked you to a party.

I'm most
honored.
How do
you do?

I declare,
that is

the loveliest carriage rug

I ever saw anywhere.
Isn't it lovely?

I'm glad
you like it.

Why don't
you get in

and let me put
it over you?

Oh, no, thank you.

I'll like it
ever so much more

watching you
drive around with it.

Oh, do get in
and drive about with me.

That would be charming,

but it's so fascinating
just as I am.

Well, it may
be fascinating, my dear,

but it's not the custom here.

Well, it ought to be, then.
If I didn't walk, I'd expire.

Well, you should walk
with your mother, dear.

With my mother, dear?

My mother never walked
ten steps in her life,

and, then, you know,
I'm more than five years old.

You're old enough
to be more reasonable.

You're old enough,
dear Miss Miller,

to be talked about.

Talked about?
What do you mean?

Come into my carriage,
and I will tell you.

I don't think I want
to know what you mean.

I don't think I'd like it.

I think you should know,
Miss Miller.

I think it's time you did,

or do you prefer being thought
a very reckless girl?

Gracious me.

Does Mr. Winterbourne think
that to save our reputation

I ought to get
in the carriage?

I think you should
get into the carriage.

Oh, I never heard anything
so stiff.

If this isn't proper,
Mrs. Walker,

then I'm improper,
and you should give me right up.

Good-bye. I hope you
have a lovely ride.

Get in this.

I really feel I should
accompany her, don't you?

Mr. Winterbourne,
if you don't get in here,

I shall never speak
to you again.

All right. Just a moment.

Here he comes at last.

I'm very sorry,
but she insists
I ride with her.

Will you...forgive me?

That wasn't
very clever of you.

I don't wish
to be clever.

Only honest in cases
like this.

Well, your honesty's
only put her off.

It's happened very well.

If she's so determined
to compromise herself,

the sooner one knows it,
the better.

She meant no harm,
you know.

One can act accordingly,

or that's what I
thought, a month ago,

but she's been
going too far.

Well, what's she been doing,
for heaven's sake?

Everything that's
not done here.

Oh.

Flirting with any man
she can pick up,

sitting in corners
with mysterious Italians,

dancing all evening
with the same partner,

receiving callers
at 11:00 at night.

Her mother melts away
when they come.

But her brother sits up
till 2:00 in the morning.

So he must be edified
by what he sees.

I'm told that
at their hotel

everyone's talking
about her,

and that a smile goes
around the servants

when a gentleman comes
and asks for Miss Miller.

I don't think we should pay
any attention to servants.

The girl's only fault

is she thinks
Giovanelli's a gentleman.

Of course, he isn't even
a very good imitation.

There you are.

He's a penny-a-liner--
some third-rate artist,

but how can she know?

She's naturally
indelicate.

He's not bad-looking.

How long had
you known her
at Vevey?

A couple of days.

Imagine her making
that remark

about your going
to Geneva.

Yes. Taste never has been

the Miller family's
strongest point.

On the other hand,
Mrs. Walker,

perhaps you
and I have lived
too long at Geneva.

I really think you should stop.

Stop?

Encouraging the girl,
flirting with her yourself,

giving her any further
opportunity to expose herself.

Let her alone.

I'm afraid I can't do anything
quite as enlightened as that.

I like her very much, you know.

Well, all the more reason

you shouldn't help her
to make a scandal.

Well, you may be sure

there'd be nothing scandalous
in my attentions.

Well, I've said what I had to.

If you wish to rejoin
the young lady

you have a chance.

I believe I will.

As you wish.

Madame Miller.

Finally.

Excuse me a moment.

I wouldn't miss this.

Uh, no, I've come
all alone, you see.

I'm so frightened,
I don't know what to do.

It's the first time
I've ever been to a party alone,

especially in Italy.

I wanted to bring Randolph,
or Eugenio, or someone,

but Daisy just pushed me
off by myself.

And doesn't your
daughter intend...?

I'm not used
to going around alone.

...to favor us
with her company?

Oh, well, Daisy's all dressed.

She got dressed on purpose
before dinner,

but she's got a friend
of hers there--

the gentleman
she wanted to bring.

Mr. Giovanelli, yes.

The handsomest of the Italians.

I've had the pleasure.

Well, they got going
at the piano.

Seems they couldn't stop.

Mr. Giovanelli does sing
splendidly...

but I guess they'll come
before very long.

I'm sorry she's coming
in that way.

Well, I told her,

there was no use
getting dressed before...

This is just
horrible, Charles.

She's trying to
take revenge on me.

When she comes,
I won't speak to her.

...no use putting on a dress
like that

just to sit around
with Mr. Giovanelli.

Miss Miller.

I'm afraid you thought
I was never coming.

That's why I sent
Mother off to tell you.

Here, this is for you.

Isn't it pretty?

I wanted to make
Mr. Giovanelli

practice some things
before he came.

You know, he
sings beautifully,

and I want you
to ask him to sing.

This is Mr. Giovanelli.
Yes.

You know, I introduced
him to you.

How do you do?

I'm sorry we are so late.

He's got the most
lovely voice.

He knows the most
charming songs.

I made him go over
them tonight on purpose.

We had the greatest time
at the hotel.

Is there anyone
here I know?

I think everyone knows you.

You are hungry?

Oh, yes, yes.

Well, let's go.
Mother...

Daisy, did you ever
get Randolph to bed?

Well, he said Mr. Giovanelli's
singing kept him awake...

I do hope
this is the finale.

I still haven't
managed to find out

who finally
asked him to sing.

Daisy Miller.

Apparently not.
She's too busy chattering.

Look, she's
worked her way

over to your
old college chum.

It's a shame these rooms
are so small. We can't da...

I'm not too sorry.
I can't dance a step.

Of course you can't.

Your legs would be stiff

cooped up in that carriage
all that time.

Well, they were
quite restless there.

They really wanted
to walk beside you.

Oh, well, we paired off.
That was much better.

My other friend,
my friend in need, stuck by me.

He seems more in control
of his limbs than you are.

I'll say that for him.

But did you ever hear
anything so cool

as Mrs. Walker's wanting me
to get into her carriage

and drop poor Mr. Giovanelli,

and all supposedly
just to be proper.

People surely do
have different ideas.

It surely wouldn't
have been very kind.

He's been talking about
that walk for ten days.

He shouldn't have talked
about it at all.

He'd never dare ask
a young Italian lady

to walk about the streets
of Rome with him.

About the streets?

Well, then,
where would he
ask her to walk?

Besides, Pinchio's not
the streets anyway,

and thank goodness
I'm not a young
Italian lady.

Young Italian ladies
must have a dreadfully

poky time of it,
if you ask me.

Why should I change
my habits for them?

I'm afraid you have the habits
of a ruthless flirt.

Of course, I do.

I'm a terrible,
frightful flirt.

Did you ever hear
of a nice girl
that wasn't?

But now I guess
you'll tell me I'm
not a nice girl.

Uh, you're a very nice girl,
but I wish you...

What?

I wish you'd flirt
only with me.

Oh, thank you.
Thank you very much.

But you're the last person
I'd think of flirting with.

I told you--
you're too stiff.

You say that too often.

If I thought I could
make you angry,

I'd say it again.

Well, don't. When I'm angry,
I'm stiffer than ever.

Oh, I'd like
to see that.

But if you won't
flirt with me,

at least stop flirting
with your friend at the piano.

They don't understand
that sort of thing here.

Really? I thought they
understood nothing else.

Not in young,
unmarried women.

Well, it seems to me
ever so much more proper

in a young, unmarried woman
than an old married one.

Flirting is a purely
American custom, Miss Miller.

It doesn't exist here.

So when you go
about in public
with Mr. Giovanelli,

and without your mother...

Goodness me,
poor mother.

...and though
you may be flirting,

Mr. Giovanelli is not.

He means something else.

Well, at least
he isn't preaching.

And if you
really want to know,

neither of us is
flirting, not a speck.

We're too good
friends for that.

We're real
intimate friends.

I see.

Well, if you're in love
with each other,

it's quite another affair,
isn't it?

Mr. Giovanelli
at least...

Mr. Giovanelli
never says

such very unpleasant
things to me.

Grazie, grazie, grazie.

Do you want
some tea? Yes?

In the other room.

It never occurred
to Mr. Winterbourne

to offer me any tea.

I've offered you
some good advice.

I prefer weak tea.

Well, you sang
beautifully.

I just love that song.

I don't care
what he does to me,

as long as he brings me
what I need.

But I must say,

the climate in Rome is less
bracing than Schenectady,

especially in winter.

That's where we live--
in Schenectady.

I was saying to Daisy

that I certainly haven't found
anyone like Dr. Davis,

and I don't believe I will.

Oh, but Schenectady thinks
everything of Dr. Davis.

There's so much to do,

but there's nothing
he wouldn't do for me.

Your friend hasn't
moved all evening.

Oh, really?

Why don't you
break in, Freddy?

She's a disgrace.

Oh, Mrs. Walker,

I want to thank you
for a serata.

Absolutely delizioso.

Oh, well, I'm so glad
you managed to come.

So nice of you.

We probably should go.
Mother's probably tired.

There she is.

Mother, I know
you're exhausted.

Good night.

Good night.
Good night.

Good night.

Good night.
Thank you so much.

Good night.

Well, good night, Mrs. Walker.

We had ever so nice a time.
I'm sorry...

Good night, Mrs. Walker.
We had a beautiful time.

You see, though I let Daisy
come to parties without me,

I certainly don't want her
to leave them without me.

Good night.

That was very cruel.

She never enters
my drawing room again.

Signore?

Madame Miller, per favore.

Oh... Grazie.

Prego. Buon giorno.

Yeah. Buon giorno.

Signore?

Madame Miller?

Oh... Grazie.

Buena sera, signore.

Buena sera.

That's what makes you

so pensive
these days, eh?

Oh, have I been pensive?

Preoccupied, anyway.

You were supposed to come
by for me this morning.

Was I? I thought
we said to meet here.

No, you see.

I'm sorry.

Your mind's on
other things.

Well, I really
don't know what.

Why, that Miss Baker

or Miss Chandler
or what's-her-name.

Miss Miller.

Yes, and her
intrigue with that...

Intrigue?
...that little
barber's block.

Something carried out
with so much publicity.

Well, that's their folly,
it's not their merit.

I don't think
there's any intrigue.

I've heard a dozen
people speak of it.

They say she's quite
carried away by him.

Well, they're certainly
as thick as thieves.

He's very handsome.

Do you think so?

It's easy to see
how it is.

She thinks him the most
elegant man in the world,

the finest gentleman.

She's never seen
anything like him.

He's better even
than the courier.

Was the courier probably
who introduced them.

Expects a fine
commission, I'm sure,

if the fellow succeeds
in marrying her.

I really don't believe
she has any thought
of marrying him.

I'm not sure she's capable
of thought at all.

I certainly see
no evidence of it.

She romps on
from day to day,

from hour to hour,

saving from
the golden age.

Can imagine nothing
more vulgar.

No, I'm sure that's
much more than

Giovanelli
really expects.

Who?

The little Roman.

My dear Frederick,

she will be telling you
at any moment

that she is engaged,
depend on it.

Well, apparently

he's a perfectly
respectable little man.

A lawyer, I think,

though he doesn't exactly
move in the best circles.

She must be
wonderfully pretty
and interesting to him.

But he can't really
hope to pull it off.

He must see that's too
impossible a piece of luck.

What has he to offer?
He hasn't even a title.

I mean, if only a marquis
or even a count.

Or indeed anyone at all.

Wouldn't it be funny
if they were both

perfectly innocent and
sincere and had no idea

the impression
they're creating?

No, it wouldn't be funny.

Madame Miller, per favore.

Oh. Grazie.

Si?

Oh! Grazie!
Prego.

Grazie!

Prego. Prego, Signore.

Well, if it isn't
Mr. Winterbourne.

Great, good afternoon.

Am I interrupting?

Not at all.

Mr. Giovanelli's learning
an American song.

Perhaps not.

Well, don't just stand there,

come in and
close the door.

Bring that chair over
here and sit down.

I want you to hear this.

Mr. Giovanelli will now sing
the song I've taught him.

Oh, no, no.
It's not possible.

Si, si, it's possible.

Well, hurry up,
Mr. Winterbourne.

Is Randolph out?

Oh, yes.

Eugenio's taken him and
Mother to buy some shoes.

Mother's feet hurt
and Randolph's coming
out of his shoes.

I don't know
what he does to them.

Mr. Winterbourne.
Yes?

Will you sit down?

Mr. Giovanelli,
we're waiting.

No, no, you sing your song.

It's bellissimo.

This is the most difficult
song I never hear.

Ever hear.
Ever hear, grazie.

Prego. Come on,
we're waiting, sing.

Mr. Winterbourne
is getting impatient.

Mr. Winterbourne, please,
you ask her to sing.

I'd enjoy that.

Ah...

You think so.

Well, first we're going
to hear Mr. Giovanelli,

then maybe I'll sing.

Oh, she's always winning.

I have no doubt.

Ready? Here we go.

* When the night walks in
as black as a sheep *

* And the hen and her eggs
are fast asleep *

* Then into her nest
with a serpent's creep *

* Pop goes the weasel *

* Then form two lines
as straight as a string *

* Dance in and out,
then three in a ring *

* Dive under
like a duck and sing *

* Pop goes the weasel *

No, stop it.

Yes.

I can't, not tonight.

* Pop goes the weasel *

* Then form two lines
as straight as a string *

* Then in and out,
then three in a ring *

* Dive under
like a duck and sing *

* Pop goes the weasel. *

Bravo. Encore.

No, no, I think he's
heard me enough.

I play for you, now.

Would you like that?

Very much.

All right.

* To watch the scene below *

* The creek and the creaking
old mill, Maggie *

* As we used to long ago *

* The green grove is gone
from the hill, Maggie *

* Where first
the daisies sprung *

* The creaking old mill *

* Is still, Maggie *

* Since you and I were young *

* And now we are aged
and gray, Maggie *

* And the trials of life
nearly done *

* Let us sing of the days
that are gone, Maggie *

* When you and I were young. *

Grazie.

Bravo, bravo.

Grazie, maestro.

Oh...

here's mother.

Uh, good afternoon,
Mrs. Miller.
Buena sera.

Daisy, is Randolph here?
Did he come back?

I thought he
was with you.

Well, he was, but we were
buying some shoes

and he just ran
right out of the store.

Eugenio is looking for him.

I thought maybe he came home.

I declare, that boy's going
to be the death of me.

Just wished Dr. Davis was here.

Is there something
I can do?

Oh, no... oh.

Allow me, please.

Seem to be
so many different pieces.

He has the best
manners, doesn't he?

In there.
Excuse me.

Mr. Giovanelli's
going to practice

his new song
for you both.

Oh, no.

Oh, yes...

She's always teasing
that poor Mr. Giovanelli.

I don't know how he
stands it, but he does.

They're always together.

Yes, I've noticed.

They're certainly
very intimate.

Oh, it seems as if
they couldn't live
without each other.

Yes.

Well, he's a real
gentleman anyway.

But I guess I have the
joke on Daisy, though.

The joke?

Well, that she
must be engaged.

And how does your daughter
take the joke?

Oh, she says
she ain't.

I see.

She might as well be.

She goes on
as if she was.

I'm afraid I must be going.

But I've made Mr. Giovanelli

promise to tell me
if Daisy does it.

I'd want to write
Mr. Miller about it,
wouldn't you?

Well, I imagine so.

Perhaps you'll say
good-bye to Daisy for me.

Oh, yes, I will.

And if you see Randolph,

please tell him to come
home right away, won't you?

Of course. Good day.

Good day.

Randolph.

Now where's
Eugenio?

Looking for me.

Mr. Winterbourne.

Well, I should think
you'd be lonesome.

Lonesome?

Always going around by yourself.

Can't you get anyone
to walk with you?

I'm not as lucky as
your gallant companion.

I know why you say that.

You think I go around
too much with him.

Everyone does,
if you care to know.

Of course I care to know,

but I don't believe
a word of it.

They're only pretending
to be shocked.

They don't really care
a straw what I do.

Hmm, I think you'll
find they do.

Besides, I don't
go around so much.

And they'll show it,
unpleasantly.

How unpleasantly?

They're already not
inviting you places.

Haven't you
noticed anything?

I've noticed you,
but then I noticed

you were stiff as a ramrod
the first time I ever saw you.

Well, you'll find I'm not
half as stiff as some others.

How will I?

Try going to see them.

What will they do
to me?

They'll give you
the cold shoulder.

Do you know
what that means?

You mean the way
Mrs. Walker did
the other night?

That's exactly
what I mean.

I wouldn't think
you'd let people
be so unkind.

How can I help it?

I would think you'd want
to say something.

I do want
to say something.

Oh?
Do you?

I want to say that...

Yes?

Your mother says
she believes you're engaged.

Well, I guess she does.

And does Randolph
believe it?

Oh, I don't think Randolph
believes anything.

But since you've mentioned it,
I am engaged.

You don't believe it!

Yes, I do.

For you!

Grazie.

Prego.

You will walk
with us?

No, thank you.

No, you don't believe it.

But if you possibly do,
well, I'm not!

... and she wants me to come
to Geneva with her this summer.

Her brother's still
at school there.

You know them, don't you?

Freddy?
Hmm?

Really!
I'm sorry.

You didn't say ten words
all through dinner.

What's the matter with you?

I don't know.

I saw her today.

You did?
Mm-hmm.

Where?
At the D'Orio Palace.

Right under that portrait
of the Pope by Velázquez.

Was she alone?

Well, no...
with that little Italian

who's always got a stack
of flowers in his button hole.

She's certainly pretty.

Yes.

She's a mystery.

What?

I can't decide if she's
really reckless or really...

Innocent?

Yes, I suppose.

Well, no one can say
you aren't gallant.

I hear she's about
at all hours with that Italian,

and not always in the most
refined surroundings.

Oh...

Maybe she's just
an American girl,
and that's that.

All right.

What do you say we both go back
to Geneva this summer?

Well, it's a hopeless
puzzle, anyway.

Whatever it is I've missed
about her, it's too late now.

She's obviously carried
away with Giovanelli.

I don't think
you've missed a thing.

Listen, do you mind?

I'd like to walk the
rest of the way.

What?!
It's all right.

Are you sure?

Yes, it's such
a lovely evening.

I feel like some air.

Will I see you
at the opera next week?

Of course.

Cheer up.
Be a grand summer!

Well, he looks at us

like one of those old lions
or tigers

must have looked
at the Christians.

Well, let us hope
he isn't hungry.

He eats me first,
and you for dessert.

Well, that was
Mr. Winterbourne.

He sees me,
and he cuts me dead.

How long have you been
pulling about here?

Well!

I guess all evening.

I see.

I never saw
anything so quaint.

Well, I'm afraid you won't think

a bad attack of malaria
is very quaint.

That's what
the Roman fever
is, you know.

This is just the way
people catch it.

I'm really surprised
a Roman

could be so
extraordinarily rash.

Ah, for myself,
I have no fear.

Well, neither have I, for you.

I'm speaking
for this young lady.

I assured
Miss Miller

it was a serious
indiscretion.

I was never sick,
and I don't mean to be.

But when was
Mademoiselle ever--?

I'm as healthy
as a horse.

I was bound to see the
Coliseum by moonlight.

I wouldn't have wanted
to go home without that.

We've had the most
beautiful time.

Haven't we,
Mr. Giovanelli?
Oh, yes.

If there's any
danger, Eugenio can
give me some pills.

Eugenio's got
some splendid pills.

Then I advise you to drive home

as quickly as possible
and take one.

What he says is very good.

I go to see if
the carriage is there.

Well, I have seen
the Coliseum by moonlight.

That's one thing
I can rave about.

There ain't no Coliseum
in Schenectady yet.

Why are you always so stiff?

Hmm!

Did you believe
I was engaged the other day?

It doesn't really matter now
what I believed the other day.

Well, what do you believe now?

I believe it makes
very little difference

whether you're engaged or not.

Quick, quick!

If we are home by midnight,
we are quite safe.

I do hope

you won't forget
Eugenio's pills.

I don't care if I have
the Roman fever or not.

Well, I heard
that she spent

the entire night
with that man alone.

Well! Just
imagine!

I'd rather not.

Do you believe
it's true?

It was after
midnight when
she came home.

I blame
the mother.

Oh, ladies...

Freddy! Freddy!

Where have you been all week?

Oh, I went to the seashore
for a few days.

Actually, I'm going back
to Geneva tomorrow.

I just came by
to pick up some things

and say good-bye to my aunt.

And Mrs. Walker, I hope.
She's over there. Will you?

All right.

...most alarming...

Is she
in the hospital?

No, her mother's
taking care of her,

but she's seen
several doctors.

Well, I must say,
I'm not surprised.

Uh, Charles?

Yes, of course.
Bye-bye!

Yes, what?

What do you hear
about Daisy Miller?

Oh, that's right.
You've been away.

You haven't
heard.
Heard what?

The silly girl's caught
the Roman fever.

They say she's really very ill.

Apparently,
she stayed out too...

Freddy?!
Where are you going?

Freddy?

Going around at night
that way.

That's what's made her so sick.

She's always going around
at night.

I wouldn't think
she'd want to.

It's so blasted dark over here,

you can't see anything
unless the moon's up.

It's not like that in America.

Ain't that right,
Eugenio?

So dark over here.

Mm.

This way, Doctor.

Randolph,
aren't you in bed yet?

I'm going.

Thank you very much.

Uh, Mrs. Miller.

Why, Mr. Winterbourne.

Good evening.

Excuse my coming
so late.

I've been out
of the city.

I only just heard.

How is she?

Oh, the doctor
says he can't tell.

I do wish Dr. Davis
were here.

He's our doctor
in Schenectady.

Yes, I know.

Is there anything
I can do?

Oh, no, thank you.

It's just this fever.

I wish Randolph
would go to bed.

But he's been
very helpful, too,

in his way.

That Italian doctor
said it's a very bad case.

I guess he must be right.

Her fever's been so high.

Well, then I'm sure
she'll be better soon.

It always gets
very high before
it drops.

Daisy spoke of you
the other day quite pleasantly.

Oh?

Half the time
she doesn't know
what she's saying,

but this time
I think she did.

She gave me a message
she told me to tell you.

She says she never
was engaged

to that Mr. Giovanelli
who was always around.

I'm sure I'm very glad.

He hasn't been near her
since she was taken ill.

I thought he was
such a gentleman,

but I don't call that
very polite.

A lady told me

she thought he was afraid
I didn't approve

of his being around
with her so much evenings.

I guess I don't see
the point now,

but you'd think
he knows I'm a lady

and wouldn't raise
a fuss.

He underestimates you.

Anyway, she wants you to know
she's not engaged.

I don't know why
she makes so much of it,

but she said to me
three times

she said, "Mind you tell
Mr. Winterbourne."

And then she told me to ask
if you remembered the time

you went up to that castle
in Switzerland.

I said I wouldn't give
any such message as that,

only if she's not engaged,

I guess I'm glad
to know it, too.

Signore!

Amen.

She was the most
beautiful young lady

I never seen.

And...

...the most amiable.

And she was
the most innocent.

The most innocent?

Yes, the most innocent.

Then why the devil did you
take her to that... place?

For myself,
I had no fear.

She...
Yes?

She did what she liked.

She did what she liked.

If she had lived,
I would have got nothing.

She never would have
married me, I'm sure.

She never would
have married you.

I hoped so, but no.

I'm convinced.

I'm sure.

Time to go, I guess.

It's on my conscience,
you see?

I'm afraid I did her
an injustice.

Did you? How?

She sent me a message
before she died.

I didn't understand it
at the time,

but I've understood it since.

I think she would have...
appreciated my esteem.

COSTELLO:
Is that some modest way
of saying

you think she would have
reciprocated your affection

had you shown it?

You were right, you know?

That remark you made
last summer?

I was booked to make
a mistake.

I've lived too long
in foreign parts.

* And now we are aged
and gray, Maggie *

* And the trials of life
nearly done *

* Let us sing of the days
that are gone, Maggie *

* When you and I were young. *