I'll Never Forget You (1951) - full transcript

Forsyth to Control.
Entering cyclotron pit.

Standish speaking.
Bring up the pile to 1,000 kilowatts.

Pile operating at maximum power, Dr. Ronson.
- Tell Standish to proceed.

You remain here. We'll follow
the experiment from the recording room.

Pile operating to 1,000 kilowatts.

All right to proceed, Dr. Standish.

Forsyth to Control.
Proceeding on schedule.

We are ready for the canister now.

I am now operating the master slave.

I'm removing capsule ?X?
from the canister.

Holding the capsule in my right.
No glare.



Am now pouring the bead
into the dish.

Am arranging the tools,
and in a few seconds will open capsule ?B.?

There is no glare.
Radiation is not excessive.

Sample is hot and apparently
in the process of disintegrating.

Forsyth is checking instruments.

Camera reading nil.
Standish is about to open capsule ?B.?

Canister is open. Am removing capsule ?B.?

Sample is exposed.

Glare developing.
- Gamma developing rapidly.

9.5... 10... 10.5.

Gamma: 11.

Capsule ?X? is reacting.

Am combining ?X? and ?B.?

Gamma developing rapidly.



Much glare.
A reaction has begun.

The heat will affect their instruments.

Gamma reading: 12.
Metal reacting.

Much glare. Reaction mounting fast.

Another method of combination
has to be found.

Ronson to Cave.
Stop the reaction and cease experiment.

I say again, cease the experiment.
- Shall I stop it?

Not yet.
Continuing experiment.

Much glare.
Interferes with vision.

Heat developing rapidly.
Metal instruments affected.

Lead unsatisfactory.
Element very unstable.

Now breaking down.
Concluding experiment.

I say again, concluding experiment.

Damping ?X? and ?B.?
Start blowers.

Some sort of autocatalytic damping
has to be developed...

with a minimum pulse effect
of two minutes duration.

Less than that is dangerous.
Fission begins instantly.

All right.

Meanwhile, you're not to carry out
any further experiments.

Well, I'm sorry.
I thought it was safe.

It wasn't. You may be
a brilliant physicist, Dr. Standish...

but we do not conduct our work here
on a trial and error basis.

One error could be disastrous.

You'll give me a chemical analysis?
- It'll take two or three days.

Your count's a trifle high,
Dr. Forsyth.

Don't worry about it till I glow after dark.

Can I give you a lift up to London?

Thanks.
- All right, I'll see you on the car park.

Roger, I'm worried about Standish.

I think he's due for a rest.
Have a talk with him.

You know him better than any of us here.
- Yes, I suppose I do.

See if you could persuade him to go away
for a few weeks. Bit of fishing or something.

I shall have to spare him somehow.

It?s funny. When I say I know him,
I?m not sure I really do.

All I know are just facts.

American.
No family.

Graduated from M.I.T.
top man of his class.

Specialized in nuclear physics
at Los Alamos.

Outside that, there isn't much.
- He is a reserved sort of chap.

Introspective.
- Well, keep an eye on him.

Thanks for the ride, Roger.

Looks like rain.

Well, aren't you going
to ask me in for a drink?

Oh, of course.
Come in.

This is very elegant.
I didn't know you were so frightfully rich.

I?m not.
A distant relative of mine-

a man named Pettigrew -
left it to me.

Years ago, it belonged to
an ancestor of mine, also an American.

Come on in.

Old Pettigrew didn't do
much modernizing.

Oh, no, he left it
just as he found it.

Aside from electricity and plumbing,
it's just as it was 200 years ago.

It's the only one left in the square.
- It's very grand.

It?s beautiful.
But living all alone here-

It's wonderful.
- I?m sorry.

It would give me the willies.

Take off your coat.

You know, you might have sat
for that yourself. It's a Reynolds, isn't it?

I did sit for it.

I mean, that's my ancestor.

His name was Peter Standish too.
Soda?

Yes, please.

You know, Peter, it's surprising
how little I know about you...

even though we've
worked together for so long.

I had no idea you lived
in a place like this.

You're a sort of mystery man
even to your friends.

You keep to yourself a great deal,
never go to parties when you're invited.

My sister's still annoyed with you, by the way.
She's very anxious to meet you.

Well, I've - I?ve been doing
quite a bit of research lately.

Not at the laboratory.
A sort of hobby.

If you ask me,
you've been overdoing it all around.

Look, Peter, what about
going away for a few weeks?

I am.
- Oh, that's good.

Where?

I am going away.

This-This may startle you...

but I?m going back -
back to the 18th century.

These old English houses
give people strange ideas sometimes.

I have an uncle who used
to see ghosts every afternoon at tea.

He's in parliament now.

Roger, I believe the 18th century
still exists.

It?s all around us
if only we could find it.

Put it this way.
Polaris, the north star, is very bright...

yet its light takes
nearly 50 years to reach us.

For all we know,
Polaris may have ceased to exist...

somewhere around 1900,
yet we still see it.

Its past is our present.

As far as Polaris is concerned, Teddy Roosevelt
is just going back down San Juan Hill.

I think I shall have another drink.

Henry James expressed it like this.

You're on a winding stream in a boat.

You watch the banks as they pass.

Upstream,
you went by a grove of maple trees.

But you can't see them anymore
because they're in the past.

Now you're going by a field of clover.
That becomes the present.

Now, you don't know what's ahead of you
or around the bend in the stream.

Maybe wonderful things, but you won't be able
to see them until you get around the bend...

into the future.

But suppose I?m in a plane above you.
I?m looking down at it all.

I see the maple trees,
the clover field and around the bend.

Your past, your present
and your future.

They're all one
to the man in the plane...

so that time, real time,
is all one.

With symbolic logic
and Einstein's mathematics...

I can conclusively prove
that two and two are two.

But this-

That man is dead, long ago.
- I tell you, he's alive.

Not here, not now,
but he does exist...

back there in his own time.

We'll change places for a while.

He'll take my place,
I?ll take his... in the year 1784.

I?m going back into that wonderful age.

Forget it, Peter.
Give it up.

You're beginning to believe me.
- Not quite.

But I?m beginning to believe
that you believe it.

Peter, this house isn't good for you.
You've got to get out of it.

I?m at home here.

All I love is in this house.

This is London in the 18th century.

The Age of Reason -

of dignity and grace,
of quiet and some peace.

Come out of this house, Peter.
It's not good for you.

Come upstairs.

You're tying to escape from something.
That's why you're so obsessed with all this.

What are you running away from?

Let's say I don't like my work
and let it go at that.

Oh, I see. The occupational disease
of the nuclear physicist.

The old familiar cry.
?Stop the world, I want to get off.?

You call it escape.
I call it adventure.

Read this.

?June 12, 1784.
For many weeks...

?Peter Standish, Esquire,
has been possessed with strange fancies.

?On this day, in a fit of madness...

?he declared before witnesses that he was
from the future and could foretell history.

?At the instance of
his friends and relatives...

he was removed to a madhouse.?

It was in the diary of Peter Standish.

I found it here in the attic.

It?s what started me
thinking about all this.

You see, Roger...

Peter Standish never
went to that madhouse.

A few days later,
he was declared normal again.

He married Kate Pettigrew.
They had two children...

and he died here in this house
quietly and peacefully at the age of 63.

The man who said he was from the future
and could foretell history -

The man who was committed
to a lunatic asylum...

was another Peter Standish - me.

Look, Peter, drop it.

I have no choice.
It's already happened long ago.

It's all here.

My passport to the past.

Manners, customs, history,
even to the costumes that they wore.

Peter Standish arrived from America
23rd of April...

the same day as this, 1784.

The trip took 27 days
in a ship called the General Wolfe.

On board he made friends-
a Major Clinton.

His letters to Kate Pettigrew,
whom he'd never met.

He arrived just before Kate's birthday.

I even know about the cashmere shawl
Kate's aunt sent her from the county.

And this...

the letter Peter Standish wrote Lady Anne,
Kate's mother...

the day he arrived
from New York - today.

There was a storm that day, Roger...

like this storm.

Why don't you come out
and have some dinner with me?

No, thanks.

Peter, I think I?ll
stay the night with you.

No. Thanks, Roger.

Look, suppose -
suppose you do go.

How does it happen?
- I don't know.

How do you get back?
Do you get back?

I don't know.

We've all been
working under strain.

Why don't you come down
to the county with me?

A few days' rest,
you'll forget all these wild ideas.

Good-bye, Roger.

Peter, don't go back into that house.

Good-bye, Roger.

Are you hurt, sir?

I said, are you hurt, sir?

No.

No, I?m all right.
What happened?

Just as you was a-steppin' out of the coach,
a bolt of lightning struck.

Lucky we weren't all
blasted into the next world.

But here we are - Pettigrew House.

A little scorched, maybe, but safe and sound.
Good night, sir.

Good night.

Your servant, sir.

At your service, Cousin.
- Cousin?

Your cousin, sir.
Kate Pettigrew.

Kate Pettigrew.
Of course.

How do you do?
- How do I do what?

I... I mean, honoured to know you.

Forgive me.
I?m a trifle dazed.

There was a bolt of lightning
just as I arrived.

We heard it strike.
It shook the whole house.

I bid you welcome
on my mother's behalf.

Your mother,
the Lady Anne Pettigrew.

I trust she's well?
- Indeed, yes, I thank you.

Mama wished to greet you herself.
but she was detained.

That's not true.

She wanted you to see me at once
so that I might make an impression.

Have I made an impression, Cousin?

You have no idea.

Come, Cousin.
Tell me about your voyage.

You said nothing about it in your letter.
- My letter?

To my mother.

Oh, of course.
My letter from the Blue Boar.

Honoured madam,
I shall do myself the honour...

of waiting on you this afternoon
at half past five.

Have you likewise committed to memory
your letters to me?

Oh, every one.
And all your letters to me.

I know all about us.
We're to be married.

Indeed?
I have not heard of it.

But the letters from your mother -
It's all been arranged.

Hasn't it?

You do not think, sir,
I am permitted to know about such things?

Besides, you have not even asked
Mama's consent to court me.

Well, must I?
- Well, is it not the custom in America?

Uh, not in New York.

These are strange manners
you bring us from the new world.

Egad, fair Cousin.

?Egad.? Egad-

If you would have the declaration formal,
I know how it was done- is done.

Fair Cousin, Miss Pettigrew...

you cannot be insensible to the devotion
I have long entertained for you.

Will you be mine?

Ten thousand welcomes, dear, dear Cousin.
No, don't rise.

Or rather, I mean, do.
I fear we are intruding.

Oh, Lady Anne, forgive me.

Kate's beauty has quite deprived me of my wits.
- Dear lad.

Cousin, may I present our friend,
Mr. Throstle.

Oh, of the Academy of
Painters in Water Colour.

I had not supposed a name
so insignificant-

Oh, I... I?ve been reading about you.

When does the colonial
barbarian arrive, Mum?

I?m deucedly tired of awaiting him.
Deuced if I ain't.

This is my son Tom.

Oh, I?m sorry to have kept you waiting.

You'll find, sir, that whenever I open my mouth,
I invariably thrust my boot into it.

But at any rate,
the jest is against me.

I had thought that
you would arrive in buckskins...

or whatever the fashion is in...

What do you call the colonies now?
- The United States of America.

Oh. A trifle pompous, don't you think?

But after all, it's only temporary.

You Americans will soon come back
to the fold. Mark my words, sir.

You shan't be able
to get along without us.

Oh, I wish I had your knowledge
of foreign affairs.

Oh, it takes years.
Meanwhile, sir, here you are.

Your coat's a better fit than mine,
and your boots are perfection, sir.

Perfection. Yes.
I must show you to the prince, begad.

We must fetch your boxes at once.
- If you will have me, milady.

Oh, but I insist that you remain
with us, dear, dear Cousin.

Perhaps you'd care to count
my teeth, Cousin.

You'll do.
Indeed you will.

Send to the Blue Boar Inn,
and have Mr. Standish's boxes brought here.

And you, Kate, dear,
see that the admiral's room is made ready.

Yes, Mama.
- I?m giving you my husband's room.

Poor man.
He died there, you know.

I shall be honoured to be seen with you, sir.
- After you.

If you like, Cousin Tom
will show you London Town.
- Fine.

Which shall it be first?
Vauxhall Gardens? Ranelagh?

Oh, I want to see everything.
- Ah.

I want to walk the streets and hear
the sounds and breathe the air of London.

I want to go to the theatre
and talk to Dr. Johnson - everything.

There's so much to do.

I mean, for an American,
it's quite an experience...

coming to London for
the first time, that is.

You want to talk to
Dr. Johnson, do you?

You'll have to interrupt him to do that.
- You have no I...

Peter, this is my sister Helen.

Your servant, sir.

Helen?
Your sister?

In my letters, I?ve often mentioned Helen.

Not that I remember.
Surely, I would have remembered.

Perhaps some of
Mama's letters went astray.

Well, not too many, I hope.
- Miss Helen.

You may regard dear Throstle...

as one of the family, Cousin.
- Thomas.

I may go so far as to say as
a prospective brother-in-law, eh, Throstle?

I have not asked as yet.
I?

I have not been encouraged to ask.
- Really, Tom.

You see me in
my natural state, sir - boot in mouth.

Um, you do dance, Cousin?

Not very well, I?m afraid.
- You are modest, sir.

I could not have endured you else.

There's to be a ball here
in a few weeks.

Hundreds of guests have been invited.
I?m almost distracted preparing for it.

The occasion is Kate's birthday.
- Oh, of course.

I remember that.
Your aunt's gift as a birthday present.

Gift? What gift?

Why, the cashmere shawl...
from your aunt.

A linkboy did bring something
from Aunt Caroline this morning.

You sly puss.
You never told me.

But how could you know about the gift?
- Yes, explain, sir.

Is this some sort of conjurer's trick?

I must have got muddled somehow.

'Tis not you that are muddled, sir.

Oh, it's lovely.

But how did you know?

Well, I must have-
I?m afraid I have a terrible headache.

Perhaps our cousin saw
the shawl as he came in.

I couldn't resist peeping at it.
I had the box opened in the hall.

Yes, of course. That was it. And when
I heard your birthday come so soon...

I took it for granted it was a gift.

That explains it.
Even the most mysterious occurrence-

Simple when you understand.
Oh, but your headache, Cousin.

You must rest after so long a journey.

So very long a journey.

Odd sort of card, eh, Throstle?

Atrocious kind of English,
even for an American.

I was wondering about
Miss Katherine's shawl.

He explained that.
- He didn't explain how he knew
it came from your aunt.

Oh, there will never be any furniture
more beautiful than early Hepplewhite.

The wars have left many of us here
in straitened circumstances.

We cannot afford to rid ourselves
Of the old rubbish.

Rubbish? Oh, believe me, your things
will grow more beautiful with time.

Unfortunately, we ladies will not.
And if I am to bewitch you at supper-

Of course, your headache.
You must rest.

We are so, so happy to greet you here,
dear, dear Cousin.

Uh - Oh.

London.

1784.

Come in.

Your boxes, sir.

Come in.

Oh, Cousin.

I was just making sure that everything was here.
- For your headache.

My what? Oh, yes.
That's very kind of you, Helen.

Is it proper for me
to call you Helen?

In as much as you've already done so,
Cousin, yes.

Stay and talk with me for a minute.

Is it proper in America for a lady to remain
alone with a gentleman in his bed chamber?

Yes. Uh, no. No.
I mean, it depends.

At any rate, it's different with us.
We're practically brother and sister.

That is a very feeble reason,
even in London.

I can't understand why just the letters
in which you were mentioned are missing.

It is odd.

You were quite a shock to me.
I?

I knew nothing about you.
I wasn't completely prepared for you.

Are you completely prepared for
everyone else you meet for the first time?

Oh, no, no.
No, of course not.

But I? I found myself
wanting to talk to you...

To? to ask you to help me here.

How can I help you?

It?s all so strange.

Stranger than I thought it would be.
It...

makes me uncomfortable.

You sense that.
I could see that you sense it.

Kate will soon
put you at your ease.

Kate.
I like Kate.

It would be most disastrous if you did not.
- Well, I do.

I? I love her.

Helen, are you really engaged to Mr. Throstle?
- Throstle?

From what Tom said-
- He had no right to say it.

You're not in love with him.
- No one pretends that I am.

However, like all
well-bred young ladies...

I?m expected to do as I?m told...

and wed whomever
my family selects for me.

And have I been selected
for Kate against her wishes?

We're very poor, Cousin.

When our father died,
he left us nothing but debts.

Your marriage to Kate would be
convenient to us, I will not deny.

But should Kate mislike you, she will not
Have you no more than I will have Mr. Throstle.

That's the spirit, Cousin.

Look here.
We'll make a bargain.

I?m to be a part of the family.

I?ll help you get along here,
and you help me.

But I'd forgotten.
I? I know nothing about you.

Perhaps you do marry Throstle after all.

It?s odd there was no mention of you.

I?m, uh-
I?m an American, you know.

I? I just came into this new world.

That's why I?m uncertain.
- Is it?

You mustn't be afraid of me.

I?m not afraid, Cousin.
Just curious.

You speak so oddly at times.
And the shawl?

But I explained that.
- No.

I did.
And it wasn't true.

I hadn't left Kate's gift in the hall,
and yet...

you knew it was a shawl.

Even I didn't know that.

I hadn't opened it.
Your servant, Cousin.

What have you been doing?
- The tying of a cravat, Cousin, is an art.

Tedious, but an art. Would you have me drive
around London looking like a costermonger?

But over an hour-

Tom, dear boy, show our cousin
the nicer parts of London.

Remember, this is his first visit.

La, ma'am,
If that is all he's allowed to see...

I warrant it'll also be his last.

Is it always like this?
- Like what?

The noise and the filth and the smell.

It's no worse than usual.

Don't you put on airs, my lad.
from what I?

From what I hear of New York,
London is a garden of roses.

Cursed luck.
- Oh, don't worry, dear. I?ll look after you.

No doubt you have both
the inclination and the ability, Dolly...

but I?m afraid that
you lack the money.

Oh, never mind.
Jackling's fighting tomorrow night.

You'll get it back then.

I wish they'd allow us ladies to go too.

That he'll win is certain. Unfortunately,
I have to pay this fellow tonight.

I fear we shall have to arrange
Another American loan.

Would you mind, darling?

It'll be a pleasure.
- Here, fellow, count these.

Mr. Standish.
- Cousin Tom is losing?

We thought you looked
a little lonely, and-

He would like me to pay his loses.
- You're a dark one, aren't you?

But I like you.
- Thank you.

How much have I lost, fellow?
- In just a moment, sir.

Your cousin's come to join us, Tom.
- Oh, my apologies.

Here you are. 112 guineas.

But, Cousin, he hasn't finished.

That's right, sir.
112 guineas.

That's just exactly right.

Mrs. Siddons tonight! Buy a bill of the play!

Mrs. Siddons tonight!

We shall be late for the boxing match.
- Mrs. Siddons is playing tonight.

Who cares about that?
She'll not last.

The people seem to like her.
- The people!

Indeed, Cousin, they'll accept
anything that's offered.

Look at him, Cousin. Look at him.
What price your Mendoza now, eh?

It?s uncanny.
It's been going on all the week.

The fellow never makes a mistake.

When you ask him how he knew,
he apologises for it.

Apologises.

Tom, do sit up, dear.
- Some sort of trick, I suppose.

Give me the trick of it.
I'd be out of debt in a week.

But where does he go every day?
What does he do?

I find his language odd at times.

Some of the words he uses
are completely new to me.

There must be
some explanation.

There is.
- What is it?

You said there was a clap of thunder
just before he entered the house.

Mr. Throstle, I must
Ask you to remember? Oh.

Good evening, Lady Anne,
Cousins, Mr. Throstle.

I hope I haven't delayed dinner.
I? I mean supper.

Dinner is what you call
the midday meal, isn't it?
- Yes, indeed.

And what do you call
the midday meal in New York?
- Lunch.

I hope you've been enjoying
Your visit here, Cousin.

Oh, every minute of it, thanks to Tom here.
He's taken me everywhere.

I?ll take you to the races tomorrow,
If you'll tell me which horse is going to win.

Oh, no, not tomorrow.

You haven't forgotten that
you promised to let Kate and me...

watch Sir Joshua
paint your portrait?

No, I haven't forgotten.

Supper is served, milady.
- Thank you.

It appears, sir,
that all London is discussing you.

They say you foretold Mendoza's victory
over the pugilist Jackling.

Can you foretell the future, sir?
- No.

I made a few cockeyed guesses,
that's all.

Cockeyed?

It's an American word, Kate.
We're developing a new language over there.

So I have heard.
You must instruct me in it.

I shall paint no more today.

But, Sir Joshua,
the sitting has just begun.

Something in the face eludes me, really.

The eyes -
they're very strange.

They're beyond all my experience
in human nature.

I cannot catch the expression.

What possible expression
in any face could elude the artist...

who has painted Mrs. Siddons,
the greatest of actresses?

The mistress of all expression.
The tragic muse.

Sir, you make sport of me.
- No, I...

You visited her at the theatre,
and she has broken her word to me.

I?ve never even met her.
- You must have talked with her.
She's violated our trust.

I only say what is common knowledge.

Surely that portrait is finished.

You have painted
The Tragic Muse?

One sitting.
A preliminary sketching, and nothing more.

And the knowledge of it was confined
to Mrs. Siddons and myself.

Oh, but surely it must
have been known that-

Even Mrs. Siddons did not know...

that my title for her portrait
is to be The Tragic Muse.

It was known only to me.

And to the devil.

Miss Pettigrew, I am no longer in a mood
to continue the portrait of your cousin.

I doubt me if I shall ever
be in the mood.

You may leave in your own time.
Good day to you, sir.

Go after him, Peter.
Reason with him.

You seem to have expected this, Cousin.
You knew it would happen.

No. But since it has,
I?m not surprised.

Painters have good eyes.
I wonder what Sir Joshua saw in yours?

Made him afraid of you,
As I am afraid.

Kate.

He mustn't refuse
to finish your portrait.

He'll finish it.

Work, I say!
Work!

Ow!

Alms, sir.
Alms for a gentleman.

Alms for a poor sailor.
Lost me leg fighting the French. Alms.

Alms for a gentleman.

Are you afraid of me too, Helen?

Oh, no.
That is, not afraid.

I couldn't be afraid
of someone I?m sorry for.

Sorry?
- Yes.

Because you're unhappy with us.
You feel so strange here.

Yes, I do.

London is evidently
not what you expected it to be.

Not at all what I expected.

I can't imagine
what America is like.

But I suppose everything's different
Where you come from.

Very different.

You wish you were back
with your own people.

I wish I could help you.

But you do.

Believe me, Helen, if it weren't for you,
London would be unbearable.

When all this
gets to be a nightmare...

there's peace
only when I think of you.

Because you're
not like the others.

You're real to me.

And I?m Kate's sister.

A pretty sight, is it not?
- This is unlike you, Kate.

Our cousin does but pay his respects,
to which no one can object...

as the whole town knows
he's promised to you.

Can you think me jealous, Mum?

It is not that, believe me.

But when I?m with him,
he makes me afraid.

When she is with him,
I?m afraid for her.

Sometimes, I feel your eyes on me
when my back is turned.

I feel you watching me...

And I think you know
who and what I am...

and that you understand.

I know there is some
mystery about you...

and that you're very lonely.

That is all.

But I know in my heart
That you are not evil as some say.

Do you trust me?

Well, you've wondered-
Your whole family's been wondering...

how I?ve spent my afternoons
the past few weeks.

Will you come with me
and let me show you?

I?m early today, Jacob.
We won't be here very long.

Mr. Standish,
I have considered the matter carefully.

I believe our arrangement should end.
- Why?

I, uh-
That is, the Bow Street runners.

If they discover what you're doing here-
- You've been inside, haven't you?

I told you to keep out.
- Please, Mr. Standish.

It was only curiosity.
- Well, curiosity will be your undoing, Jacob.

Now that you've been inside, which are you
more afraid of. me or the Bow Street runners?

You, sir.
- Well, let's have no more talk
Of ending our association.

I assure you,
there's nothing to be afraid of...

Once you understand it.

Give me your hand.

Wait here.

Are you an alchemist?

You mean, can I transform
lead into gold? No.

Although, I couldn't even do that
If I had a cyclotron.

Now this is probably
what frightened Jacob.

It burns.
- Mmm.

It?s harmless.
See?

Here's something might amuse you.

You're not frightened?

Why, it's-
- You remember last week...

you were wondering what I was doing
with that strange-looking box?

I was taking Throstle's picture.

Why, it's truer than any portrait.

Because it's he himself
as he actually is.

And this?

It?s a boat... without sails.

It runs by steam.

And you've invented all these things?
- No.

Other men have invented them,
or will invent them, that is.

Where I come from,
these things are known to every schoolboy.

Where do you come from, Peter?

I come from the future, Helen.

Nearly 200 years in the future.

I can't explain it to you,
even with the knowledge of my century.

Some warp of time and nature.

It?s never happened before.
It may never happen again.

But I?m here.
- Then it's true.

You do see ahead.

You know what will happen
in the years to come.

You believe me then.

I believe you.

I?m here taking another man's place-
your cousin from America.

And he-
Where is he?

In my place, probably.
My world, in my century.

Is that why
you make these things-

to remind you of your other life?
- Not exactly.

You see, when I saw your century
the way it really is-

the disease and the filth
and the cruelty-

I wanted to do something about it.
- I don't understand.

Well, there are men in England now
who are working on all these things.

James Watt and the steam engine.
Dalton and his theory of atoms.

Here's the structure of the atom.
The same with all the rest.

Well, suppose right now...

I could show them how other men years
after them will develop their discoveries?

They'll be afraid.

No. When they see these things,
they'll understand them.

They won't be afraid any more
than you are, Cousin.

We're not really cousins.
We've lost you, Peter.

We're strangers now,
and to you I must seem?

To me, you are the only
real beauty in this ugly century.

Helen, wait.

Why do you not dance, Mr. Throstle?

It?s not to be borne, madam. Helen
has danced with no one else but Standish.

Dear Mr. Throstle,
I can understand your lover's impatience.

But surely you would
have her civil to her cousin.

Civil?

See how she looks into his eyes-
a most passionate civility.

If you mean what I think you mean,
And I think you do...

those are sentiments, sir,
best expressed at the punch bowl.

Precisely my destination, madam.
Your servant.

You haven't danced with Kate
once this evening.

She doesn't seem to want to.
- And you've not talked with anyone.

They're all so anxious
to meet you.

At first they are.
Then I say something wrong.

I can see it in their eyes.
They're all afraid of me, like Kate.

It?s only because you look through us.
You know what we think...

even what we're going to do next...
before we know ourselves.

If I didn't know more
About you than the others...

I might be a little
afraid of you too.

But you're not though, are you?

Talk to people.
Make friends with them.

Be gentle with them
as you are with me.

Helen-
- You must dance with Kate.

People expect it.
- I asked her several times.

Ask her again.
- But I have, again and again.

Just once more then.
I?ll bring her to you.

Oh, Mr. Standish. Mr. Standish.
- Do tell us about the boat.

Look how they crowd round him.

Look at the way he talks. The airs he puts on.
It's a levee, begad. A levee.

If your cousin remains very long in London,
he'll become the fashion.

Oh! That brutal fellow,
the fashion? Yikes.

Why not? It'd be very pleasant
If men were to act like men again.

Your Grace shall be
the first to applaud, I?m sure.

There is one habit of his
which will never become the fashion.

Every morning two serving maids
have to carry buckets of hot water...

up flights of stairs
for him to wash himself.

Washes himself? All over?
- Every morning.

All over? every morning?
- A man could wash his skin away.

Perhaps Americans find bathing
more necessary than other nationalities.

A glass of punch, Cousin?
- Thank you.

It hasn't always been
an eccentricity, Throstle.

You admire the Romans.
They bathed every day.

Only when they became degenerate, sir-
the virile fathers of the Republic.

Or as dirty as you,
I have no doubt.

Miss Kate, will you bear
with my clumsy steps for this dance?

Forgive me, Cousin,
my hand is engaged for this dance.

Delighted, Miss Kate.

And may I have the honour,
Miss Helen...

If only as a reward
for my patient devotion?

I, uh? I don't suppose
you'd care to dance?

Bust me. Is that another American custom?
- Mr. Standish?

Mr. James Boswell.
- Your servant, sir.

I come as the honoured messenger,
sir, of the duchess of Devonshire.

I am to fetch you
at her gracious request...

to converse with her
and Dr. Johnson.

They mean to try my wit, I daresay.
- I believe, sir...

that a conversation piece between yourself
and Dr. Johnson would be well worth hearing.

Care to come along?
- No, thank you.

He'll make a fool of you, sir.

I have no desire to provide a target
for Dr. Johnson's epigrams.

Perhaps I may have one
or two he hasn't heard yet.

I shall be very happy here...
with my friend.

Dr. Johnson.

Your Grace, Mr. Peter Standish.

I am truly honoured, Your Grace.

We have been looking forward
to a conversation with you, Mr. Standish.

A noble prospect for
an American, Your Grace.

Sir, the most noble prospect an American sees
is the ship that will carry him to England.

Do not begrudge us our
poor stretches of wilderness, Doctor.

You upon whose empire
the sun never sets.

Sir, that is the most magnificent compliment
ever paid to Great Britain.

Capital, sir, capital.
I wish I had said that.

You will, Boswell.
You will.

I am told, sir, that you regard
this county as a museum...

and ourselves as specimens
in glass cases.

Oh, I mustn't leave you
with that impression.

Do your best to make another then,
ere we go to our beds.

I cannot bring myself
to delay you, ma'am.

Early to bed and early to rise
makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

And women, sir?

Women, ma'am?
Ordinary women, that is-

should be struck regularly like a Chinese gong.

Is your wit common
to all Americans?

You sparkle even
beside Dr. Johnson.

In the presence of you both,
I feel positively dull.

Oh, madam. Everyone knows that
Georgianna, Duchess of Devonshire...

is the greatest beauty and most
charming wit of the eighteenth century.

Flatterer. Admit that in America
you had never heard of me.

What barbarian has never
heard of the fifth duchess?

Your name in English history
is the finest flower of the Age of Elegance.

We know of your beauty.

Gainsborough has painted you,
hasn't he?

All one's dreams of the time have you
as their central figure-

powerful in politics,
irresistible in love.

Who can compare-

I find your overwhelming compliments
a little disturbing.

You speak about me as-
as if you were reading my obituary-

as we might speak of
Madame de Pompadour - in the past tense.

Oh, Your Grace, surely I? I
never once used the past tense.

But you have been thinking
Of me in the past tense.

Yes, that's it.

Now I know, sir.

You spoke about me...
as if I were already dead.

I did so want
to make an impression.

Mr. Standish, you have made
an indescribable impression.

Dr. Johnson, your arm.

Sir? A word with you.

Perhaps I know the word you have
in mind, Throstle. Jealousy?

I speak of Miss Helen, sir, the lady
to whom I offer the devotion of a lifetime.

Oh, come, Throstle.
You're not yet 50.

I advise you not to offer
a young lady the devotion of a lifetime...

until you're over 70.
- Your self-assurance is magnificent, sir.

You appear to think that no one here
recognizes you for what you are.

What am I, Throstle?

You should know that better than I.

But I will say this.

There is a smell of brimstone about you.

So you think I?m from
the fiery pit, do you?

Laugh if you will,
but others feel the same, even Miss Kate.

What about her?
- She has a growing inclination to break with you.

Kate, break with me?
Listen, Throstle.

Kate and I are going to be married
and have two children. Do you understand?

That's absurd, isn't it?
But you believe it, don't you?

Since you can read Miss Kate's
future so accurately...

perhaps you can inform me
as to Miss Helen.

Helen.

Don't you realize
it's a joke, Throstle?

I don't know anything more
about the future than you do.

My reason tells me as much.

But there are other things
About you, sir...

matters which reason cannot explain.

Oh, dear Cousin Peter.

Uh, Mr. Throstle,
a word with you, please.

Peter, what did you say to the duchess?
She's most upset.

Oh, so that's the reason
for the family gathering?

I only tried to dazzle her
with some famous epigrams.

You seem to have dazzled
her thoroughly enough.

She's frightened half to death.

And you?

Still not frightened.

Tomorrow will find us
the laughingstock of London.

The duchess has taken offence.
All our guests leaving in a fright...

and Kate has danced with
every young man here except Peter.

And you, Mistress Hoity-toity,
barely civil to our dear Mr. Throstle.

I am grateful for even
my few crumbs of attention.
- Oh, dear Mr. Throstle.

Oh, I?m distracted beyond endurance.
- And what about me?

All London is feeling sorry
for me engaged to that- that madman.

Kate.
- And what's amiss with you?

Oh!
- Vapours, vapours.

You have no reason
to be afraid of him.

No more reason than I have
to fear a graveyard at night.

Shame, shame,
to talk thus of your lover.

So his purse be well-lined, naught else
matters about him to anyone else except me.

Can't you see that he's unhappy too?

Dear, dear Peter.

I'd like to be alone with Kate.

Of course, of course.
Just a lover's tiff. nothing more.

Everyone has a cross word
now and then.

Even the admiral, rest his soul,
occasionally spoke harshly to me.

Love, love, love.
And you, you young rake...

you haven't yet asked
Miss Barrymore to dance.

She'll not dance with me.
She has money.

You've been deliberately
avoiding me all evening.

You've not been avoiding my sister, sir.

That fellow Throstle's been upsetting you.
I know what he's been saying.

I don't doubt it.
- A lot?

You know what he said.
You know what I?m thinking now.

You know what will happen next.
You know things no mortal man should know.

I can't blame you for being upset.
It's mostly my fault.

Forget tonight. Go to bed.
You'll be yourself in the morning.

I?ll not be here in the morning. I will
not return to this house while you're here.

And as for our understanding,
you may consider it ended.

Kate, you mustn't break our engagement.
You can't do that.

It didn't happen that way.

How smugly you say it. So you think
there's no limit to your power over women.

They all press after you, don't they?
But no woman will dance with you twice...

or stay with you alone
in a room, except... Helen.

I?ve never been so afraid of anything
in my life as I am of you.

We are going to be married, Kate.

I was afraid to look into your eyes...

but now, look into mine,
and tell me that you love me.

If you believe that
I can see into the future...

then believe this also?
you will marry me.

In God's name,
go back to America...

If that's where you come from.

four o'clock of
a fine spring morning...

and all's well!

four o'clock of
a fine spring morning...

and all's?

Kate has broken off with me.

She's left for our house in the county.

If she could understand you better,
she wouldn't be afraid.

If only you could tell her
about the future.

Tell me, Peter,
I want to see ahead as you do.

I dream about it so.

It's better to dream
than really know.

If I had known the past
as it actually is-

You wouldn't like the future.

Tell me all that happens. Then I can
go to Kate and make her understand.

Help me, Peter.

You remember that light I showed you?

Well, try to imagine that some day there'll be
thousands of those lights all over London-

in the square,
in every house, on every street.

How the people will marvel.

No, they'll think nothing of it.
Nothing at all.

I don't understand.

There aren't words
to make you understand.

But you know these things, Peter.

They're in your mind.
You've seen them.

I could see them, too,
through your eyes.

Let me try.
- Oh, it's not possible.

Let me look.
I will see.

Peter, I?m beginning to see.

Your house-
the drawing room.

Blazing with your magic lights.

Two men talking.

They're dressed so oddly.

One of them is you.

And on the wall
your portrait, finished...

just as you said it would be.

Sunshine. White clouds.

Three huge machines.

They rise into the air.

Airplanes.

Men travel in them.

Below them, water, the ocean.

A huge ship...

no sails, no masts...

and there,
a great cluster of towers.

They climb into the clouds.

A city across the sea.

Oh, it's beautiful.

The future's like
a beautiful dream of heaven.

Oh, Peter, who would want
to leave such a world as that?

There will be some who would.

At any rate,
you've seen the future-

the world I come from,
that I helped make.

Strange and beautiful...

and terrible too.

Do you think you can tell Kate about
What you've seen without her being afraid?

I can't tell her either.

But you've told me.

Only because something happened
that wasn't meant to happen.

I?ve fallen in love with you.

I?ve loved you since
the first moment I saw you.

You know the future.
What becomes of us?

What is my future?

I don't know.

All the others, yes, I? I know everything
about them until the day they each die.

But... not you.

It?s as though-

as though you never existed.

But I do exist,
and only for you...

now, in the future,
and always.

I loved you, Peter,
Before you came here.

I dreamt of you long ago.

I saw you, Peter,
as clearly as I see you now...

coming down a stairway toward me
with a candelabra held high.

Now you're here...

and all the years until
the end of time belong to us.

We two alone.

Oh, my darling...

this isn't my world... or yours.

It isn't my life or yours.

Only these moments are ours.

You must forget me because...

some day soon, I?
I shall have to leave you.

No, Peter.
Stay here and never leave me.

When I kissed Kate...

I was playing a part.

It was another man's kiss
to his betrothed.

But this is a man
who hasn't been born...

kissing the one he loves.

There's never been a kiss
like this since the world began.

Hyah! Where do you think you're going?

Bedlam Lunatic Asylum, where you ought to be.
- You mind your words!

Don't get too near 'em.
They're all as mad as hatters.

Clear the way there.
Clear the way.

Mr. Throstle, we haven't seen you for a week.
- I have been with you in thought.

You've been travelling.
Was it a far journey?

I would travel further and with pleasure
on the errand that brings me here.

Your servant, sir.

Oh, Mr. Tom.
- Hold still, you woman.

Stop it. Mr. Tom.

Well, upon my oath, my dear Throstle,
you might try knocking occasionally.

I wish most particularly
to speak with Lady Anne.

Ah, this way, my dear fellow.
This way.

You've had more than
your share as usual, I see.

What, sir? Drink, sir? Drink doesn't affect me.
Drink has never affected me.

What causes you to stagger then?

The weight of it, my dear fellow.
The sheer weight of it.

Dear Lady Anne.

Dear Mr. Throstle.

We had hoped that your visits here
would not be altogether discontinued...

even if. Uh?

Even if Miss Helen prefers
another suitor to myself?

Things do turn out in a devilish
queer fashion, don't they, sir?

I know of nothing, Thomas, which
has turned out queerly in our house.

And I?ll thank you kindly not to mention it,
even if it has, which as I say, it hasn't.

I will agree with you, madam.
Certainly there is nothing queer...

in preferring your cousin's 10,000 a year
to my fifteen hundred.

You know the world, sir?
- One corner of it, sir, fairly well.

But enough of this, madam.
I have a purpose here.

I?ve been travelling all night
from your daughter Kate.

She's on her way home to convince
Miss Helen to give up this person.

Give up 10,000 pounds?

Of course, I cannot control
your actions, Mr. Throstle...

But I shall be very pleased to see Katherine,
If only to put her under constraint.

I?ll have the leeches to her, sir-
straps, confinement.

And if there's worse, she shall have it.
I?ll commit her to Bedlam Asylum, sir.

It?s rather more likely that Mr. Standish
will be committed to an asylum, madam.

At this very moment,
the Bow Street magistrate...

is examining into his affairs
in Shepherd Market.

What affairs, sir?
- Affairs, madam...

that but a few years ago would have had
your Mr. Standish burned at the stake.

What's this?
A distillation of some kind.

Water perhaps.

Destroy everything
before it destroys us!

What is this device?
- I don't know, sir.

He used to touch it with one of those,
and it made a noise, that's all I know.

But these are only sticks.
- He called them matches.

He'd rub them against something, sir, and light-
- Like this?

This is the quietness
and peace I longed for.

This is the century
I dreamed of finding.

You're happy here?
- With you.

It?s only you have made
this dream come true.

If only it could
be like this always.

But it can be.
It will be.

Come on! Heave! Heave! Move along there!

Heave! Move along there!

Come on! Come on!

Heave!

Move along!

Mr. Standish?

Sir, I hold a warrant from the
secretary of state for the Home Department.

Make no resistance at your peril.
- Who are you?

I am the Bow Street magistrate, sir.

This is Sir William Sutherland, doctor and
master of the Royal College of Physicians.

We have business with you, sir.
- About Bedlam Lunatic Asylum perhaps?

In here, if you please.

This is not for you to hear.

You know what it is, what they want?
- I?ve been expecting it.

Welcome home, Kate.
Greetings, Mr. Throstle.

You wear your triumph well.
- Virtue shall triumph, sir, not I.

Your cousin and this gentleman
have presented a petition...

That you be confined in a lunatic asylum
for the remainder of your natural life.

I must ask you to formally
identify Mr. Standish.

Is he the man?

He is.

What are you doing with my things?

They're being searched for evidence.

Nothing, Your Honour, except this.

The diary - you'll find nothing in that.
No evidence. No real evidence.

An unguarded statement here and there,
a few lucky guesses about the future.

These are not sufficient grounds
for accusing me of madness.

Sir, any court in the world
would accept your establishment...

in Shepherd Market
as evidence of madness.

And worse!

What do you know about
my place in Shepherd Market?

Your infernal laboratory and
all it contained has been destroyed.

Sir William, could I have
a word with you alone?

May I suggest that you
might prefer to wait in the hall?

I shall not keep you long.
- As you wish, Sir William.

Sir William, you are a doctor,
a man of science.

Do you think I?m mad?

Shall we say, Mr. Standish...

that my personal opinions
are not concerned.

I serve the Royal College
and the crown.

I obey their laws.

Perhaps you saw that light
in my laboratory - a lamp.

It?s created by electricity.

Very crude, I grant you, but from that beginning
will come more and more powerful lights...

until they're able to penetrate
through skin and bone-

give a picture of a man's anatomy
or his brain.

A picture that you can study
before starting an operation.

And that's not all by any means.

There's a drug called chloroform that renders
a person unconscious in perfect safety...

so that a surgeon can remove
a gangrenous limb...

or- or perform an abdominal
operation without pain.

Chloroform, you say.

And you suggest, sir, that you could
show me how to work these miracles?

But they're not miracles.

In my time,
every child has heard of X-rays.

Very interesting, Mr. Standish.

Sir William, forgive me.

Those pock marks on your face,
you accept them, don't you?

Even you, an eminent physician.
But in 150 years from now...

everyone born in England will be
saved that disfigurement...

By a simple scratch with a needle
infected with a disease itself.

A vaccination.

Sir William,
we can gain that 150 years.

?June 12, 1784.

?for many weeks, Peter Standish, Esquire,
has been possessed of strange fancies.

On this day,
In a fit of madness?-

I thought I could make you understand,
But you're afraid, aren't you?

You're all afr?

Mr. Standish,
I advise you not to leave here.

Where's Helen?
- Mr. Standish, we do not want you here.

Please leave our house.
Go back to wherever you came from.

Kate! You wicked child.
She's been saying such dreadful things.

I think I shall go mad.

Oh. Oh, dear cousin, I apologise
For what my daughter has said.

Oh, the humiliation!

She's only done what she believes best
for her sister, madam.

I respect her for it.
- I'd do it again to prevent you
from marrying Helen.

I am glad to say there is now no danger
of such a disastrous occurrence.

You have no further rights
in this house, sir, or anywhere else.

You will be transported
to a madhouse.

And I?m proud to be able to tell you
That I am responsible for your removal.

Is she upstairs?
- Miss Pettigrew no longer concerns you, sir.

I have forgiven her and I shall
offer her honourable marriage.

You've forgiven her? Why, you pip-squeak.
You're not even fit to look at her.

Easy, Cousin, I beg of you. Kate.
- I do not fear you, sir.

Be you from heaven or hell.

Why, you posturing, evil-minded,
dirty, little hypocrite!

Get out of my way!

Forgive us, Peter.
Forgive us all.

Perhaps I?m the one who needs forgiveness...
for coming here. They say I?m mad.

They baited you. They forced it on you.
- It doesn't matter anymore.

There's nothing in this world matters
except you.

Helen, I?m going
to stay here with you.

You have to go back to your own world.
You must leave me.

Oh, my darling, I?ve known
all along you must go back.

Each night I?ve said it to myself...

and each morning I'd think,
?Let me have only this one more day.?

This is the last
Of our days together.

But I couldn't face
my own life without you.

I?ll have a life to face, too, Peter.

Don't be sad.

We two alone have been
chosen for this wonder...

out of all the millions
of lovers since time began.

Our love is real-

more real than if you
had been born in my world...

Or I in yours...

because it's a miracle.

We shall be together always.

Not in my time, Peter,
or in yours...

but in God's time.

My father brought this to me from Egypt.
It's a crux ansata.

The symbol of life... and eternity.

I?ve always loved it.

In some strange way I knew my life
and this cross were bound together.

I?ll leave it here for you.

Perhaps no one will find it
until you come.

Maybe it will bridge
the time between us.

Mine while I live...

yours in the world
I shall never see.

Oh, Peter, I shall miss you so.

It?s almost here-
the moment to go back.

But I?ll stay with you. I?ll not go.
- You must.

But you can't want me to go. You do love me.
- With all my heart.

Then I stay here with you.
- You must leave me.

And all my love and joy
will go with you.

Oh, Peter, don't be
too sad in the future...

about a girl
who's been dead so long.

As I grow old, your youth
will seem to me... eternal youth.

Mr. Standish, come out, sir.

I want you to come, as I see you now,
to St. Mark's Churchyard.

To you,
that will be tomorrow.

And yet it will be
generations after I?m dead.

I?ll ask for a stone
with the letters cut deep...

so they won't wear away
before you come to me.

And love me.

Love me.

Love me.

I?ll love you always.

Only you, now...

in my own time...

in yours...

and in whatever
other times may come.

This was our parting.

Peter. Where have you been
all the afternoon?

We've been looking everywhere for you.
- Hello, Roger.

Rushing off like that
without a sense-

You recognize me?
You know me?

Of course I know you.
How have you been, Roger?

Fine. Fine.

How- How have I been?

Well, a little while ago, you told me
I wouldn't be born for 150 years.

For the past seven weeks, you've been
having a nervous breakdown.

This is the first time
you've even known who I am.

I?m all right now.

Really all right.

You've been insisting that you just arrived
from America on a sailing ship.

The General Wolfe.

You said you were here
to marry a girl named Kate.
- Pettigrew.

You started off by tearing
out all the telephones and light switches...

and wrecking my sister
Martha's motorcar.

You said it was
an invention of the devil.

For seven weeks you've been drinking like
a guardsman and swearing like a trooper...

and telling everyone in London
you have 10,000 a year...

but that some other man's
got hold of your money.

If it hadn't been for your reputation
and a lot of fast talking...

they'd have had you in the loony bin
a dozen times by now.

This afternoon Martha and I came to see you
and found you tying to tear the place apart.

Then suddenly you go
flinging out of the house-

Roger. I?ve looked everywhere,
But I can't find him.

He's here.
- How is he?

Helen. It's-

Helen!

This is Martha, my sister.

I?m? I?m sorry.

You remind me of?

You look so much
like someone I knew once.

I seem to know you.
- I should hope so.

Roger and I have been
taking care of you for weeks now.

It can't be.
It's? It's not possible.

Maybe I did have
a nervous breakdown.

Perhaps it was just a hallucination.

And Helen only a part of it.

Peter, where are you going?

We shall be together always...

not in my time, Peter...

or in yours...

but in God's time.

?Here lies in the confident hope...

?of the blessed resurrection
and life eternal...

?the beloved younger daughter
Of Sir John Pettigrew, Admiral of the Blue...

?and Lady Anne Pettigrew...

?the maiden, Helen Pettigrew...

?who departed this life...

?September 17, 1784...

aged, 22 years.?

Only a little while after...

and then she died.

Why did she die so young?

I think... heartbreak.