Hay Fever (1984) - full transcript

Listen to this, Simon.

"Love's a trollop stained with wine,
clawing at the breasts of adolescence.

"Nuzzling, tearing, shrieking, beating.
God, why were we fashioned so?"

The poor girl's potty.

I wish she hadn't sent me
this beastly book.

-I must say something nice about it.
-The binding's very dashing.

She used to be such fun before
she married that gloomy little man.

She was always a fierce pose use.

It's so silly of people to try
and cultivate the artistic temperament.

Au fond, she's just a normal,
bouncing Englishwoman.

-You didn't shave this morning.
-I know I didn't.



But I'm going to in a minute
when I finish this.

I sometimes wish we were more normal
and bouncing, Simon.

Why?

I should like to be a fresh,
open-air girl with a passion for games.

Thank God you're not.

-It would be so soothing.
-Not in this house.

-Where's Mother?
—In the garden, practising.

Practising?

She's learning the names
of all the flowers by heart.

-What's she up to?
-I don't know. Damn, that's crooked.

I always distrust her
when she becomes a squire's lady.

-So do 1.
-She's been at it hard all day.

She tapped the barometer this morning.

She's probably got a plan
about impressing somebody.



I wonder who.

Some dreary, infatuated young man
will appear soon, I expect.

Not today? You don't think
she's asked anyone down today, do you?

I don't know.
Has Father noticed anything?

No, he's too immersed in work.

-Well, perhaps Clara will know.
-Yell for her.

Clara? Clara!

Oh, Simon, I do hope
she hasn't asked anyone down today.

-Why, have you?
-Yes.

Why on earth didn't you tell me?

I didn't think you'd care
one way or another.

-Who is it?
-Richard Greatham.

How exciting. I've never heard of him.

I shouldn't flaunt your ignorance
if I were you, Simon.

-It makes you look silly.
-Well, that's done.

-Everybody's heard of Richard Greatham.
-How lovely for them.

He's a frightfully
well-known diplomatist.

-I met him at the Mainwaring's dance.
-He'll need all his diplomacy here.

I warned him not to expect good manners,

but I do hope you can be
as pleasant to him as you can.

I've never met any diplomatists, Sorel,

but as a class,
I'm extremely prejudiced against them.

They're so suave and polished
and debonair.

You could be a little more polished
without losing caste.

Will he have the papers with him?

—What papers?
'Oh: any papers.

I do wish you'd confine your biting
hourly to your caricatures, Simon.

And I wish you'd confine
your girlish infatuations to London,

not force them
on your defenceless family.

I shall keep him out of your way
as much as possible.

Do, darling.

Clara, has Mother asked anyone down
this weekend?

I don't know, dear.

There isn't much food in the house,
and Amy's got toothache.

There's some oil of cloves somewhere.

Oh, she tried that,
but it only burnt her tongue.

The poor girl's been writhing about
in the scullery like one o'clock.

You didn't forget to put those flowers
in the Japanese room?

The Japanese room
is essentially feminine

and entirely unsuited
to the pet of the Foreign Office.

Shut up, Simon.

You needn't worry, dear.
The room looks lovely.

Just like your mother's dressing room
on a first night.

-How restful.
-Have you told her about your boyfriend?

-Not boyfriend, Clara.
-Oh, well, whatever he is.

I think Sorel's beginning to be
ashamed of us all, Clara.

I don't altogether blame her.
We are very slapdash.

Are you going to leave that picture
in the guest bathroom, dear?

I don't know if it's quite the thing.

Lots of pink, naked women
rolling about in a field.

-Nudity can be very beautiful, Clara.
-Oh, can it?

Perhaps being a dresser for so long
has spoilt me eye for it.

Clara's looking tired.
We ought to have more servants

-and not depend on her so much.
-You know we can never keep them.

You're right
about us being slapdash, Simon.

-I wish we weren't.
-Does it matter?

It must, I think, to other people.

It's not our fault.
It's the way we've been brought up.

If we're clever enough to realise that,

we ought to be clever enough
to change ourselves.

I'm not sure that I want to.

-We're so terribly bad-mannered.
-Not to people we like.

Yes, but the people we like
put up with it because they like us.

What exactly do you mean by bad manners?

Lack of social tricks or small talk?

We never attempt to look after people
when they come down here.

Why should we?
It's loathsome being looked after.

Yes, but people like little attentions.

We've never once asked anyone
if they've slept well.

I consider that an impertinence anyhow.

Well, I'm going to try to improve.

You're only going on like this because
you've got a mania for a diplomatist.

-You'll soon return to normal.
-Abnormal, Simon.

That's what we are. Abnormal.
People stare at us in astonishment

when we say what we consider to be
perfectly ordinary things.

I just remarked
at Frieda's lunch the other day

how nice it would be
if somebody invented something

to make all our faces go up
like the Chinese

because I was so bored
with them going down.

-They thought I was mad.
-It's no use worrying, darling.

We see things differently, I suppose.

And if people don't like it,
they must lump it.

You look awfully dirty, Simon.
What have you been doing?

-Not washing very much.
-Oh, you should, darling, really.

It's so bad for your skin
to leave things about on it.

-Clara says Amy's got toothache.
-Poor dear.

There's some oil of cloves
in my medicine cupboard.

-Who is Amy?
-The scullery maid, I think.

How extraordinary.
She doesn't look Amy a bit, does she?

Much more Flossie.

Give me a cigarette.

Delphiniums are those
stubby red flowers, aren't they?

No, darling, they're tall and blue.

Oh, of course.
The red ones are somebody's name.

Asters, that's it.
I knew it was something opulent.

I do hope Clara's remembered
about the Japanese room.

—The Japanese room?
—Mmm.

I told her to put some flowers in it

and take Simon's flannels
out of the wardrobe drawer.

—So did 1.
-Why?

I've asked Richard Greatham down
for the weekend.

-I didn't think you'd mind.
-Mind?

How dare you do such a thing?

-He's a diplomatist.
-That makes it much worse.

-We must wire and put him off at once.
-It's too late.

Well, tell Clara
to say we've been called away.

That would be extremely rude.
And anyhow, I want to see him.

You mean to sit there in cold blood

and tell me
you've asked a complete stranger

down for the weekend
and that you want to see him?

-I've often done it before.
-I fail to see how that helps matters.

-Where's he going to sleep?
—The Japanese room.

Oh, no, he isn't.
Sandy Tyrell is sleeping there.

There now, what did I tell you?

-Sandy what?
-Tyrell, dear.

Why didn't you tell us, Mother?

I did. I've talked
nothing but Sandy Tyrell for days.

-I adore Sandy Tyrell.
-You've never mentioned him.

-Who is he, Mother?
-He's a perfect darling

and madly in love with me.

Well, it isn't me, really.
It's my celebrated actress-glamour.

But it gives me a divinely cosy feeling.
I met him at Nora Trent's.

I wish you'd give up this sort of thing.

What exactly do you mean
by "this sort of thing", Sorel?

You know perfectly well what I mean.

Are you attempting to criticise me?

I should have thought
that you were above

encouraging silly, callow young men
who are infatuated by your name.

That may be true, but I shall allow
nobody but myself to say it.

I'd hoped you would grow up
a good daughter to me,

-not a critical aunt.
-It's so terribly cheap.

Cheap? Nonsense.
How about your diplomatist?

Surely that's a little different, dear.

If you mean because you happen to be
a vigorous ingénue of 19,

you have the complete monopoly of any
amorous adventure that may be about,

I feel it my firm duty
to disillusion you.

-But, Mother...
-Anyone would think I was 80

the way you go on.

It was a great mistake
not sending you to boarding schools

and you coming back
and me being your elder sister.

Wouldn't have been any use, darling.

Everyone knows
we're your son and daughter.

Only because I was stupid enough
to dandle you about in front of cameras

when you were little.
I knew I should regret it.

I don't see any point
in trying to be younger than you are.

At your age, dear,
it would be indecent if you did.

But, Mother, darling, don't you see?

It's awfully undignified
to go flaunting about with young men.

I do not flaunt about. I never have.

I've been morally
an extremely nice woman all my life,

more or less.

And if dabbling gives me pleasure,
I don't see why I shouldn't dabble.

But it oughtn't
to give you pleasure any more.

You know, Sorel, you grow
more damnably feminine every day.

-I wish I'd brought you up differently.
-I am proud of being feminine.

Oh, you're a darling and I adore you,

and you're very pretty
and I'm madly jealous of you.

-Are you really? How lovely.
-You will be nice to Sandy, won't you?

-Can't he sleep in Little Hell, though?
-My dear, he's frightfully athletic.

All those hot water pipes
will sap his vitality.

-They'll sap Richard's vitality, too.
-He won't notice them.

He's probably used to
scorching tropical embassies

with punk as waving and everything.

He's sure to be deadly, anyhow.

You're getting far too blasé
and exclusive, Simon.

Nothing of the sort. I mean, I loathe
being hearty with your men friends.

You're never even civil
to any of my friends, men or women.

Don't bicker.

Anyway, the Japanese room's
a woman's room,

and a woman ought to have it.

Oh, I promised it to Sandy.
He adores anything Japanese.

So does Myra.

-Myra?
-Myra Arundel. I've asked her down.

You've what?

I've asked Myra down for the weekend.
She's awfully amusing.

Well, all I can say is
that's beastly of you.

You might have warned me.
What on earth will Richard say?

Something exquisitely noncommittal,
I expect.

This is too much.
Do you mean to tell me, Simon...

Yes, Mother, I do. I've asked Myra down.
I have a perfect right to.

You've always brought us up
to be free about such things.

Myra Arundel is straining freedom
to its utmost limits.

-Don't you like her?
-No, dear, I detest her.

She's far too old for you,

and she goes about using sex
as a sort of shrimping net.

-Really, Mother.
-It's no use being cross, Simon.

You know perfectly well I dislike her.

That's why you never told me
she was coming

until too late to stop her.
It's intolerable of you.

Whether she's here or not is a matter
of extreme indifference to me,

but I'm afraid that Richard
won't like her very much.

Oh, you're afraid
he'll like her too much.

That was an offensive remark, Simon,
and rather silly.

Why on earth don't you fall in love
with nice young girls

instead of self-conscious vampires?

She's not a vampire,
and I never said I was in love with her.

He's crazy about her.

She butters him up
and admires his sketches.

What about you,
picking up old gentlemen at dances?

-He is not old!
-You have both upset me thoroughly.

I wanted a nice, restful weekend

with moments
of Sandy's ingenuous affection

to warm the cockles of my heart
when I felt in the mood.

Now the house will be full of discord.

Not enough food,
everyone fighting for the bath.

Perfect agony. I wish I were dead.

You needn't worry about Myra and me.
We shall keep out of everyone's way.

I shall take Richard on the river
all day tomorrow.

-In what?
-The punt.

I absolutely forbid you
to go near the punt.

It's sure to rain, anyhow.

What your father will say,
I tremble to think.

He needs complete quiet
to finish off The Sinful Woman.

I see no reason
for there to be any noise

unless Sandy whatshisname
is given to shouting!

-If you are rude to Sandy...
-Now, look here, Mother...

(ALL SHOUTING)

Why are you all making such a noise?

I think I'm going mad.

-Why hasn't Clara brought me my tea?
-I don't know.

-Where is Clara?
-Do stop firing questions at me, dear.

Why are you all so irritable?
What's happened?

Here's your tea.

I'm sorry I'm late with it.
Amy forgot to put the kettle on.

-She's got terrible toothache.
-Poor girl. Give her some oil of cloves.

If anyone else mentions oil of cloves,
I shall do something desperate.

It's wonderful stuff. where's Zoe?

SIMON: She was in the garden
this morning.

I suppose nobody thought of
giving her any lunch.

I put it down by the kitchen table
as usual,

but she never came in for it.

-She's probably mousing.
-She isn't old enough yet.

She might have fallen into the river
for all any of you care.

-I think it's a shame.
-Don't you worry your head.

Zoe won't come to any harm.
She's too wily.

I don't want to be disturbed.

Listen, Simon, there's a perfectly sweet
flapper coming down by the 4:30.

Go and meet her
and be nice to her, will you?

She's an abject fool, but a useful type,

and I want to study her a little
in domestic surroundings.

She can sleep in the Japanese room.

I should like someone to play something
very beautiful to me on the piano.

Damn everything. Damn, damn, damn.

-Swearing doesn't help.
-It helps me a lot.

What does Father mean
by going on like that?

In view of the imminent reception,
you'd better go and shave, Simon.

It is perfectly beastly.

Whenever I make any sort of plan
about anything,

it is always done in by someone.

I wish I were earning
my own living somewhere,

a free agent able to do whatever I like

without being cluttered up
and frustrated by the family.

It grieves me
to hear you say that, Sorel.

Don't be infuriating, Mother.

A change has come over my children
of late.

I've tried to shut my eyes to it,
but in vain.

At my time of life,
one must face bitter facts.

This is going to be the blackest
Saturday till Monday we've ever spent.

Oh, Sorel, you mustn't cry.

-Don't sympathise, it's only temper.
-Put your head on my shoulder, dear.

Your head like the Golden Fleece.

Richard will have to have Little Hell,

and that horrible flapper,
the Japanese room.

-Over my dead body.
-Mother, what are we going to do?

We must all be
very, very kind to everybody.

-Now then, Mother, none of that.
-I don't know what you mean, Simon.

-You were being beautiful and sad.
-But I am beautiful and sad.

You're not particularly beautiful,
darling, and you never were.

Never mind.
I made thousands think I was.

As for being sad...

Now, Simon,
I will not be dictated to like this.

If I say I am sad, I am sad.

You don't understand
because you're precocious and tiresome.

There comes a time
in all women's lives...

Oh, dear.

-What did you say, Sorel?
-I said, "Oh, dear."

Well, please don't say it again
because it annoys me.

You're such a lovely hypocrite.

I don't know what I've done to be cursed
with such ungrateful children.

-It's very cruel at my time of life.
-There you go again.

-You're getting far too tall, Sorel.
-I'm sorry, Mother.

Now give me another
of those disgusting cigarettes.

I don't know where they came from.

I am going to forget entirely about
all these dreadful people arriving.

My mind, henceforward,
shall be a blank on the subject.

-It's all very fine, Mother...
-I made a great decision this morning.

-What kind of decision?
-It's a secret.

-Aren't you going to tell us?
-Of course.

I meant it was a secret
from your father.

What is it?

I'm going back to the stage.

-I knew it!
-I'm stagnating here.

I won't stagnate as long
as there's breath left in my body.

But do you think it's wise?
You retired so very finely last year.

What excuse will you give
for returning so soon?

My public, dear. Letters from my public.

-Have you had any?
-One or two.

That's what decided me, really.
I ought to have had hundreds.

We'll write you lots,
and you can publish them in the papers.

Oh, of course.

You will be dignified about it,
won't you, darling?

Oh, I'm much more dignified on the stage
than in the country.

It's my milieu.

I've tried terribly hard
to be landed gentry,

but without any real success.

I long for excitement and glamour.

Oh, think of the thrill
of a first night.

All those ardent playgoers
willing one to succeed.

The critics all leaning forward
with glowing faces,

receptive and exultant,

emitting queer
little inarticulate noises

as some witty line tickles their fancy.

The satisfied grunt of the Daily Mail.

The abandoned gurgle
of the Sunday Times.

And the shrill, enthusiastic scream
of the Daily Express.

-I can distinguish them all.
-Have you got a play?

I think I shall revive Love': W/7/r/w/nd.

-Oh, Mother.
-Father will be furious.

-I can't help that.
-It's such a fearful play.

It's a marvellous part.

You mustn't say
too much against it, Sorel.

I'm willing to laugh at it
a little myself,

but after all,
it was one of my greatest successes.

Oh, it's appalling.
But I love it. Makes me laugh.

The public love it, too,
and it doesn't make them laugh.

Much.

You're a fool. A blind, pitiable fool.

You think
because you have bought my body

that you have bought my soul.
You must say that's dramatic.

I dreamed of love like this,

but I never realised, I never knew,

how beautiful it could be in reality.

That line always brought a tear
to my eye.

The second act is the best.
There's no doubt about that.

From the moment Victor comes in,
it's strong, tremendously strong.

Oh, be Victor a moment, Sorel.

You mean when he comes in
at the end of the act?

Yes, you know, "Is this a game?"

Is this a game?

Yes, and a game that must be played
to the finish.

-Zara...
-Zara, what does this mean?

So many illusions shattered.
So many dreams trodden in the dust.

I'm George now.

I don't understand.
You and Victor? My God!

Hush! Isn't that little Pam crying?

She'll cry more, poor mite,
when she learns her mother is a...

(DOORBELL RINGS)

-Damn, there's the bell.
-I look hideous.

Yes, dear.

Oh, Clara, before you open the door,

-we shall be eight for dinner.
-My God.

And for breakfast, lunch,
tea and dinner tomorrow.

Will you get various rooms ready?

I shall have to.
They can't sleep in the passage.

Now we've upset Clara.

Can't be helped.
Nothing can be helped. It's fate.

Everything that happens is fate.

That's always been
a great comfort to me.

-More like arrant selfishness.
-You mustn't be pert, Clara.

Pert I may be,
but I do have some thought for others.

Eight for dinner? Amy going home early?

It's nothing more nor less
than an imposition.

(DOORBELL RINGS)

Hadn't you better let them all in?

Ah.

I say, it's perfectly ripping of you
to let me come down.

-Are you alone?
-Yes.

I mean, didn't you meet anyone
at the station?

I motored down. My car's outside.
would you like me to meet anybody?

Oh, no. I must introduce you.

This is my daughter, Sorel,
and my son, Simon.

-How do you do?
-Very well, thank you,

-and I hope you are, too.
-So do I.

You must forgive me
for having rather peculiar children.

-Oh, and have you got a bag or anything?
-Yes, it's in the car.

Oh, well, we'll leave it there
for the moment,

as Clara has to get the tea.
We'll find you a room afterwards.

I've been looking forward to this
most awfully.

It is nice, isn't it?

You can see as far as Marlow
on a clear day.

So they tell me.

I meant I've been looking forward
to seeing you.

Oh, how perfectly sweet of you.

-Would you like a drink?
-No, thanks.

-I'm in training.
-How lovely. What for?

-I'm boxing again in a couple of weeks.
-I must come to your first night.

-You look simply splendid.
-I'm so glad.

You know, you mustn't mind
if Simon and Sorel insult you a little.

They've been very bad-tempered lately.

It's awfully funny you having
a grown-up son and daughter at all.

I can hardly believe it.

-I was married very young.
-I don't wonder.

You know, it's frightfully queer

the way I've been
planning to know you for ages

and I never did until last week.

Oh, I liked you from the first, really,
because you're such a nice shape.

Oh, I see.

Small hips and lovely broad shoulders.

I do wish Simon had smaller hips.
Do you think you could teach him to box?

Rather, if he liked.

That's just the trouble.
I'm afraid he won't like.

He's so dreadfully
un-that sort of thing.

You must use your influence subtly.
I'm sure David will be pleased.

-Who's David?
-My husband.

Ah.

Why do you say "ah" like that?
Didn't you know I had a husband?

-I thought he was dead.
-No, he's not dead. He's upstairs.

You're quite different
from what you were the other day.

It's this garden hat. I'll take it off.

There.

I've been pruning the calceolarias.

—Oh.
-I love my garden, you know.

It's so peaceful and quaint.

I spend long days dreaming away in it.
You know how one dreams.

Oh, yes.

I always long to leave the brittle
glamour of cities and theatres

and find rest in some Old World nook.

That's why we came to Cookham.

Cookham. Awfully nice place, Cookham.

Have you ever seen me on the stage?

-Rather.
-Oh, really? What in?

That thing when you pretended
to cheat at cards

to save your husband's good name.

Oh, The Bold Deceiver.
That play was never quite right.

You were absolutely wonderful.

That was when
I first fell in love with you.

Was it really?

Yes, you were
so frightfully pathetic and brave.

-Was 1?
-Rather.

Well, go on.

I feel such a fool telling you
what I think as though it mattered.

Of course it matters.

-To me, anyway.
-Does it?

-Honestly?
-Certainly.

It seems too good to be true,
sitting here and talking

as if we were old friends.

Oh, we are old friends.
We probably met in some other life.

Reincarnation, you know. Fascinating.

—You do say ripping things.
-Do I?

Give me a cigarette.

-And let's put our feet up.
-All right.

-Can you punt?
-Yes, a bit.

Oh, you must teach Simon.
He always gets the pole stuck.

-I'd rather teach you.
-You're so gallant and chivalrous.

Much more like an American
than an Englishman.

I should like to go on
saying nice things to you forever.

Sandy.

(DOORBELL RINGS)

-There now.
-Is anyone else coming to stay?

Anyone else?
You don't know. You just don't know.

But you said it would be quite quiet,
with nobody at all.

Well, I was wrong.
It's going to be very noisy

with herds of angry people
stamping about.

Give me my hat.

(LUGGAGE CLATTERING)

-Judith, my dear, this is divine.
-Too, too lovely.

-Where are the others?
-What others?

-Did you come by the 4:30?
-Yes.

Didn't you see anyone at the station?

Yes, several people,
but I didn't know they were coming here.

Well, they are.

Sorel said it was going to be
just ourselves this weekend.

-Sorel?
-Yes.

Didn't she tell you she'd asked me?
Weren't you expecting me?

Simon muttered something
about your coming,

but Sorel didn't mention it.

-Wasn't that odd of her?
-You're a divinely mad family.

How do you do?

It's useless to wait for introductions
with the Blisses.

My name's Myra Arundel.

Sandy Tyrell, Myra Arundel.
Myra Arundel, Sandy Tyrell. There.

-Is that your car outside?
-Yes.

Well, Judith, I do think you might have
told me someone was motoring down.

A nice car would have been so much more
comfortable than that beastly train.

I never knew you were coming
until a little while ago.

It's heavenly here after London.
The heat was terrible when I left.

You look awfully well, Judith.
Rusticating obviously agrees with you.

I'm glad you think so.

Personally, I feel a nervous breakdown
is imminent.

My dear, how ghastly. What's the matter?

Oh, nothing's the matter yet, Myra.
But I have presentiments.

Come upstairs with me, Sandy,
and I shall show you your room.

I'll send Simon down to you.

He's shaving, I think,
but you won't mind that, will you?

-Myra, this is marvellous!
-No, Simon, dear, it's too hot.

You look beautifully cool.

I'm more than cool, really,
but it's not climatic coolness.

I've been mentally chilled to the marrow
byjudith's attitude.

-Why, what did she say?
-Nothing much.

She was bouncing about on the sofa
with a hearty young thing in flannels

and seemed to resent
my appearance rather.

-You mustn't take any notice of Mother.
-I'll try not to, but it's difficult.

-She adores you, really.
-I'm sure she does.

She's annoyed today
because Father and Sorel

have been asking a lot of people down
without telling her.

-Poor dear. I quite see why.
-You look enchanting.

-Thank you, Simon.
-Are you pleased to see me?

Of course. That's why I came.

-Darling...
-Shh. Don't shout.

I feel most colossally temperamental.

I should like to kiss you
and kiss you and kiss you

and break everything in the house
and jump into the river.

-Dear Simon.
-You're everything I want you to be.

Absolutely everything.

Marvellous clothes, marvellous looks,
marvellous brain.

Oh, God, it's terrible.

I dined with Charlie Templeton
last night.

Well, you're a devil.
You only did it to annoy me.

He's far too plump. He can't do anything
but dither about the embassy

in badly-cut trousers.
You loathe him, really.

You know you do.
You're too intelligent not to.

You couldn't like him and me
at the same time. It's impossible.

-Don't be so conceited.
-Darling, I adore you.

-That's right.
-But you're callous.

That's what it is, callous.

You don't care a damn.
You don't love me a bit, do you?

Love's a very big word, Simon.

It isn't, it's tiny. What are we to do?

-What do you mean?
-We can't go on like this.

I'm not going on like anything.

Yes, you are.
You're going on like Medusa,

and there are terrible snakes
popping their heads out at me

from under your hat.

I shall be turned to stone in a minute.
Then you'll be sorry.

You're very sweet
and I'm very fond of you.

Tell me what you've been doing.
Everything.

Nothing.

What did you do
after you dined with Charlie Templeton?

Supped with Charlie Templeton.

Well, I don't mind a bit.

I hope you ate a lot
and enjoyed yourself. There.

Generous boy. Come and kiss me.

You're only playing up to me now.
You don't really want to a bit.

I'm aching for it.

-I love you.
-This weekend's going to be strenuous.

Hell upon earth.
Fifteen million people in the house.

We'll get up at 7:00
and rush away down the river.

No, we won't.

Don't let either of us agree
to anything we say.

We'll both be difficult.
I love being difficult.

-You certainly do.
-But I'm in the most lovely mood now.

-Just seeing you makes me feel grand.
-Is your father here?

-Yes, he's working on a new novel.
-He writes brilliantly.

Doesn't he? Drinks too much tea, though.

-It can't do him much harm, surely.
-Tans the stomach.

Who is Sandy Tyrell?

-Never heard of him.
-He's here with Judith.

Oh, that poor thing with hot hands.
We'll ignore him.

-I thought he looked rather nice.
-You must be mad. He looked disgusting.

(CHUCKLING) Idiot.

Smooth my hair
with your soft, white hands.

-It's got glue on it.
-You smell heavenly. What is it?

-Borgia of Rosine.
-How appropriate.

You're too demonstrative today, Simon.

(DOORBELL RINGS)

Oh, damn. Damn, it's those drearies.

-Is this Mrs Bliss' house?
-Oh, yes, this is it.

15 Miss Sorel Bliss in?

I expect so. I'll see if I can find her.

-Hello. Did you have a nice journey?
-Yes, thank you. Very nice.

I met Miss Coryton at the station.
We introduced ourselves

while we were waiting
for the only taxi to come back.

Oh, I took the only taxi.
How maddening of me.

Oh, Mrs Arundel, how do you do?

-I never recognised you.
- I did.

Why, have we met anywhere?

No, I mean I recognised you
as the one who took the taxi.

-You are Sorel's brother?
-Yes. She'll be down in a minute.

-Come into the garden, Myra.
-But, Simon, we can't.

Yes, we can. I shall go mad
if we stay here a minute longer.

Tea will be here soon.

Well.

-Strange young man.
-Very rude, I think.

Have you ever met him before?

No, I don't know any of them
except Mr Bliss.

-He's a wonderful person.
-Well, I wonder if he knows you're here.

Perhaps that funny woman
who opened the door will tell him.

-Allow me.
—Oh.

It was fortunate
that we met at the station.

I'm frightfully glad. I should have been
terrified arriving here all by myself.

I hope the weather keeps good
over Sunday.

-The country round here is delightful.
-Yes.

Nowhere like England
in spring and summer.

No, there isn't, is there?

There's a sort of quality
you'll find in no other countries.

Have you travelled a lot?

-A good deal.
-How lovely.

Spain is very beautiful.

Yes, I've always heard
Spain was awfully nice.

Except for the bullfights.

No one who ever really loved horses
could enjoy a bullfight.

Nor anyone who loved bulls, either.

Exactly.

-Italy's awfully nice, isn't it?
-Oh, yes, charming.

I've always wanted to go to Italy.

-Rome is a beautiful city.
-Yes, I've heard Rome is lovely.

And Naples and Capri.

-You know, Capri is enchanting.
-It must be.

Have you ever been abroad at all?

Oh, yes, I went to Dieppe once.
We had a house there for the summer.

Oh, yes, dear little place...Dieppe.

It was lovely.

Well.

Russia used to be a wonderful country
before the war.

It must have been.

-Was that her?
-Who?

-Judith Bliss.
-Yes, I expect it was.

I wish I'd never come.

You mustn't worry. They're a very
bohemian family, I believe.

I wonder if Mr Bliss knows I'm here.

I wonder.

-Couldn't you ring a bell or anything?
-Perhaps we'd better.

I don't suppose it rings.

Oh, you mustn't be depressed.

It's always a little embarrassing coming
to a strange house for the first time.

You'll like Sorel. She's charming.

I wonder where she is.

Well, I expect tea will be here soon.

-Do you think they have tea?
-Oh, yes.

They must.

Better go on waiting, then.

Do you mind if I smoke?

-Not a bit.
-Will you?

No, thank you.

I got this case in japan.
It's pretty, isn't it?

Awfully pretty.

Richard!

I'm dreadfully sorry.
I didn't know that you were here.

-I've been here a good while.
-How awful of me.

Please forgive me. I was upstairs.

This is Miss Coryton.

—Oh?
-How do you do?

-Have you come to see my father?
-Yes.

-He's in his study. You'd better go up.
—Oh.

I don't know the way.

Well, I'll show you. Come on.
Wait a minute, Richard.

It's along the passage
and third door on the right.

Thank you.

-Poor girl looks half-witted.
-She's shy, I think.

-Hope my father will find her a comfort.
-Tell me one thing, Sorel.

Did your mother and father know
I was coming down?

Oh, yes, they were awfully pleased.

A rather nice-looking woman came down
in a large hat

and went into the garden
with a young man without saying a word.

That was Mother, I expect.
We're an independent family.

We entertain our friends
sort of separately.

Oh, I see.

It was sweet of you to come.

I wanted to come.
I've thought about you a lot.

Have you really? That's thrilling.

No, but I mean it.
You're so alive and vital

and different from other people.

I'm so frightened
that you're going to be bored here.

-Bored? Why should I be?
-Oh, I don't know.

But you won't be, will you?

Or if you are, you must tell me at once
and we'll do something quite different.

-You are rather a dear, you know.
-I'm not. I'm devastating.

Entirely lacking in restraint,
says Simon.

It's Father's
and Mother's fault, really.

You see, they're so vague.

They spent their lives
cultivating their arts

and not devoting any time to ordinary
conventions and manners and things.

I'm the only one who sees that,
and I'm trying to be better.

I'd love to be beautifully poised
and carry off difficult situations

with a lift of the eyebrows.

I'm sure you could carry off anything.

There you are, you see.
Saying the right thing.

You always say the right thing,
and no one knows a bit

what you're really thinking.

-That's what I adore.
-I'm frightened to say anything now,

in case you think
I'm only being correct.

But you are correct.

I wish you'd teach Simon
to be correct, too.

Oh, that would be uphill work,
I'm afraid.

Why? Don't you like him?

Well, I've only met him for a moment.

-Would you like to see the garden?
-Very much indeed.

As a matter of fact,
we'd better wait till after tea.

-Shall I sing you something?
-Please. I should love it.

I don't want to, really, a bit,
only I'm trying to entertain you.

It's as easy as pie
to talk in other people's houses.

Like at the dance the other night.

Here on my own ground,
I'm finding it difficult.

I'm sorry.

Oh, it's not your fault.
Honestly, it isn't.

You're awfully kind and responsive.

-What should we do?
-I'm quite happy talking to you.

-Do you play mahjong?
-No, I'm afraid I can't.

Oh, I'm so glad. I do hate it so.
Here's tea.

-Where's your mother, dear?
-In the garden, I think.

It's starting to rain.

Oh, they'll all come dashing in.
How awful.

Won't the luggage
get rather wet out there?

-What luggage?
-Oh, I'll bring it in

-when I've made the tea.
-No, no, it's all right. I'll do it now.

We should have got William up
from the village.

-Well, it's Saturday.
-I know it is.

He's playing cricket.

Do sit down and smoke.
I can easily manage.

No, no, no. Certainly not.

How typical of Myra
to have so many bags.

Oh, dear.

There now.
You've probably broken something.

Well, it's not my bag,
so it's all right.

Do you know where to wash
if you want to?

No, but I'm all right, thank you.

-Hello, Sorel. How are you?
-I'm splendid.

-Do you know Mr Greatham?
-Yes, we've met several times.

Come and sit down, Myra.

-Is tea ready?
-Yes, just.

Simon, come and be nice to Miss Coryton.

We've met already.

That's no reason for you
not to be nice to her.

-How do you do?
-How do you do?

-You staying here?
-I hope so.

Forgive me for being rather frowsy.
I've been working hard.

-Oh, Father, this is Mr Greatham.
-Oh, how are you?

-When did you arrive?
-This afternoon.

Good. Have some tea.

We'd better all put our own milk
and sugar in, or we shall get muddled.

-Where's your mother, Simon?
-She was last seen in the punt.

-How extraordinary. She can't punt.
-Sandy Tyrell's with her.

Oh, well, she'll be all right, then.

-Who's he?
-I don't know.

Do sit down, everybody.

There's going to be a thunderstorm.
I felt sick this morning.

Oh, and this is Sandy Tyrell. Everybody.

Mother, I want you to meet Mr Greatham.

Oh, yes, you were here before,
weren't you?

-Before what, darling?
-Before I went off in the punt.

There was somebody else here, too.
A fair girl.

Oh, there you are. How do you do?

Sit down, Sandy. Eat anything you want.

Simon, give Sandy some bread and butter.

-There you are.
-Thanks.

-Unfortunately, it's raining...
-How far exactly are we from Maidenhead?

-The train was awfully crowded...
-All shady places...

Romania is an interesting country.
Have you ever visited?

-Who will go out?
-I don't mind.

No, you always guess it too quickly.

-What do we have to do?
-Choose an adverb and then...

Someone goes out, you see, and comes in.

And you've all thought of a word
amongst yourselves.

And she or he or whoever it is
asks you some sort of question, and...

Not an ordinary question, Simon.

They have to ask them to do something
in the manner of the word.

-And then you act whatever it is.
-The answer to the question, you see?

What sort of thing
is one expected to do?

Quite the usual things,
like reciting [for playing the piano.

I can't play the piano.

No matter. You can fake it, as long
as it conveys an idea of the word.

The word we've all thought of?

Yes, the word we've chosen
when whoever it is is out of the room.

I'm afraid I don't quite understand yet.

Never mind, I'll explain.

I'll go out the first time
just to show her.

It's quite simple. All you have to do
is just act in the manner of the word.

-Look here, everyone. I'm going out.
-Go on, then.

The history game is awfully good,
when two people go out

and then come back as Mary
Queen of Scots or Crippen or somebody.

I'm no earthly good
at this sort of thing.

I'll show you, Sandy. You see...

There's always How, when and Where.
We haven't played that for ages.

We will afterwards.
We'll do this one first.

-Go on, Sorel.
-Don't be too long.

Now, then.

-Bitterly.
-No, we did that last week. She'll know.

-Intensely.
-Too difficult.

There was an amusing game we once played
at the Harrington's house.

-Everyone was blindfolded...
-The room's not big enough for that.

What about winsomely?

I wish I knew what we had to do.

-You'll see when we start playing.
-If we start playing.

Mother's brilliant at this.

Do you remember when we played it
at the Mackenzies”?

Oh, yes. And Blanche was so cross
because I kissed Freddy's ear

in the manner of the word.

-What was the word?
-I can't remember.

Perhaps it's as well.

-What about drearily?
-Not devilish enough.

-No, winsomely is the best.
-She's sure to guess it.

These games are much too brainy for me.

You remember young Norman Robertson?
He used to be marvellous.

Yes, wonderful sense of humour.

-He's lost it all since his marriage.
-I didn't know you knew him.

Well, considering
he married my cousin...

We don't seem to be getting on
with the game.

We haven't thought of a word yet.

-Brightly.
-Too obvious.

Very well. Don't snap at me.

Saucily. Oh, I've got
a lovely idea for saucily.

I should think rudely
would be the easiest.

Don't be sour, Myra.

The great thing
is to get an obscure word.

What a pity Irene isn't here.
She knows masses of obscure words.

She's probably picked them up
from her obscure friends.

It's no use being catty about Irene.
She's a perfect darling.

-I wasn't being catty at all.
-Yes, you were.

-SOREL: Hurry up!
-Oh, quickly now, we must think.

Appendicitis.

That's not an adverb.

-You're thinking of charades.
-Charades are damn good fun.

Yes, but we don't happen to be
doing them just at the moment.

-Sorry.
-Saucily.

-No, winsomely is better.
-Oh, all right. Call her in.

Sorel, come on, we're ready.

-Which is it, saucily or winsomely?
-Winsomely.

Take a flower out of that vase
and give it to Richard.

Very well.

(GIGGLING)

-Marvellous, Mother.
-Lovely.

Now, Myra, get up and say goodbye
to everyone in the manner of the word.

Goodbye. It really has been
most delightful.

-No, no, no.
-What do you mean?

You haven't got
the right intonation a bit.

Mother, darling, do shut up.

Remember what an advantage you have
over we poor amateurs, Judith,

having been a professional for so long.

I don't like "so long" very much.

-Do you think we might get on now?
-Go on to the next one.

-I'm not going to do any more.
-Oh, please do.

-You're simply splendid.
-Doesn't matter.

Light a cigarette
in the manner of the word.

-I've forgotten what it is.
-You remember.

Oh. Oh, yes, yes.

(CLICKING TONGUE SUGGESTIVELY)

No, no, no.

-I can't think what that's meant to be.
-I was doing my best.

It's frightfully easy,
and no one can do it right.

I believe you've muddled it up.

-You better go on to the next one.
-which word were you doing?

Whisper.

-Saucily.
-Oh, I knew it.

He was doing the wrong word.

(WHISPERING)

Oh. Oh, I see. Oh, I'm so sorry.

-Give him another chance.
-No, it's Jackie's turn now.

It'll come round to him again,
I'm afraid.

Do a dance in the manner of the word.

-I can't.
-Nonsense. Of course you can.

-I can't, honestly.
-Oh, come on. Have a shot at it.

I'd much rather not. Count me out.

Oh, really,
the ridiculous fuss everyone makes.

I'm awfully stupid
at anything like this.

-It's only a game, after all.
-Come on. Try.

I couldn't. Please don't ask me to.
I simply couldn't.

Oh, leave her alone
if she doesn't want to.

What's the use of playing at all
if people don't do it properly?

It is so simple.

It's awfully difficult
if you haven't done it before.

Go on to the next one.

Unless everyone's in it,
we won't play it at all.

-Now, don't lose your temper.
-Lose my temper? I like that.

Nobody gives me the slightest indication
of what the word is.

You all argue and squabble...

Talk, talk, talk.
Everyone talks too much.

It's so surprising to me
when people won't play up. After all...

It's a hateful game, anyhow,
and I don't want to play it again ever.

-You haven't played it at all yet.
-Don't be rude, Sorel.

Really, Simon,
the way you go on is infuriating.

It's always the same. Whenever Sorel
goes out, she gets quarrelsome.

Quarrelsome?

Don't worry, Jackie. You needn't
do anything you don't want to.

I think, for the future, we'd better
confine ourselves to social conversation

and not attempt anything
in the least intelligent.

-How can you be so unkind, Mother?
-Don't speak to me like that.

It's all my fault.
I know I'm awfully silly.

But it embarrasses me so terribly
doing anything in front of people.

I should think the word was "winsomely".

You must have been
listening at the door, then.

-Not at all. Miss Coryton gave it away.
-Why Miss Coryton all of a sudden?

You've been calling her Jackie
all evening.

-You're far too grand, Sorel.
-And you are absolutely maddening.

And I shall never play another game
with you as long as I live!

-That won't break my heart.
-Stop, stop, stop.

Come into the garden. I'm sick of this.

Don't let him take you on the river.
He isn't very good at it.

SIMON: Ha, ha. Very funny.

Sorel, you're behaving disgracefully.

Simon ought to go into the army
or something.

You both ought to be in reformatories.

This always happens
whenever we play a game.

-We are a beastly family, and I hate us.
-Speak for yourself, dear.

I can't without speaking
for everyone else, too.

We're all exactly the same,
and I am ashamed of us.

Come into the library, Sandy.

-Charming. It's all perfectly charming.
-I think it would be better, Judith,

if you were to exercise a little
more influence over the children.

Oh, that's right. Blame it all on me.

Well, after all, dear, you started it,
snapping everybody up.

You ought never to have married me,
David. It was a great mistake.

Life in this house is becoming
more unbearable every day,

and all because Simon and Sorel are
allowed to do exactly what they want.

You sit upstairs all day
writing your novels.

-Novels which earn us our daily bread.
-Daily bread? Nonsense.

We've got enough money
to keep us in comfort until we die.

That'll be quite soon
unless we get some peace.

Come out into the garden.

I sincerely hope
the night air will cool you.

I don't know what's happened
to you lately, Judith.

Nothing's happened to me.
Nothing ever does.

You're far too smug to allow it.

-Smug, thank you.
—Yes, smug, smug, smug.

And pompous.

I do hope
you haven't been drinking, dear.

Drinking? Ha! That's very amusing.

I think it's rather tragic
at your time of life.

David's been a good husband to me,
but he's wearing a bit thin now.

Would you like me to go
and leave you alone for a while?

Why? Are you afraid
I shall become violent?

No, I merely thought
perhaps I might be in the way.

Oh, I hope you're not embarrassed.
I couldn't bear you to be embarrassed.

Not in the least.

Marriage is a hideous affair altogether,
don't you think?

Well, I'm hardly qualified to judge.
You see...

Oh, do stop being noncommittal,
just for once.

It's doubly annoying
in the face of us all

-having lost control so lamentably.
-I'm sorry.

There's nothing to be sorry for, really,

because after all,
it's your particular thing, isn't it?

Observing everything
and not giving yourself away an inch.

I suppose it is.

You'll get used to us in time,
then you'll feel cosier.

Now, why don't you sit down?

I'm enjoying myself very much.

That's very sweet of you to say so,
but I don't see how you can be.

Oh, but I am!

Now, that was quite a genuine laugh.
We're getting on.

Are you in love with Sorel?

-In love with Sorel?
-Oh, now I've killed it.

I've murdered
the little tender feeling of comfort

that was stealing over you
by sheer tactlessness.

Will you teach me to be tactful?

Did you really think
that I was in love with Sorel?

Well, it's so difficult to tell,
isn't it?

I mean, you might not know yourself.

-She's very attractive.
-Oh, yes. Yes, she is, very.

-Have you heard her sing?
-No, not yet.

Oh, she sings beautifully.

Are you susceptible to music?

I'm afraid I don't know
very much about it.

You probably are, then.

-I'll sing you something.
-Please do.

It's very sad for a woman
of my temperament

to have a grown-up daughter, you know.
I have to put my pride in my pocket

and develop in her
all the charming little feminine tricks

which will eventually
cut me out altogether.

That wouldn't be possible.

Oh, I do hope you meant that,
because it was a sweet remark.

Of course I meant it.

Will you lean on the piano in
an attentive attitude? It's such a help.

-You're an extraordinary person.
-In what way extraordinary?

When I first met Sorel,
I guessed what you'd be like.

Did you now? And am I?

-Exactly.
-Oh, well.

(SINGING IN FRENCH)

Thank you.

-It's pretty, isn't it?
-Perfectly enchanting.

Shall we sit down again?

-Won't you sing some more?
-Oh, no, no more.

I want you to talk to me
and tell me all about yourself

and the things you've done.

-I've done nothing.
-What a shame. Why not?

I never realise how dead I am
until I meet people like you.

-It's depressing, you know.
-What nonsense. You're not a bit dead.

-Do you always live here?
-I'm going to from now onwards.

I intend to sink
into a very beautiful old age.

When the children marry,
I shall wear a cap.

-(CHUCKLING) How absurd.
-I don't mean a funny cap.

You're far too full of vitality
to sink into anything.

Oh, it's entirely spurious vitality.

If you troubled
to look below the surface,

you'd find
a very wistful and weary spirit.

I've been battling with life
for a long time.

Surely such successful battles
as yours have been are not weary.

Oh, yes, they are. Frightfully.

I've reached an age now
when I just want to sit back

and let things go on around me.

And they do.

You know, I should like to know
exactly what you're thinking, really.

I was thinking of calling you Richard.
It's such a nice, uncompromising name.

I should be very flattered if you would.

I won't suggest you calling me Judith

until you feel really comfortable
about me.

Oh, but I do, Judith.

I'm awfully glad.
will you give me a cigarette?

Oh, what a divine case!

Yes, it was given to me in japan
about three years ago.

All these little designs mean things.

-Oh, what sort of things?
-Oh, charms for happiness.

-Luck and love.
-which is the charm for love?

-That one.
-Oh, what a dear.

(EXCLAIMS) Richard!

-I'm afraid I couldn't help it.
-What are we to do?

-What are we to do?
-I don't know.

David must be told everything.

-Everything?
-Yes.

Yes, there come moments in life
when it is necessary to be honest.

Absolutely honest.

I train myself always
to shun the underhand methods

other women so often employ.

The truth must be faced fair and square.

The truth? I don't understand.

Oh, dear Richard,
you're trying to spare me, I know.

You're so chivalrous, but it's no use.

Because after all, as I said before,
David has been a good husband to me,

according to his lights.

This may, of course,
break him up rather.

But it can't be helped. I wonder...
Oh, I wonder how he'll take it.

They say suffering is good for writers.
It strengthens their psychology.

Oh, my poor, poor David.

Never mind. You'd better go out
into the garden and wait.

-(STAMMERING) Wait? What for?
-For me, Richard. For me.

I will come to you later.
Wait in the summer house.

I had begun to think
that romance was dead,

that I should never know it again.

Before, of course, I had my work
and my life in the theatre,

but now, nothing, nothing.

Everything is empty and hollow
like a broken shell.

Look here, Judith, I apologise...

But now you have come,
and it's all changed. It's magic.

I'm under a spell
I never thought to recapture again.

Go along.

-But, Judith, 1...
-Don't make it any harder for me.

I am quite resolved,
and it's the only possible way.

Go.

Go.

(SCREAMS)

-Look here, Mother...
-Sorel, what am Ito say to you?

-I don't know, Mother.
-Neither do I.

It was my fault, Mrs Bliss.

-Judith.
-What a fool I've been.

What a blind fool.

-Mother, are you really upset?
-I'm stunned.

-Darling...
-Don't speak for a moment, Sorel.

We must all be very quiet and think.

It was nothing, really.
For heaven's sake.

Nothing?

I open the library door casually,
and what do I see?

I ask you, what do I see?

-I'm most awfully sorry.
—Shh.

It has gone beyond
superficial apologies.

-Mother, be natural for a minute.
-I don't know what you mean, Sorel.

I am trying to realise
a very bitter truth

as calmly as I can.

There was nothing
so very bitter about it.

-Oh, my poor child.
-Very well, then.

I love Sandy, and he loves me.

That is the only possible excuse
for your behaviour.

Why shouldn't we love each other
if we want to?

Sandy was in love with me
this afternoon.

-Not real love. You know it wasn't.
-I know now.

I say, look here,
I am most awfully sorry.

There's nothing to be sorry for, really.

It's my fault
for having been so ridiculous.

-Mother!
-Yes, ridiculous.

I'm getting old, old,
and the sooner I face it, the better.

-But, darling...
-Youth will be served.

You're so pretty, Sorel,
far prettier than I ever was.

I'm very glad you're pretty.

-I feel a fearful cad.
-Oh, why should you?

You've answered
the only call that really counts,

the call of love and romance and spring.

I forgive you, Sandy, completely. There.

-Well, that's all right, then.
-I resent your tone, Sorel.

You seem to be taking things
too much for granted.

-Sorry.
-Perhaps you don't realise

that I am making a great sacrifice.

-Sorry, Mother.
-It's far from easy at my time of life.

Mother, Mother,
say you understand and forgive.

Understand?
You forget, dear, I am a woman.

I know you are, Mother, and that's
what makes it all so poignant.

If you want Sorel truly,
I give her to you unconditionally.

Thanks awfully, Mrs Bliss.

You can still call me Judith, can't you?
It's not much to ask.

-Judith.
-There, now.

Away with melancholy.

This is all tremendously exciting,
and we all must be very happy.

-Don't tell Father yet.
-We won't tell anyone.

It'll be our little secret.

-You are splendid, Mother.
-Oh, what nonsense.

I just believe in being honest
with myself.

It's awfully good for one, you know.
So cleansing.

I'm going upstairs now
to have a little aspirin.

Ah, youth, youth.

What a strange, mad muddle
you make of things.

Well, that's that.

Yes.

It's all right. Don't look so gloomy.
I know you don't love me really.

-I say, look here, Sorel...
-Don't protest. You know you don't,

-any more than I love you.
-But you told Judith...

I was only playing UP-

One always plays up to Mother
in this house.

It's a sort of unwritten law.

-But didn't she mean what she said?
-No, not really.

-We none of us ever mean anything.
-She seemed awfully upset.

Well, it must have been
a slight shock for her

to find us clasped tightly
in each other's arms.

I believe I do love you, Sorel.

A month ago I should let you
go on believing that.

But now I can't.
I'm bent on improving myself.

I don't understand.

Never mind. It doesn't matter.

You just fell victim to the atmosphere,
that's all.

There we were, alone in the library
with the windows wide open,

and probably a nightingale
somewhere about.

I only heard a cuckoo.

Well, even a cuckoo has charm
in moderation.

You kissed me
because you're awfully nice

and I'm awfully nice
and we both like kissing very much.

It was inevitable.

Then Mother found us and got dramatic.

A sense of theatre is always fatal.

She knows we shan't marry,
the same as you and I do.

You're under absolutely no obligation
to me at all.

-I wish I understood you a bit better.
-Never mind about understanding me.

-Let's go back into the library.
-All right.

So, you see, he comes back
and finds her there waiting for him.

-She hadn't been away at all?
-No.

And that's psychologically right,
I'm sure.

No woman
under those circumstances would.

It's brilliant of you to see that.

I do think the whole thing
sounds most excellent.

I got badly stuck
in the middle of the book

when the boy comes down from Oxford,
but it worked out all right eventually.

When shall I be able to read it?

I'll send you the proofs.
You can help me correct them.

How divine. I shall feel most important.

-Would you like a cigarette or anything?
-No, thank you.

I think I'll have a drink.

Very well.
Fetch me some plain soda water, then.

-There's no ice. Do you mind?
-Not a bit.

-There we are.
-Thank you.

I wonder where everyone is.

They're not here, thank God.

It must be dreadfully worrying for you,
having a house full of people.

That depends on the people.

I have a slight confession to make.

-Confession?
-Yes.

Do you know why I came down here?

Not in the least. I suppose one of us
asked you, didn't they?

Oh, yes, they asked me.

But...

Well?

I was invited once before.

-Last September.
-I was in America then.

-Exactly.
-How do you mean, exactly?

I didn't come.
I'm a very determined woman,

and I made up my mind to meet you
ages ago.

That's very charming of you.
Not much to meet, really.

You see, Yd read Broken Reeds.

-Did you like it?
-Like it?

I think it's one of the finest novels
I've ever read.

There now.

How do you manage
to know so much about women?

I am afraid my knowledge of them
is sadly superficial.

Oh, no.

You can't call
Evelyn's character superficial.

It's amazing.

Why are you being so nice to me?
Have you got a plan about something?

-How suspicious you are.
-I can't help it.

You're very attractive,

and I'm always suspicious
of attractive people on principle.

Not a very good principle.

I'll tell you something,
strictly between ourselves.

Do.

-You're wrong about me.
-Wrong? In what way?

I write very bad novels.

-Don't be so ridiculous.
-And you know it,

-because you're an intelligent person.
-I don't know anything of the sort.

Tell me why you're being so nice to me.

-Because I want to be.
-Why?

-You're a very clever and amusing man.
-Splendid.

And I think
I've rather lost my heart to you.

-Shall we elope?
-David!

There now, you've called me David.

-Do you mind?
-Not at all.

I'm not sure
you're being very kind to me.

-What makes you think that?
-You're being rather the cynical author,

laughing up his sleeve
at a gushing admirer.

I think you're a very interesting woman,

and extremely nice-looking.

-Do you?
-Yes.

Would you like me to make love to you?

Really, I wish you wouldn't
say things like that.

I've knocked you off your plate.

I'll look away for a minute
until you've climbed back on again.

This is wonderful.

That's right.

-Now then.
-Now then, what?

You're adorable, you're magnificent,
you're tawny.

-I'm not tawny.
-Don't argue.

This is sheer affectation.

-Affectation is very nice.
-No, it isn't. It's odious.

-You mustn't get cross.
-I'm not in the least cross.

Yes, you are, but you're very alluring.

-Alluring?
-Terribly.

I can hear your brain clicking.
It's very funny.

That was rather rude.

You've been consistently rude to me
for hours.

-Never mind.
-Why have you?

I'm always rude to people I like.

-Do you like me?
-Enormously.

-How sweet of you.
-But I don't like your methods.

Methods? What methods?

You're far too pleasant to occupy
yourself with the commonplace.

And you spoil yourself
by trying to be clever.

-Thank you.
-Anyhow, I don't know what you mean

by "commonplace".

-You mean you want me to explain?
-Not a bit.

-Very well, I will.
-I shan't listen.

You'll pretend not to,
but you'll hear every word, really.

You're so inscrutable and quizzical.

Just what a feminine psychologist
should be.

-Yes, aren't I?
-You frighten me dreadfully.

-Darling...
-Don't call me darling.

Now, that's unreasonable. You've been
trying to make me all evening.

-Your conceit is outrageous.
-It isn't conceit at all.

You've been firmly buttering me up
because you want a nice little intrigue.

-How dare you!
-It's true, it's true.

Otherwise you wouldn't be so angry.

-I think you're insufferable.
-Myra.

-Dear Myra...
-Don't touch me.

Let's have that nice little intrigue.

Look, the only reason
I've been so annoying

is that I love to see things
as they are first

and then pretend
they're what they're not.

Words. Masses and masses of words.

-They're great fun to play with.
-I'm glad you think so.

-Personally, they bore me stiff.
-Myra, don't be statuesque.

-Let go my hand.
-You're charming.

-Let go my hand.
-I won't.

You will!

You're perfectly sweet.

David.

You must say it is
the most entrancing amusement.

(BOTH CHUCKLING)

Forgive me for interrupting.

-Are there any chocolates in the house?
-No, David.

I should like a chocolate more than
anything in the world at the moment.

This is a very unpleasant situation,
David.

-Horrible.
-We'd better talk it all over.

-I shall do nothing of the sort.
-Please, please, don't be difficult.

-I apologise, Judith.
-Don't apologise.

-I quite understand.
-Please let go of my hand, David.

-I should like to go to bed.
-I should stay if I were you.

-It would be more dignified.
-There's no real necessity for a scene.

I don't want a scene.
I just want to straighten things out.

Very well. Go ahead.

June has always been
an unlucky month for me.

Look here, Judith,
I should like to explain...

I don't wish to hear
any explanations or excuses.

They're so cheapening.

This was bound to happen
sooner or later.

It always does to everybody.
The only thing is to keep calm.

I am, perfectly.

There is such a thing as being too calm.

Sorry, dear.

Life has dealt me another blow,
but I don't mind.

What did you say?

I said life had dealt me another blow
but I didn't mind.

-Rubbish.
-You're probably irritable, dear,

because you're in the wrong.
It's quite usual.

-Now, Judith...
-Shh. Let me speak.

-It is my right.
-I don't see why.

I am the injured party, am I not?

-Injured?
-Yes, extremely injured.

-Injured?
-Your attitude, David,

is nothing short of deplorable.

But it's all rubbish.

-Sheer, unadulterated rubbish.
-No, David.

You can't evade the real issues
as calmly as that.

I've known for a long time.
I've realised subconsciously for years

that you've stopped caring for me
in that way.

-What do you mean, that way?
-just that way.

It's rather tragic,
but quite inevitable.

I'm growing old now.
Men don't grow old like women.

As you'll find to your cost, Myra,
in a year or two.

David has retained his youth
astonishingly,

perhaps because he has had
fewer responsibilities and cares than I.

-This is all ridiculous hysteria.
-No, no, Myra, Judith is right.

-What are we to do?
-Do?

-Nothing.
-Do you love her truly, David?

-Madly.
-David.

You thought just now I was joking,
didn't you?

Couldn't you see that all my flippancy
was just a mask

hiding my real emotions,
crushing them down desperately?

-But, David...
-I knew it.

The time has come
for the dividing of the ways.

What on earth do you mean?

I mean that I am not the sort of woman
to hold a man against his will.

You're both making a mountain
out of a molehill.

David doesn't love me madly,
and I don't love him.

Shh. You do love him.

I can see it in your eyes,
in your every gesture.

David, I give you to her,
freely and without rancour.

-We must all be good friends always.
-Judith, do you mean this?

-You know I do.
-How can we ever repay you?

Just by being happy.

I may leave this house later on.

I have a feeling its associations
may become painful for me,

-especially in the autumn.
-MYRA: Look here, Judith...

October is such a mournful month
in England.

I think I shall probably go abroad.

Perhaps a pension somewhere in Italy
with cypresses in the garden.

I've always loved cypresses.
They're such sad, weary trees.

-What about the children?
-We must share them, dear.

I'll pay you exactly half the royalties
I receive for everything, Judith.

That's very generous of you.

You have been magnificent.
This is a crisis in our lives,

and thanks to you...

-Judith, I will speak...
-No, no, Myra, darling.

We owe it to Judith
to keep control of our emotions.

A scene would be agonising for her now.

She has been brave
and absolutely splendid throughout.

Let's not make things harder for her
than we can help.

-Come, we'll go out into the garden.
-I will not go out into the garden!

Please go. I don't think
I can bear any more just now.

-So this is the end.
-Yes, my dear. The end.

Mother! Mother.

I've got something important
to tell you.

—Very well, dear.
-where's Sorel?

In the library, I'm afraid.

Sorel, come out.
I've got something vital to tell you.

You seem excited, my boy.

-Has something happened?
-What's the matter?

Well, I wish you wouldn't all
look so depressed. It's good news.

Good news? I thought
perhaps Jackie had been drowned.

No, she hasn't been drowned,
she's been something else.

Simon! What do you mean?

Jackie! Jackie!

She has become engaged to me.

-Simon!
-Good heavens.

Simon, my dear.

(MOANS)

What on earth
are you crying about, Mother?

All my chicks leaving the nest.

Now I shall only have my memories left.
Jackie, come and kiss me.

You must promise to make my son happy.

-But, Mrs Bliss...
-Shh. I understand.

-I have not been a mother for nothing.
-But it's not true.

You're trying to spare my feelings,
I know.

Well, I'm not going to spare
your feelings or anyone else's.

You're the most infuriating set
of hypocrites I've ever seen.

This house is a complete feather bed
of false emotions.

You're posing, self-centred egotists,
and I'm sick to death of you.

-Myra.
-Don't speak to me.

I've been working up to this,
only every time I open my mouth,

I've been mowed down
by theatrical effect.

You haven't got one sincere
or genuine feeling among the lot of you.

You're artificial
to the point of lunacy.

It's a great pity
you ever left the stage, Judith.

It's your rightful home.

You can rant and roar there
as much as ever you like.

Rant and roar? May God forgive you.

-And let me tell you this...
-I'm not going to let you...

(ALL SHOUTING)

What's happening? Is this a game?

Yes, and a game that must be played
to the finish.

Zara, what does this mean?

So many illusions shattered.
So many dreams trodden in the dust.

Love': Whirlwind!
Dear old Love': W/7/r/w/nd.

I don't understand.
You and Victor? My God!

Hush! Isn't that little Pam crying?

She'll cry more, poor mite,
when she learns her mother is a...

-Don't say it. Don't say it!
-Spare her that.

I've given you
all that makes life worth living.

My youth, my womanhood and now my child.

Would you tear the very heart out of me?

I tell you, it's infamous
that men like you

should be allowed to pollute society.

You have ruined my life.
I have nothing left.

Nothing. God in heaven,
where am I to turn for help?

Is this true? Answer me. Is this true?

Yes, yes.

-You cur!
-Don't strike!

He is your father.

Oh, it's only you. You frightened me.

-What's the matter?
-Nothing.

-I say, don't cry.
-I'm not crying.

Yes, you were. I heard you.

It's this house. It gets on my nerves.

Yeah, I don't wonder after last night.

What were you doing in the library
just now?

-Hiding.
-Hiding?

Yes, I didn't want to run up
against any of the family.

I wish I'd never come.
I had horrible nightmares

with all those fearful dragons
crawling across the wall.

Dragons?

Yes, I'm in the Japanese room.

Everything in it's Japanese,
even the bed.

How awful.

I believe they're all mad, you know.

-The Busses?
-Yes, they must be.

I've been thinking that, too.

-Do you suppose they know they're mad?
-No, people never do.

It was Mr Bliss asked me down,

and he hasn't paid
any attention to me at all.

I went into his study
soon after I arrived yesterday

and he said, "Who the hell are you?"

-Didn't he remember?
-Well, he did afterwards.

Then he brought me down to tea
and left me.

Are you really engaged to Simon?

Oh, no, no!

Well, you were last night, you know.

-So were you, to Sorel.
-Oh, not properly. We talked it over.

I don't know what happened to me.

I was in the garden with Simon
and he was being awfully sweet.

Then he suddenly kissed me and rushed
into the house and said we were engaged.

And that hatefuljudith
asked me to make him happy.

That's exactly what happened
to Sorel and me.

Judith practically
gave us to one another

before we knew where we were.

-How frightful.
-I like Sorel, though.

She was jolly decent about it after.

-I think she's a cat.
-Why?

Look at the way she lost her temper
over that beastly game.

All the same,
she's better than the others.

That wouldn't be very difficult.

(HICCUPS)

-I beg your pardon?
-I say, I've got hiccups.

Hold your breath.

-It was because I bolted my breakfast.
-Hold it as long as you can.

One, two, three, four, five...

(HICCUPPING) I can't any more.

Eat a lump of sugar.

-I'm most awfully sorry.
-Oh, I don't mind.

-It's a horrid feeling, isn't it?
-Horrid.

People have died from hiccups, you know.

-Have they?
-Yes, an aunt of mine once had them

-for three days without stopping.
-How beastly.

She had to have the doctor
and everything.

-I expect mine will stop soon.
-I hope they will.

-Damn.
-Drink some water the wrong way round.

How do you mean, the wrong way round?

From the wrong side of the glass.
I'll show you.

-Oh, there isn't any water.
-Perhaps coffee would do as well?

Oh, I've never tried coffee,
but it might.

There you are.

What do I do?

Tip it up
and drink from the opposite side.

Sort of upside down.

I can't reach any.

Look out. Somebody's coming.
Into the library.

Bring the sugar. I might need it again.

-(HICCUPS) Oh, Lord.
-All right.

Good morning.

-Good morning.
-Are we the first down?

No, I don't think so.

-Isn't this rain miserable?
-Yes, appalling.

Where's the barometer?

On the piano.

What a queer place for it to be.

-I tapped it and it fell down.
-Typical of this house.

Four, five, six, seven, eight...

(HICCUPS)

Are you having eggs and bacon
or haddock?

-Haddock.
-I think I'll have haddock, too.

I simply couldn't strike out a line
for myself this morning.

Have you seen anyone?

-No.
-Good. We might have a little peace.

-Have you ever stayed here before?
-No, and I never will again.

I feel far from well this morning.

I'm so sorry,
but not entirely surprised.

-You see, I had the boiler room.
-How terrible.

Yes, the window stuck
and I couldn't get it open.

I was nearly suffocated.

And the pipes made peculiar noises
all night as well.

-There isn't any sugar.
—Oh?

Better ring for some.

I doubt if it will be the slightest use,
but we'll try.

Do the whole family
have breakfast in bed?

I neither know nor care.

They're strange people, aren't they?

I think "strange" is putting it mildly.

-What's the matter?
-There isn't any sugar.

-Oh, there is. I put it here me self.
-Perhaps you'd find it for us, then.

Oh, that's very funny.

I could have sworn on me Bible oath
I brought it in.

-Well, it obviously isn't here now.
-Someone's taken it, that's what it is.

Seems a queer thing to do.

Do you think you could get us some more?

Oh, yes, I'll fetch you some.

But mark my words,
there's been some hanky-panky somewhere.

Clara is really more at home
in a dressing room than a house.

-Was she judith's dresser?
-Of course.

What other excuse
could there possibly be for her?

She seems good-natured, but quaint.

This haddock's disgusting.

It isn't very nice, is it?

-There you are, dear.
-Thank you.

It's a shame the weather's changed.

You could have had such fun
up the river.

(JACKIE SCREAMS)

What's that?

What's going on? Come out of there.

Good morning.
I'm afraid we've broken a coffee cup.

-Was there any coffee in it?
-Yes, a good deal.

Oh, dear, all over the carpet.

It was my fault.
I'm most awfully sorry. I...

-How'd you come to do it?
-Well, you see, he had the hiccups,

and I was showing him
how to drink upside down.

How ridiculous.

Thank heavens
it wasn't one of the Crown Derbys.

-They've gone now, anyhow.
-It was the sudden shock, I expect.

-I say, it's raining.
-It's been raining for hours.

-Mrs Arundel.
-Yes?

What are you going to do about...
About today?

Nothing, except go up to London
by the first train possible.

Do you mind if I come with you?

I don't think I could face
another day like yesterday.

-Neither could 1.
-Let's all go away quietly.

Won't it seem a little rude
if we all go?

Yes, it will.
You, Miss Coryton, must stay.

-I don't see why.
-I don't think they'd mind very much.

Yes, they would.

You must let Mr Greatham and me
get away first, anyhow.

Ring for Clara.
I want to find out about trains.

Well, I do hope
they don't all come down now.

You needn't worry about that.

They're sure to roll about in bed
for hours.

-They're such a slovenly family.
-Got much packing to do?

No, I did most of it before I came down.

What is it now?

Could you tell me
what trains there are up to London?

-When?
-This morning.

Why? You're not leaving, are you?

Yes, Mr Greatham and I
have to be out by lunch time.

Well, you have missed the 10:15.

-Obviously.
-There isn't another till 12:30.

-Good heavens.
-And that's a slow one.

Look here, you can come up in my car
as soon as you like.

All right. Lovely.

Oh, you have got a car, haven't you?

-Yes.
-will it hold all of us?

You said it'd be rude for us all to go.

Hadn't you and Mr Greatham
better wait for the train?

-Certainly not.
-If there is room,

we should be very, very grateful.

-I think I could squeeze you in.
-That's settled, then.

-When shall we start?
-As soon as you're ready.

Mrs Arundel, what are you going to do
about tipping Clara?

I don't know. What do you think?

Well, I've hardly seen her
since I've been here.

-Isn't there a housemaid or anything?
-No, I don't think so.

-Is 10 bob enough?
-Each?

Too much.

We'd better give her £1.10 between us.

Very well. You do it,
and we'll settle up in the car.

-Oh, must I?
-Yes, ring for her.

-You'd do it much better.
-Oh, no, I shouldn't.

Come on,
we'll go and finish our packing.

-All right.
-Oh, here, I say, don't leave me.

I'll go and have a look at the car.

-Will you all be ready in 10 minutes?
-Yes, 10 minutes.

Right-o.

Hello. where's everybody gone?

They've gone to get ready.
We're leaving in Mr Tyrell's car.

Bit sudden, isn't it?

This is from all of us, Clara.

Thank you very much
for all your trouble.

Oh, there now, aren't you a dear?
It wasn't any trouble.

-It must have been a lot of extra work.
-Oh, one gets used to that here.

-Good morning, Clara.
-Good morning.

-I hope you've been comfortable.
-Comfortable?

Oh, yes.

# Picture you upon my knee

# just tea for two and two for tea #

(PIANO KEYS CLANGING)

Good morning, Clara.
Have the papers come?

Yes. I'll fetch them.

Thank you.
You've forgotten my orange juice.

No, I haven't, dear. It's just outside.

Morning, darling.

Listen to this.

"We sawjudith Bliss in a box
at the Haymarket on Tuesday,

"looking as lovely as ever."

There now,
I thought I looked hideous on Tuesday.

You looked sweet.

There you are, dear.

Did you see that nice bit
in the Referee?

No, no, the Times.

Oh, the Referee': much better.

"I saw the gay and colourful
Judith Bliss

"at the waifs and strays matinee
last week.

"She was talking vivaciously
to producer Basil Dean.

"'So,' said Ito myself,
'where ignorance is Bliss,

""tis folly to be wise."'

Oh, dear Referee.
It's so unselfconscious.

If you want more coffee, ring for it.

I wish I was sitting
on a lovely South Sea island

with masses of palm trees
and coconuts and turtles.

It would be divine, wouldn't it?

-I wonder where everyone is.
-I wonder.

Mary Saunders has got another failure.

She must be used to it by now.

Good morning, darling.

Look.

Oh, Simon, how lovely.
when did you do it?

-This morning. I woke early.
-Let's see.

I'm going to alter Helen's face.
It's too pink.

It's exactly like her.

-What a clever son I have.
-Now then, Mother.

It's too wonderful.

When I think of you both
in your perambulators...

Oh, dear. Makes me cry.

I don't believe you ever saw us
in our perambulators.

I don't believe I did.

-It's finished!
-JUDITH: What, dear?

-7'/7e Sinful Woman.
-How splendid.

-Read it to us now.
-I've got the last chapter here.

JUDITH: Go on, then.

Good morning.

I seem to know that boy's face.

Listen, do you remember the bit
where Violet falls ill in Paris?

-Yes, dear.
-I'll go on from there.

Do, dear. Marmalade, Simon.

"Paris in spring,
with the Champs élysées alive

"and dancing in the sunlight.

"Lightly dressed children
like gay painted butterflies."

What's happened to the barometer?

-I don't know.
-Oh, damn the barometer.

-JUDITH: Don't get cross, dear.
-Why can't you keep quiet, Simon?

-Or go away. Don't interrupt again.
-Sorry, Father.

"...gay painted butterflies.

"The streets were thronged
with hurrying vehicles.

"The thin 'pic-pic' of taxi hooters..."

I love "pic-pic".

"...seemed to mingle in
with the other vivid noises

"to weave a vast pattern of sound
which was Paris."

What was Paris, dear?

-"Which was Paris."
-What was Paris?

You can't say, "A vast pattern of sound
what was Paris."

Yes, but what was Paris?

"Weaving a vast pattern of sound
which was Paris."

Oh, I see.

"Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano,

"swept out of the rue Saint-Honoré
into the Place de la Concorde."

-She couldn't have.
-Why not?

The rue Saint-Honoré doesn't lead
into the Place de la Concorde.

Yes, it does.

You're thinking
of the rue Boissy d'Anglais.

-I'm not thinking anything of the sort.
-David, darling, don't be obstinate.

Do you think I don't know Paris
as well as you do?

Never mind, Father's probably right.

-He isn't right. He's wrong.
-60 on with your food, Sorel.

Oh, don't be testy, David.
It's a sign of age.

"Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano,

"swept out of the rue Saint-Honoré
into the Place de la Concorde."

That sounds absolutely ridiculous.
Why don't you alter it?

It isn't ridiculous.
It's perfectly right.

Very well, then,
get a map and I'll show you.

-We haven't got a map.
-Now, listen, Judith.

Here is the rue Royale,
here is the Crillon Hotel,

and here is the rue Saint-Honoré.

It isn't. That's the Boissy d'Anglais.

That runs parallel
with the rue de Rivoli.

-You've got it all muddled.
-I have not got it all muddled!

-Don't shout. You have.
-Why not let Father get on with it?

Well, it's so silly
to get cross at criticism.

-It indicates a small mind.
-Small mind, my foot.

That was very rude.

-I shall go to my room in a minute.
-I wish you would.

-David!
-Look here, Father, Mother's right.

-Here's the Place de la Concorde...
-Oh, shut up, Sorel.

Shut up yourself,
you pompous little beast.

You think you know such a lot
about everything,

and you're as ignorant as a frog.

Why a frog?

I give you my solemn promise, David,
that you're wrong.

I don't want your solemn promise
because I know I'm right.

It's no use arguing with Father, Mother.

Why isn't it any use
arguing with Father?

Because you're both so pigheaded.

Are you content to sit there, Judith,
and let your son insult me?

-He's your son as well as mine.
-I begin to doubt it.

-David!
-Father, how can you?

I shall never attempt to read to any
of you anything again as long as I live.

You're not a bit interested in my work.

You don't give a damn
whether I'm a success or a failure.

You're dead certain to be a failure if
you cram your books with inaccuracies.

-I am not inaccurate!
-JUDITH: Yes, you are.

And you're foul-tempered and spoilt.

Spoilt? I like that.
Nobody in this household spoils me.

You are an impossible family
to live with.

Then why in heaven's name
don't you go and live somewhere else?

-There's gratitude.
-Gratitude for what I'd like to know.

—Oh?
-Mother, keep calm.

Calm? I'm furious!

I don't know
what you've got to be furious about,

everybody rushing around adoring you,
saying how wonderful you are.

I am wonderful, heaven knows,
to have stood you for all these years.

SOREL: Mother, do sit down and be quiet.

How dare you speak
to your mother like that!

Oh, to think that my daughter
should turn against me.

-Don't be theatrical.
-I am not theatrical.

-I'm wounded to the heart.
-Rubbish, rubbish, rubbish.

Don't you say "rubbish" to me.

-I will say rubbish...
-It's just dreadful!

(ALL SHOUTING)

(CAR ENGINE STARTING)

There now.

They've gone.

How very rude.

People really do behave in the most
extraordinary fashion these days.

Come back
and finish your breakfast, Sorel.

All right.

Do go on, David, darling.
I'm dying to hear the end.

"Jane Sefton, in her scarlet Hispano,

"swept out of the rue Saint-Honoré
into the Place de la Concorde..."