The Serpent's Kiss (1997) - full transcript

[music playing]

I am standing on the
shore of a green sea.

There's a buzzing in my head.

I can't focus, I'm
wearing a white dress.

I feel I want to dive in
and swim until I drown.

Then suddenly there are
men wading towards me.

Their bodies are shiny and wet.

There are flashes of
brightness deep in the water,

like darting fish.

Then suddenly I see
they're reapers.

I stare at them as
they get closer.



I want to get away, but I can't.

Suddenly I notice the bird.

It sits still as
stone on it's eggs.

The reapers are getting
closer, their bright blades

slicing along.

I can do nothing.

Was it a dream?

Sounds like a bad dream to me.

Which white dress?

Besides, you can't swim.

I suppose you
could drown though.

Anybody can do that,
even on dry land.

I thought perhaps the reaper was
going to do something to you.

Sometimes I'm the bird.



You read too much, Anne.

You must rest your mind.

It get overheated.

I'm not Anne.

I'm Thea.

Particularly Andrew
Marvell's poetry.

You see connections
that just aren't there.

And you turn his words
into predictions as

if he wrote them just for you.

Who are you dressing for?

Myself, of course.

No one interesting
ever visits us.

Mr. Smithers, as we've
discussed at some length,

has two Achilles heels,
his vanity and his wife.

His vanity will
look after itself.

His wife you will somehow have
to interest in horticulture.

I wish you heartfelt luck
in our little venture

and remain, yours et
cetera, et cetera.

In busy companies of, men whose
sacred plants if here below,

only among the plants will grow.

Society, it's orbit wooed
to this delicious solitude.

Meneer Chrome,
at your service.

You're not English.

No, I'm Dutch actually.

Dutch, oh, from Holland.

Yes.

What are you doing here.

I am gardens designer also.

I've come to see
Mr. Thomas Smithers.

You'll find my
father through their.

Yes we are making some
little improvements,

Meneer Chrome, all in the
latest fashion of course.

The influence of your
Prince of Orange, sir.

Oh, you're a king, sir.

Well, we're all Orangemen now.

Can't blame an
orange for all that.

It's only a fruit.

It's like blaming the
apple for the fall of man.

Perhaps not,
Galmoy, perhaps not.

I wonder sometimes if I ever
get used to the unevenness

of this country.

We inherited Galmoy with
the house, I'm afraid.

He's usually found in the walled
garden, indeed the only garden.

Your site, Meneer Chrome, your
domain, is quite untouched.

Chaos awaits you.

Chaos indeed.

It alarms me sometimes
in the twilight,

it's such a wasteland.

The pillars are old.

Obviously a garden
was planned here.

Planned and abandoned, wisely.

Well, Meneer Chrome, can
you create order for us?

Why?

What's grown here
ought to be grown here.

Cut it down and you'll let in
more than you bargained for.

Do you want to make a garden?

Forgive me, but you seem a
little on the young side.

Generally, Mr. Smithers,
Monsieur Larousse and myself

undertake less
modest commissions.

Modest?

There's nothing modest about
my ambitions, young man.

And have no fear for
the funds either.

I don't expect anything cheap.

The one thing I'm prepared
to pay for, Meneer Chrome,

is expertise.

I select the experts
in whatever field

and then I place my
business in their hands.

I see it as the best possible
benefit of acquiring money.

Ah, Julia, let me present,
Meneer Chrome, my dear,

of Larousse and
Chrome, internationally

acclaimed garden architects.

Purveyors of paradise.

I've been trying
to persuade Meneer

Chrome to make your garden.

I am persuaded.

Ah, how very
flattering, Meneer

Chrome, But I assure you, it's
my husband's garden, not mine.

It's my present
to you, my dear.

You must approve the designs.

Dear Thomas, you
know I have absolutely

no interest in horticulture.

But I love toys, diversions,
tricks with water fountains

that play tunes.

I've heard of one that
can play Lillibullero.

Can you do that, Meneer Chrome?
- Lillibullero?

Yes.

[singing]

Garden design has
made some progress

since the Italian Renaissance
and their water games.

What a shame.

Well, if am to
approve the designs,

we shall just have to see
what you come up with.

Ah, our daughter, Anne.

Thea.

We've changed our name.

What, again?

Thea, Flora, Vitannia, whatever.

I thought she was
with Mrs. Galmoy.

It's bad luck isn't
it, if you cut a bird?

Anne, come inside,
this instant!

I had no idea that
the design of gardens

had become such a
fashionable calling.

King William himself
thinks of little else.

And is Monsieur Larousse
as young as you?

I thought when my
husband took me

from London to Bristol, that
it was the end of the world.

But this is beyond everything.

This country solitude.

You'll find, Meneer
Chrome, that our daughter

is a little disturbed.

It's better that
you're forewarned.

Sometimes it's
worse than others,

but you can never quite be sure.

Too much imagination.

Do you like acting?

Acting?

Performance.

The theater.

I miss it terribly.

No.

My work satisfies all
my needs for the arts.

I am set designer for
every human drama, painter,

with every conceivable hue on my
palate, orchestrator of sounds,

the water in the fountains,
the effect of different foliage

on the breeze.

Tell me, are we to
expect Monsieur Larousse

or do you do for both?

Thomas.

Well, I'm paying for both, dear.

I'm very much afraid to that
Jean Baptiste Larousse is dead.

Dead?

JULIANA: Dead?

He sailed on a voyage to
bring back exotic plants.

There's no news of
his ship or of him.

The most terrible conclusion
is forced upon us.

We must assume that the
oceans have swallowed him up.

How dreadful.

Good lord.

Monsieur Larousse was a
father to me, my mentor,

my tutor, a great genius.

He worked with Le
Notre at Versailles

and on the new layout
at Hampton Court.

He taught me the principles
of [inaudible] pot

and the regularity
of answering form,

the radiating gravel
walks, and the point

from which, and
only from which, all

the pattern makes sense, the.

House itself and for
this purpose only so

that the garden reflects
glory and prestige

and power upon its owner

and power upon its owner

Takes himself too
seriously, that one.

Proud as a windbag.

Too many oranges.

Too little appetite
all together.

Do you know what he's called?

Manure.

That's what they
call him, manure.

[laughing]

This is Meneer Chrome,
our daughter, Anne--

Thea.

Your servant.

Your mistress.

I am so very sorry to be late.

I know you have so little time.

Little time?

You are always
in such a hurry.

I have all the time in
the world, I promise you.

My vegetable love, oh, but
you're a marvel, a marvel.

We have a poet, Meneer
Chrome, Andrew Marvel.

Meneer Chrome doesn't
know him, Anne.

He's dead.

He was poisoned.

They poisoned him.

You should take her.

That damn book!

Aren't you afraid?

Aren't you afraid it
will happen to you?

People, Meneer Chrome,
real people, ideas, objects,

all things animate and
inanimate, the entire world,

is sipped through the
wire mesh of these words,

crushed into the
shape of the poem,

pressed between the
paper and the book

until the juice runs
out and there's nothing

but the dried leaves.

Now, tell me how, how do I
have a relationship with that?

Good god, girl, what now?

It's so undignified,
lying on your back

with your legs spread out.

Mrs. Galmoy, send to
[inaudible] for the physician,

please.

Thomas.

First thing in the morning.

Thomas, dear, the
physician really necessary?

We must trust
in his expertise.

There was a time when you
did not rely on other people

so much.

You've come to depend
on experts too much.

You delegate.

You live by proxy in all things.

Great God, she could
cut her hand off.

I'll not tolerate behavior
like that anymore.

She's not a child.

She must be made to
behave like a young lady.

I must go to her.

Sit down, Madam.

Mrs. Galmoy will see to her.

This garden, Chrome, it
must be ready by the turn

of the century.

I can achieve the
layout and perhaps

with extensive use of
pots, and if you could

supply labor from the estate.

I have no son but I
intend to leave something

behind with my name on it.

You have my wife as
your inspiration.

It should be enough for any man.

What my husband means
is that I'm barren.

I have been barren
since the birth of Anne.

Madam, I hardly
know what to say.

Say nothing, Meneer Chrome.

Say nothing.

Nature will not
tolerate a vacuum.

Create emptiness and nature will
do her utmost to fill it again.

So we drive the air
out of the glass jar,

burning it away with
the flame, and then

we apply it to the
surface of the body

and draw out the
evil humors thus.

[crying out]

Further instructions for you.

Shall I read them to you?

They're rather to the point.

Get on with it.

My dear Meneer.

You are too fastidious.

If the lady likes
Italy, give her Italy.

And, dear sir, you've
told me of your fondness

for amateur dramatics.

But do please keep your
performance within the bounds

of credibility.

I am yours, Excellence.

Your master
forced me into this.

His motives are his alone,
but the designs of this garden

are mine.

And so is the performance.

Ah!

Get out and spy
on someone else.

[WHISPERING] My
dear, it's all over.

Now you must rest.

You lie still.

They say when the reapers
cut the wold, they turn blue.

They're stained by the dye.

Can I turn blue all over?

Your day, Meneer Chrome.

My life in your hands.

Our guests are too eager.

Fitz!

It's you!

Dearest cous.

This is wonderful.

We hadn't expected
you for weeks.

It was a sudden decision.

There was no time to write.

Well.

If Thomas had warning, he
may have banned me from coming.

Oh, but it's a perfect timing.

Today's the unveiling
of the garden plan.

I wouldn't have missed
that for all the world.

Oh, and this is
Meneer Chrome himself.

My cousin, James Fitzmorris.

Oh but of course, you
know each other already.

He came here by your suggestion.

We have met in the flesh
but once or is it twice.

But I'm of course familiar with
Meneer Chrome's reputation.

You are too generous, sir.

WOMAN: Oh, yes.

I believe I must have
heard of them, Monsieur

Larousse and Meneer Chrome.

But I'm told they worked
for the Earl of Portland

and designed gardens for
King William himself.

So clever of you to get them.

There is nothing, absolutely
nothing more wonderful

that you could possibly be
doing in the entire world

than making a garden.

Even my garden--

Tell me, Madame
Clevely, how is

the glass business in Chelton.

Oh, it occupies one.

My rooms are full,
which is a mercy

after my dear husband's death.

I shall be looking to
you, sir, for my dye.

The woad grown here is quite,
quite the strongest of blues.

I confess, Madam,
I was scarcely aware

that my estate
produced vegetable dye.

Juliana, your garden, Madam?

Meneer Chrome, please.

We face north.

So good for the
paintings and the furniture

and the complexion, don't
you think, Meneer Chrome?

They're not ruined
by direct sunlight.

Don't interrupt

I was thinking
of the advantage

of having the light behind us.

Since the principal viewpoint
of the garden design

must correspond precisely to
the center of the main reception

room inside the house, which
is of course where the garden

is to be appreciated.

There will be a central
walk of raked gravel

with steps rising to the gates.

Beneath us here two symmetrical
rectangles with pyramidal

use at each center.

And beyond that, the
parterre broderie itself,

with tall trellised towers
and different colored

gravels, coal, lime,
onyx, and with brick red.

[sound of sharpening wheel]

Four classical statues here will
ring a spiral, clipped laurel.

And I propose to use an
edge of yellow marble.

Here lemons, oranges,
and dwarf bays

will line the path as it
rises to the final apron

before the iron gates.

And the whole will be enclosed
in a wall with Flemish curves

and permanent
statues at intervals

to guard the garden from
the surrounding farm.

You look a little pale,
Thomas, are you making

a computation of the bill?

Any flowers?

This is an Ango-Dutch garden,
Madame, with French influence

we have progressed from flowers.

A garden is a celebration
of art, triumph over nature.

We shall be the
fucking flowers.

We shall provide the
color and the scent

as we walk among
the gravel paths.

Now to the west, I propose
a grotto here and a maze here.

A House of Didalis, a
place to be lost in.

Well, Madame?

Well, you have been
busy, Meneer Chrome.

I find it all a little serious.

Madam, the broderie
of the parterre

is a precise copy of the
brocade you were wearing

when I first set eyes on you.

What a memory you do
have, Meneer Chrome.

Couldn't help noticing,
Chrome, this area here.

Yes.

It's blank.

I mean it's blank.

Something you're going
to surprise us with?

Have a few ideas I
would like to explore.

I shall of course discuss them
with you, sir, in due course.

The Hanging
Gardens of Babylon?

Well Thomas, this is all
most exciting Juliana

is a very lucky girl.

And I particularly admire
the broderie touch.

Although in the event
I wondered if it might

not prove a little overdone.

And this, Meneer Chrome?

This is the
signature of a Larousse

and Chrome garden
the serpent's kiss.

The serpent's kiss?

The Ouroboros of legend,
the serpent with its tail

in its mouth.

Meneer Chrome, is it you?

You seem so different.

You've torn yourself
on the brambles.

Your blood looks like
deadly nightshade berries.

They ripen and burst
their poison down you.

Grows here near the gates
and hemlock, all the poisons.

Sometimes I find
things for Galmoy

I'm afraid he kills
insects with them.

Belladonna turns you
blue from inside out.

Unpleasant ending.

Come here.

This will give you Protestant
wind up your parterre,

Manure Chrome.

Remove all unwanted
garden pests.

Add this will concentrate
of belladonna,

and even the white
fly will turn blue.

This is my spring.

I've always been interested
in plants and wild things.

See that crop growing there?

Woad, the warpaint of
the ancient Britains.

They only use it
to dye cloth now.

Isatis tinctoria, turns
you blue from the outside in.

Have you ever
been to the ocean?

I haven't.

Once my father took me
to see the Seven Bore.

I was very young.

It's a wave of the sea
that reaches deep in

to touch the belly of England.

And the big spring tides,
[inaudible] tiny [inaudible]

swim like sperm.

I'd love to see the ocean.

All his life my father
made land from the sea

and farmed it.

then there was the great storm.

Banks burst and the sea
flooded in and drowned him,

left my family ruined.

Nature is my enemy,
must be controlled.

Controlled?

I was hoping to see you
today when I showed my plans.

That's my parents' garden.

This is my place.

I don't really mean my own.

It doesn't belong to me.

I just come here.

No one else does.

They don't see it the way I do.

There was a snake here
before you came, in the roots

of the crab apple tree.

And a bird.

The sun shone through its wings.

You frightened them away.

Why were you so angry?

Were you in pain?

You've missed a bit.

Don't you see what this
will mean, the garden?

Mean?

To all this.

It won't touch me here.

It means that tomorrow
all this will be cut down.

Ah, Chrome, you've
been surveying the site.

This is Forge Master Pritchard.

He looks after my
foundry in Bristol.

Sir.

He's called here on business,
or rather the lack of it.

It seems our ware are in
poor demand at the moment.

So I've been trying
to persuade him

that our foundries
should undertake some

of your proposed metal works.

I don't know what
your father would've

thought about all this,
grottoes and gates and railings

and such.

Will you have the secretary
make some copies of these?

Pritchard go and see Mrs.
Galmoy in the kitchens.

Very good, sir.

And have her fetch you up
some Perrier from the cellar.

So you see, Chrome, how your
ideas have us all buzzing?

Will there be any cleaner
work than making a garden?

Sir, I have misgivings.

Misgivings?

Yes, sir, it
concerns your daughter.

- My daughter?
- Thea.

Anne.

Anne is no concern
of yours, sir.

No, sir.

But she seems so
at home out there.

Have you ever
spoken to her there?

What are you suggesting?

What would the consequences
be to her if we cut it all down

and do away with it?

She seems at peace there.

Do you think all this has
not been considered already?

We are informed by
those who are experts

on the mind that the exact
opposite is the case.

The fever is nourished
by that chaotic place.

It breeds distortion.

An ordered, planned, patterned
garden, governed by reason,

with the reassuring works of
man in evidence all around,

a garden such as
you have designed,

will reflect the same onto
her mind and restore her calm.

You will kindly supervise the
execution of your plan, sir.

There is a deadline.

Yes, sir.

But there is one thing I
do beg you to consider.

What?

Perhaps it would be
better if she was not here

when it happens.

Could she stay away with
friends or relations

or perhaps you could take
her to visit to the sea?

The sea?

Assure yourself, Meneer Chrome.

I have placed Anne in
the best possible hands.

Well, Chrome, shall we
make the desert bloom?

First, we must
make the desert.

How was it that
you found him, Fitz?

Lady luck.

I met him on two quite
separate occasions.

The first time was
in the Netherlands.

He was working with
Larousse on King

William's garden at Het Loo.

The second was in [inaudible].

I happened to be staying
with the Provins at Wield.

And Meneer Chrome
was undertaking

the layout for them.

He interests you?

Not especially.

I shall leave for the
foundry immediately, my dear.

We shall manage.

The burning bush, Pritchard.

The coal ship's late.

We'll run out of iron.

Then we'll melt
down the cannons.

What's this?

That is hortus siccus,
a collection of plants

dried and arranged in a book,
thus by defeating the seasons,

they are preserved for study.

Not for pleasures, then?

Drain nature of all its juices.

Believe me, I do not
find that so desirable.

Madam, you must excuse me.

Oh, Fitz, what are you doing?

I was trying to imagine
how all this will turn out.

Oh, that.

How kind of you to take such
an interest in Thomas's garden.

The setting for a jewel.

You were right to choose him.

I could never have afforded
to give you all this.

Fitz.

Do you remember?

Cousins can do things
that other people can't.

And we were more than
children before anyone

knew what we were up to.

Even we didn't know.

What, us?

Not us, we knew.

I don't remember.

- Of course you remember.
- I was so young.

It was just games.

You're good at playing.

You and I never took
anything too seriously

until it was too late.

Do you remember this?

You gave it to me as a pledge.

Before they sent me away.

You told me to make my fortune
and that when I came back,

we would be together forever.

You don't remember?

You didn't make your fortune.

No, no, still penniless.

Still singing for my supper.

But only at the
best tables in Europe.

When I came back,
you were married.

You had a family.

Is that really me?

Looks just like Anne.

And you've had it
all these years?

I have.

I've thought of a
very good game for us.

So long as it's not skittles.

No, not skittles.

Meneer Chrome.

If you could hold
him, I [inaudible]..

[laughing]

Brought you something.

And I've looked you up.

Looked me up?

Yes.

What is it?

It is a wilderness.

Look.

I was wondering
what it should be.

And as a matter of
fact, wildernesses

are becoming very fashionable.

You see the serpentine path
here, the forms on either side

are symmetrical.

And the tree planting
will be grouped

to balance each other, exactly.

Do you really
think you can make

up what you've done with that?

It's far too well
behaved for me.

I've looked you up, Dutchman.

I've looked you up.

Holland.

That scarce deserve
the name of land,

as [inaudible] the scouring
of the British sand,

this indigested vomit of
the sea, belts of sea--

Take her into the house.

Get rid of that cursed book.

You deserted
me, Meneer Chrome.

I had something to attend to.

Well, you have an
opportunity to make

amends and provide my cousin and
I with some edifying diversion.

I really should--

Just a moment of your time,
a test of your knowledge.

Will you comply with the rules?

Well, what is the test?

Scent.

Scent?

Flowers, herbs,
that sort of thing.

Scent in a garden.

Scent is hard to
manage in a garden.

It's too unreliable.

Cannot count on it.

Go on.

Be where you planned it to be.

It relies not only to
the state of the plants,

but to the eddies in
the air, to warmth,

to twilight, to the moon.

I shall not therefore
incorporate scent

in the main design,
always excluding

the presence of box of course.

The scent of clipped
box in the summer

months, that is a sine qua non.

But in the maze, in the
maze, I shall use scent.

It is both precise and elusive,
it is personal but confusing.

Its colors never merge to gray.

It will add to the impression
of being entirely lost.

Some scents predominate
over others.

[clapping]

And the knot, serpent's kiss?

That depends on
the serpent's breath.

First, you must
be blindfolded.

Blindfolded?

If you want to win a prize.

What prize?

Kiss.

A kiss.

Rosa oficianalis pink.

Lavandula docias is
an lavender pink.

Helichrysum splendid
tomatis, yellow and gray.

Lilium regale.

It is pinkish white.

Hm

Hm, nepeta connata.

No wait.

Nepeta mussinii.

It is purple.

Very good.

Now one more.

If you get this right,
you'll win the prize.

You seem a little confused.

Perhaps he's taking
too much snuff.

I am confused because it
is not your usual scent.

The scent you wore yesterday
was lily of the valley.

This is attar of roses.

Yesterday you wore white.

Today you wore red.

But the handkerchief
itself, is yours.

Clever boy.

Take the scents
away, Mrs. Galmoy,

there's dead insects all over.

I claim my prize.

Plant tobacco, Latin
name, Nicotiana tobacco,

a yellow taste perhaps?

We never said whose
lips, Meneer Chrome.

Have you nothing better to
do with your time, Chrome.

I have lost a coal ship,
gone down in the channel

with men drowned.

And I come back to parlor games.

Oh, my dear sir, forgive me.

It was only in fun.

You never told
me about the girl.

- What girl?
- The daughter.

Why on Earth should I
have told you about her?

What's she got to do with you?

She lives in a world of her own.

Not anymore.

I told you
everything you needed

didn't have to perform
the task that I've

engaged you to perform.

You're to make him a garden
which he cannot afford.

Turn the screw.

Make him sweat.

Yes, introduce a little heat.

I think it's time we heard from
Monsieur Larousse, don't you?

You write it.

You write it.

Time I think, for Anne
to see the progress.

Whatever you say.

I have to go to
Bristol, Thomas.

Oh, dear.

I shall be back as soon as
possible, if you don't mind.

Mind?
No.

I've become quite
enthralled by your enterprise.

Could you lend me a carriage?

My dear James, have
you nothing of your own?

Taste, my dear Thomas, taste.

The girl's out there.

It's too soon.

Thea.

Well, it's Mr. Chrome.

What is the matter?

Give it to me.

Now make the damn garden.

As for the living birds, he
shall take it and the cedar

wood and the scarlet and the
hyssop, and shall dip them in,

and the living bird in
the blood of the bird

that was killed over
the running water.

The body is a machine, in
the brain its mainspring.

If it is wound too tightly,
the spring will break.

To restore peace
of mind, we must

deprive the nerves of stimuli.

The Greeks were the first
to be aware that the value

of darkness on these occasions.

[crashing and breaking of glass]

The calm of rationality,
the reassuring works of man,

the print of art.

The mind can find peace
here in symmetry and repose.

As for the grotto, although
it depicts nature rampant,

nature fecund, nature excited,
because it is art imitating

nature and not nature itself,
that is a predictability

and therefore, a place
for it in the garden.

I commend your
efforts, Meneer Chrome.

Is that my spring?

Yes.

Can it play
Lillibullero, Mr. Chrome?

No?

But surely there
will be some trick,

some diverting water work.

I have it.

Could it perhaps
all of a sudden wet

our guests with
jets from cherub's

pricks hiding in the foliage?

A letter, Chrome.

It's from Mr. Larousse.

He's alive.

The ship was becalms.

The rations were exhausted.

We starved.

We had lost the trade winds
and were in the doldrums.

The memory of the weevil
in the last ship's biscuits

was our salvation.

We had eaten the ship's
dogs, cats, and rats

and were looking
hard at each other.

But there was no meat on us.

And then, a slight
breeze got up.

And in our hallucinations,
we thought we saw an island.

But it was no mirage.

It was an island, a
tropical paradise.

We were saved.

Eden before the fall.

The figs crushed themselves
against your mouth.

Birds filled the air.

Coconuts pressed their
white, cool, wet flesh

against your skin.

We tripped on melons and
pineapples opened themselves

for us like flowers to the sun.

And some of our men
died of surfeit,

their digestion couldn't
cope with the luxury.

The island we later
discovered was--

The Bermudas.

Bermuda, yes.

Through the watery
maze and eternal spring.

Yes.

The oranges are golden
lamps in a green night.

Yes.

Don't interrupt, Thea.

Go on, please.

And then we traveled and
we saw such sites, opposites

of nature, swarms with black
feathers, plants that eat meat,

trees that grow upside
down, monsters of the sea.

And all the time, I
worked filling the holes

with my botanical collection
until we were a floating

ark of the world's
vegetation, loaded

to the gunnels with my seed.

Are there anymore
[inaudible],, Mrs. Galmoy?

More?

You thought I
was dead, drowned.

Dead and born again 100 times
and altered, changed, utterly.

If you had experienced
what I have experienced.

I cannot with anymore.

It is too affecting.

How did he find our address?

He followed the garden's
reputation, growing reputation.

It is talked about everywhere.

Will Monsieur like
it when he sees it?

He will like it
very, very much indeed.

But the garden?

The garden.

Yes.

Yes, it is a Larousse garden.

I have tried to do it
as he would have wished,

as he taught me.

But I feel he senses
that it lacks something.

It lacks something?

What?

There's something missing.

Missing?

Yes.

The bills lack nothing,
nothing from the bills.

If you want immortality,
he says, heat.

heat.

Heat.

So he says.

What's he talking about?

I sense a coldness.

Coldness?

At the center.

Tropical heat.

Plants grow vast in
a tenth of the time.

This garden will rival
the Chelsea Physique.

You must build a greenhouse
for Thomas Smithers,

a greenhouse, a hothouse,
hotbeds for my seed.

A greenhouse?

Walls of glass, boilers, pipes
of hot water under raised beds.

I'll follow you into the
kitchen, Mrs. Galmoy,

and pick at the
scraps, if I may.

Oh, God.

Glass is so
inordinately expensive.

You could do it, Thomas.

Exotic plants grown here
would be such fun, exciting,

don't you think?

Different.

People would come.

You could build the boilers
and the pipes in your foundry,

couldn't you?

You have the coal.

Till then, they'll sleep in
darkness in my warehouse here.

The idea of tropical
fruit in Gloucestershire,

don't you think it will provide
the uniqueness that a really

great garden needs?

Everyone will want to
come visit the greenhouse,

feel the warmth,
experience the exotic,

touch the new
textures and surfaces,

the unfamiliar
shapes and smells.

Will I need a place, sir?

Oh, Fitz.

Have I missed something?

Monsieur Larousse
has returned.

He survived unimaginable
horrors and now he's in Bristol

with his collection of
exotic plants, which we are

to house here in a hot house.

Well, that's certainly rich.

Your very own tropics.

Can you afford
all these, Thomas?

Isn't glass
inordinately expensive?

You want it, my dear,
you shall have it.

That cousin of hers, he
behaves the owns the place.

Thea.

You're not who
you say you are.

You can't tell me.

From now on, be very careful
what you eat and drink.

Are you alone?

Please, please close the door.

Please stay absolutely still.

What are you doing?

I am checking for drafts.

If you move around, your
dress and petticoat set up

disturbing eddies in the air.

There are no leaks.
That is good.

It is essential that we control
this space very precisely.

When the seeds are brought
from their dark dormant state

in the warehouse in Bristol,
and sown in this light

and heat and humidity,
there will be

an awakening, a resurrection.

The far side of the world
will be growing here,

the dark side of the world.

Dark side of the world?

There will be stripes on the
foliage, spots, swelling seed

heads with horns,
branches with tentacles,

flowers with the claws of crabs.

There will be flowers of
brown and green and black.

Black?

The Larousse collection
specializes in dark plants,

often black, primula, auricula,
canna indica, tulipifera

nigra, anemone atrocaerulea.

I would be unacceptable then
in a Larousse collection.

Oh, I think you would be
rare enough, exotic enough.

But my skin is white.

Completely white?

Completely.

No blemishes, no stains?

But inside, deep inside,
there is a darkness.

I feel there is.

I can't be sure.

It would need an expert touch
to discover and confirm it.

Perhaps if Monsieur
Larousse was here,

he would be able to verify.

But in the absence
of Monsieur Larousse.

I'm not worthy.

And I might not always
find it convenient to wait

for the arrival of
Monsieur Larousse.

May I move now?

Ah, my dear James, admiring
the latest handywork?

Something of the sort.

All ready to receive the seed.

Well, I think this justifies
a celebration, don't you?

I've arranged a little
something, a fete champetre,

with music by a composer
on a small scale of course.

We're not yet finished.

But, I think there's enough
here now to satisfy the curious,

don't you?

What?

Music, some popular music.

Have you seen my wife?

She came this way
a little earlier.

I saw Meneer Chrome in
the hothouse with somebody,

but it could not possibly
have been Juliana.

They were in the most
intimate embrace.

Good Lord.

Oh, indeed.

Their clothes
discarded around them,

like the petals of
some exotic flower,

their bodies entwined together
like the single stamen.

Who could it possibly be?

She'd walked discreetly away.

[background chatter]

[background chatter]

I've been looking for you.

I blame myself for not making
absolutely clear before.

The lady is forbidden fruit.

You were handle her for
the sake of our plan.

I don't want to
find teeth marks.

Next year of
course, we shall be

celebrating the new century,
and the full completion

of your garden.

I can see it all.

It's a triumph.

What's that smell?

I beg your pardon?

There's a faint stench
coming from somewhere.

Oh, It's the woad, must
be ready for harvest.

I hope it won't
spoil the concert.

Thea.

Keep it.

I couldn't possibly.

A keepsake of last night.

But nothing happened.

Don't be so impatient.

Chrome.

I know about this.

She's my patient, sir.

In the Orient, there
are gardens like these.

They make patterns.

I don't interfere
with your garden.

Leave me to look after her mind.

But these are
gardens of the mind.

How could she possibly
know about the Orient

and gardens and philosophy?

Well, don't you see?

That's what's so extraordinary.

This activity is bad for her.

It's only meant to be
water, a river, the Seven.

Don't you see how destructive
this man is to your daughter.

Leave my daughter to the
physician, Meneer Chrome.

I've told you before, Anne
is no concern of yours.

Remove the rocks.

Break the gravel
into straight lines.

You're sick.
She's not.

Heal your damn self.

Thea.

They're dancing the woad.

Come back in.

I have to talk to you.

I want you to understand.

Please listen to me, Thea.

You're not listening.

Let us roll all our
strength and all the sweetness

up into one ball.

and tear our pleasures
with rough strife

through the iron gates of life.

Thus though we cannot make
our sun stand still yet,

we shall make him run.

Thea, please!

Why don't you listen to me?

Because you're saying nothing.

Whisper your sweet
nothings to my mother.

She will hear you.

I can't.

Goodbye, Mr. Chrome,
whoever you are.

I wish they'd come inside.

Your husband is cursing God.

Fortunately, God can't
hear his blasphemies

above the noise of the wind.

Poor Meneer Chrome.

This is not natural.

It started with a spell.

I saw.

She pursed her lips and blew
all this is most unnatural.

She's a witch.

[crashing]

Why me?

Oh, poor Thomas.

The power of nature.

And fought with
Jesus gave them leave.

And the unclean spirits went
out and entered into the swine.

And the herd ran violently down
a steep place into the sea.

I warned you.

You cut it all down.

You let in the wind.

It's the woadman's wind.

What do you mean,
the woadman's wind?

Well, you have no reason
to keep me here now.

Why?

Has Smithers paid up
yet for his garden?

Paid?

No.

Fine.

We can't go on now.

Of course, we can go
on to the bitter end.

I want no more part of it.

For one who so enjoys
outdoor activity,

you are surprisingly
unconcerned for your freedom.

Do you remember?

I know who you are.

More important, who you are not.

You'll stay while I
still have a use for you.

Don't worry, Meneer
Chrome, the time

will come when I will
find your presence here

quite unnecessary.

Ah, Julianna.

Come.

We're going to look
at the greenhouse.

Will you come with
us, Mr. Fitzmorris?

[scream]

I've been thinking, Thomas.

There is a way you
can have your garden

and it will be an even
greater victory than before.

People will talk
about it forever,

especially those who may
conceivably be gloating now.

But it requires you to do
something of huge effrontery.

You must take up God's gauntlet.

You must divert the wind.

You must make a hill,
a hill to the north

who will shelter the garden.

And not just a hill,
consider the pyramids.

Consider the great Earth
mounds of the Iron Age.

Consider Akbar's tomb.

It must be conceived
as a monument.

It should be built
around a central chamber

and surmounted by a temple,
so that the whole would become

the final resting place
to the moving spirit

of the garden, your shrine.

What a riposte that
would be, how that

would set down this wagging.

Think about it.

I'm going to make a hill.

A hill, Thomas?

Good gracious.

A hill?

To divert the wind.

And not just a hill,
consider Akbar's tomb.

What a riposte that would be.

Akbar's tomb?

How?

What?

How will you make a hill?

With what?

Ah, we'll mound up
Earth from the fields.

The woad fields?

Any fucking fields.

There's absolutely no reason
to suppose a hill will reduce

the wind in the slightest.

In fact, in all probability
it will make it worse.

It will create turbulence and
cannot agree to a hill, sir.

Cannot agree, sir.

I am the designer.

And what of Larousse?

I happen to know that Larousse
is a great one for hills.

In fact, I recall I
first met him standing

on the Earl of
Portland's Parnassus

and together we admired
its construction.

Under the circumstances, I
think you would be ill advised

to object, Meneer Chrome.

I could provide
the design myself,

seeing that the
Dutch in general,

have little experience
of hills in particular.

Your folly is coming
along nicely, Thomas.

Hm, hm.

A fitting resting place for
our patron's immortal soul.

I wonder if I might have a
word with you, sir, in private.

If you must, you must.

He works so hard,
and with his own hands.

He's too exhausted for company.

He takes his meals alone.

Perhaps I should take
him a cooling drink.

- I'll come with you.
- No.

You are too busy
with your design.

I'm going alone.

I have published papers
on the question of diet.

Diet is most helpful
in these cases.

At St. Kenelm's, we could have
strict control over her intake.

You see, sir, there is
more to this than delusion

and hallucination
or even depression.

There is, I am
forced to believe,

the question of possession.

Possession.

By evil spirits.

And diet will help?

Undoubtedly.

If you want your daughter
back, you must surrender her

entirely to me as my patient.

All I wanted her to do was
to learn to behave less oddly.

And so she will.

She will return to you
from St. Kenelm's a lady.

I shall have to
speak with my wife.

And I will have the
necessary papers drawn up.

Why, my dear, a fountain
that can make the green night?

That really is much, much
cleverer than Lillibullero.

Please don't.

I wish--

What?

What do you wish?

I wish I was--

Would you like
a drink, my dear?

I brought it for
Meneer Chrome, but it

appears that he's wet enough.

Thank you, Mama, but no.

The0 physician is pleased
with her progress.

And what would this
physician know about progress?

Here, let me dry you.

No one's looking.

Let me dry your hair.

Woad has turned you green.

I saw them washing the
vats out in the reservoir.

I've been looking for a
chance to talk to you.

There's something
I wanted to say.

I too.

This cannot go on.

Go on?

This?

There is no substance to it.

It is all a sham, all of it.

All of it?

And what is my cousin
got to do with all this?

Your cousin?

Yes.

Seems he has some
influence over you.

Madam, I hardly
know your cousin.

I think I hardly know
you, Meneer Chrome.

And I thought I would.

What a shame.

Oh, well.

I shall, after all, have to
wait for Monsieur Larousse.

And then passion flower,
lady slipper, valerian, ah,

Mandrake root.

Madam, I write to you, the
reluctant muse of this garden.

To crave your forgiveness.

A present, Mr. Fitzmorris?

You have restored the
garden to its former glory.

You're about to receive full
payment from a grateful client.

You'll pass all
the money on to me.

I will extract your fee.

Then you will leave forever.

I thought it nice if
we parted friends.

Hence the little gift.

Something to remember our
successful partnership by.

Oh, believe me, I too
relish the conclusion

of our partnership.

Well, soon you can
go with my blessings.

I filled it for you
with a special mixture

I procured in Bristol.

Try it.

go on.

I don't take snuff.

It was an affectation
for the part.

I thought it might help.

[laughing]

When did this letter
arrive, Mrs. Galmoy?

I don't know exactly, Madam.

It was left in the hall.

[inaudible]

[tapping sound]

Well, that squares
us up, I think.

Cigar?
Ah, no.

Of course, you prefer snuff.

Monsieur Larousse?

Monsieur Larousse?

I'm no bloody Frenchman.

It's Pritchard.

He's drunk.

It's war.

I bring you glad tidings
of great joy, Master Tom.

War.

My god, what are you
building out there now?

Huh?

Moving mountains?

What war?

What war?

What does it matter to
us so long as there's

a requirement for cavalry.

Pritchard, why are you drunk?

It's that claret war.

Or the war of the
claret succession

or the acquisition of claret.

Since when did the
Smither's Foundry

ever concern itself with
the causes of the fight?

Now that is a
request for cannon.

The royal command, signed
for the King by Churchill.

I shall have to
go to the foundry.

Thomas, Thomas.

What's this?

The papers for your daughter.

I can't possibly
deal with that now.

I'll sign them on my return.

Thomas, will you be
visiting the warehouse

when you're there?

The Larousse collection,
this seed for the greenhouse.

Greenhouse?

Oh, Thomas, humor me, please.

Look, here's the address.

My dear, seeds are the
very last thing on my mind.

Remember, pay the
secretary from your share.

Of course.

I'm sending him with
you as far as the coast

to keep an eye on you.

You can leave any time
now as long as it's

before Smither's return.

And go without a word to a soul.

Never be heard of or seen again.

Remember.

Like a thief in the night.

What are you doing here?

Beg pardon, sir.

Isn't this yours, sir?

It was in the library.

What a view
there is from here.

I can't imagine what
Meneer Chrome was thinking

when he tried to object to it.

Come here.

What exactly is your
hold over him, Fitz?

I?

It's you, cous, not me.

This isn't a game, is it?

It's all in deadly seriousness.

What precisely
do you mean, cous?

I believe that you
are behind everything.

Well, my secret is yours,
just as your secret is mine.

We've always been good at
keeping secrets, you and I.

What secret?

Do you think when
this is completed,

it might prove an
alternative trysting place

for you and Meneer Chrome.

I know you have a predilection
for the greenhouse.

But do you not
think your husband's

crowning folly might
lend itself to adultery

in a rather special way?

Nothing happened
in the greenhouse.

Really?

Well, it doesn't matter.

I would have no difficulty
convincing Thomas that it did.

He's three quarters of the
way there already, believe me.

Is it all well,
Mr. Fitzmorris?

So shall we have a drink?

It is.

Indeed, you shall.

What is your preference, sir?

Hurry, Mr. Fritz.

Then you shall have
Perri in barrels,

with your permission, dear cous.

I do hope you don't think
that I'm taking over.

Mr. Larousse?

No workers.

No iron.

And no credit with
which to purchase them.

Start the furnace.

Start the furnace?

I want fire!

Ah, I was better as a boy
when my father taught me.

Are you leaving?

Yes.

Well, aren't you
going to tell anyone?

Not even my mother?

Does she know you're wandering
about loose in the passages?

Shh.

I won't tell if you don't.

It's time.

Perhaps we could withdraw
together to the sweet fields.

What are you doing?

Dressing.

Who for?

Myself, of course.

No one interesting
ever visits us.

What do you mean?

Meneer Chrome is leaving.

Perhaps the reaper is going
to do something to me.

What did you say?

He's leaving,
your Meneer Chrome.

The swollen belly of my pride.

My dear, what happened?

Go on.

Go on!

Thea.

All the time I've longed
to tell you the truth.

I felt that you saw
through me anyway.

I'm not Dutch.

My name isn't Chrome.

I became his secretary when
he worked at Hampton Court.

But when he sailed with
Larousse on the plant voyage,

he didn't need me.

I heard about the
Probin's Garden

and I knew I could do
it, but I had no name.

I never got the commission
of my own rights,

but I had to do it
after my father drowned.

I had to make the
money for my family.

I knew I could give them
the garden that they wanted.

And all was well
until Fitzmorris

came and stayed there.

He'd met Chrome before in
Holland, the real Chrome.

And from then on he used me.

But I didn't know
what it would involve.

I didn't know about you.

And I'm so sorry.

And what about my mother?

She was part of
his plans, not mine.

Poor her.

Thea.

Well, we have a garden.

I liked him too.

Too?

Chrome.

I'm afraid we were all
part of his strategy.

I'm confused by one thing.

I thought your cousin James
said he'd met Chrome in Holland

first.

Surely that would have been
the real Chrome, in which

case, he must have known.

Yes, Thomas.

It is strange.

Where is the [inaudible]?

I need a drink.

I'll go back and
tell them everything.

They won't believe me.

They'll believe whatever
Fitzmorris more says.

But first, I want to
take you to the sea.

You hate the sea.

It's you I love.

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

Thank you for the book.

No, Thea, Thea, no.

No!

Anne, where are you?

Stay away!

Ah!

Where's Anne?

She ran away.

We'll find her.

This sort of thing couldn't
possibly happen at St.

Kenelm's.

Leave my house.

And take your ministering
angels with you.

What about my patient?

Our daughter, sir.

We'll have to
manage without you.

Go.

We'll all have to
learn to do without.

We must start again.

I would like that
to be possible.

Hey, wait.

Hold up, wait.

She can't come with us.

You ever wonder what happened
to the real Meneer Chrome, hm?

[music playing]