The Shooting Party (1984) - full transcript

Autumn, 1913: on the eve of the Great War, a small party of lords and ladies gather at the Hertfordshire estate of Sir Randolph Nettleby. A code of propriety governs all: dress, breakfast, relations with the estate's peasants, courtship, shooting, adultery. Lionel Stephens, who is courting Sir Randolph's daughter, gets into a shooting competition with Lord Gilbert Hartlip; Lord Gilbert's wife carries on discreet affairs; a pamphleteer circles the estate calling for no more killing, and Sir Robert's grandson hopes to protect a wild duck he's befriended. A way of life is ending: Lord Gilbert's violation of the gentlemen's code suggests internal rot as the real world presses in.

Life is so extraordinarily pleasant

for those of us who are fortunate enough
to have been born in the right place.

Ought it to be so pleasant,
and for so few of us?

And isn't there sometimes
a kind of seity about it all,

and, at the same time, greed?

We seem to have become money-mad.

There's never been so much gambling,
speculating, fortune-hunting.

People say the military regime
in Germany

is going to insist on
a trial of strength sooner or later.

And supposing it did come,
some great trial,

might it not cleanse us
of our materialism...

MARCUS: What are you doing?

...our cynicism,
our lax, lazy hypocrisies?

Make us gird our sinews
and find simplicity again?

And then, should we not be fitter
afterwards, to make a better world?

For that must be what we're here for,

to leave the world
a better place than we found it.

Better be ready, Mr Stephens, sir.

Yes. Yes, quite right, Percy.

Over! Over on the right!

All out now, Sir Randolph!

We got 62 pheasant, two hares
and a woodcock today, sir.

Look here, Percy,
I don't mind you keeping my score,

but you'd better not let
Sir Randolph hear you.

Our host considers it unsporting,
which, of course, it is.

Seventy-one pheasant, three woodcock,
two hare, my lord.

Which puts us comfortably ahead
of Mr Stephens, I fancy.

Ahead, my lord,
but I don't know about comfortably.

BOB: Hello, isn't that
your pal, Lionel Stephens?

Buried in a book, as always.

- Hello, Bob.
- Afternoon, Lionel.

- Hello.
- Olivia.

You missed a good first day, Bob.

I'm desolate, Randolph.

But one can't refuse to be
one's brother's best man.

Especially when he's Godfrey's age!

Never mind. You're forgiven if you've brought
something dashing for the fancy dress party.

- You know Lady Hartlip?
- Yes, of course I do. Aline.

Oh, Lord, Minnie, I'm afraid
dressing up isn't really my style.

You're as bad as Randolph.

She did nicely today.

I don't doubt Olivia has brought
some ravishing confection.

- Another of your Greek classics?
- No, no.

Ruskin! I love Ruskin.

Even when he's talking nonsense,
I love the sound of it.

- Here you are.
- Thank you.

Hopkins, a mustard bath for Sir Reuben.

Lady Nettleby.

- REUBEN: A thousand thanks.
- Olivia, my dear.

Come along.

I hope we're forgiven for arriving late,
Sir Randolph.

It seems that everything will depend
on your turnout tomorrow night, Olivia.

Let me see. You know
Lord and Lady Hartlip, don't you?

Yes, of course. Hello, Gilbert.

- BOB: Gilbert.
- Hello, Bob.

- Olivia.
- Aline.

MINNIE: And Count Tibor Rakassyi,
on a visit to us from Hungary.

- What's that?
- Rakassyi.

- MINNIE: Lord and Lady Lilburn.
- How do you do?

How do you do?

Of course, you must know
our daughter-in-law Ida,

and her children, Cicely and Marcus.

MARCUS: Hello.
BOB: Yes, yes, we met.

At Henley, wasn't it?

Well, we must go up and get changed,
and I expect you'd like to unpack.

I'll get Rogers to send someone
to bring your things in from the car.

- No, you're not having any more.
- Please, Flo, just one more.

Hello, Flo.

Mum said to tell you
Dad's back is bad again.

He'll not be able
to beat for you tomorrow.

Oh, darn it! That back of his.

Can't Dr West do nothing for it, then?

- Oh, what's this?
- Mum sent them. Lardy cakes.

Oh, that's nice.
How many has Dan eaten, then?

Be a good girl
and look in on Tom Harker, and...

tell him I'll need him
as a beater tomorrow.

8:00 sharp, Batty Clump.

You said you wouldn't
have Tom Harker again.

Not after the last time
you caught him.

I don't like it.

Why should I give him a free look
at where the best game is to be had?

But it can't be helped.
He knows what he's doing,

and I'll need a reliable stop
if John's not with us.

Besides, Tom Harker
only poaches for the pot.

- CARDEW: Oh, good evening, my friend.
- Good evening to you, sir.

I wonder if you would be good enough
to direct me to the Nettleby Arms?

I'll point you in the right direction,
if you'll walk with me a little way.

That would be very kind.

Oh, I see you've got a bad leg. Is that
a consequence of the South African war?

Bless you, no, sir.
It was a mantrap that did it.

Good God!
Don't they know that's illegal?

I bear no grudge. Come on, hunt!

The gamekeeper was doing
his duty as he saw it.

His duty? To trap a fellow human being
in a diabolical contraption

that might cripple him for life?

And all to ensure there'll be a few more
poor birds for someone else to murder?

You might say so, in a sense.

Beasts are our brothers,
and the birds our sisters.

All we need for our daily sustenance are
the fruits of the field and the orchard.

They do say, "The Lord will provide."

Will they be out tomorrow
for their purposes of massacre?

Oh, I couldn't say, sir.

It's nothing to me,
the pastimes of the upper classes.

That silly ass, Matthews.
He's left half my things behind.

What a nuisance.

But you look very nice.

I've got the wrong studs and things on.

- No one could possibly guess.
- No, they're too smart.

It's frightfully bad form.

I look as if I was going
to some damn ball.

Oh, Bob.

It's all very well.

You can dismiss
these things if you like,


they are part of the structure...

of our lives.

If we lose respect for them...

we lose respect for ourselves.

My self-respect is not in the slightest
bit connected with your shirt studs.

But what you mean is
that I can afford to be frivolous,

because I am sustained
and maintained by you

and the position you confer on me
by making me your wife.

All I can say is...

"It would be far better,
for instance,

"that a gentleman should
mow his own fields

"than ride over other people's.”

You're trying to provoke me,

but I shall not rise.

Who is this ape, anyway?

John Ruskin. There you are, then!

Art and life are two different things,

as I believe he found out
when he tried marriage.

Who gave you this rubbish?

Lionel Stephens was looking at it today,

and he gave it to me
when I said I liked Ruskin.

Good man, Stephens.

WOMAN: Now you just pick that up and give it
to me, and let me show you how we do it.

This is where I'll be going
to my poor residence.

If you go right up to the crossroads,

the Nettleby Arms are
100 yards or so to your left.

Come on, son!

Oh, by the way... sir, let me
give you one of my leaflets.

One moment.

Here we are.

I can see that you're a fellow spirit.

Good day to you, sir.

TOM: Fellow bloody spirit, indeed.
Bloody lunatic!

Murder, indeed!
Bloody barmy, if you ask me.

What's this, then?

I have a message from Mr Glass.

Will you beat for him tomorrow?
8:00 sharp, Batty Clump?

Mr Glass wants me to beat, does he?
Who has fallen out?

- My dad.
- Has he?

It's his back.

What do you think of that, then?

-"The Rights of Animals.”
- TOM: Rights of animals, indeed.

Animals haven't got rights, have they?

Shouldn't think so. I don't know.

Except to hunt and be hunted.

Here then, look what I've got.

Liquorice. That's for being a good girl
and waiting so long.

Thank you, Mr Harker.

Hello, John.

It's a long, cold haul
to that bathroom, I must say.

I think that's everything, sir.

I'll empty this, and
fetch it back for you right away.

No hurry. I've done all the writing
I'm going to do this evening.

ELLEN: The way she talks about
Lady Hartlip, that Hortense.

I couldn't tell you some of the things
she says, miss. I couldn’t, really.

No, and I should think you'd better not.

Is she a flirt?
French maids in plays always are.

The way she was behaving with John
yesterday, I could've killed him.

Well, what you'll have to do is
marry John quickly,

and then you can
keep him in order.

Miss... Miss, we couldn't, not yet.

Not without any prospects.

Oh! John won't be a footman forever.

He did think of applying for a job
as a valet for Mr Stephens.

He thinks Mr Stephens
is a very nice gentleman.

I do, too.

Very nice.

And yet, in a funny way,

he's so nice,
and so good at everything,

and so kind and elegant and clever,

I wonder if he's quite real sometimes.

I think Count Rakassyi
is more your sort of gentleman, miss.

He's more lively,
if you know what I mean.

Ellen, you're just saying that
to find out what I think about him.

Miss... please sit down.

Of course he's more
"my sort of gentleman".

- But he's nearly 30, you know.
- Is he?

Never have guessed it.

He's quite well preserved,
if you know what I mean.

I shall have to marry him, then.

And you and John will have to come
to Hungary as valet and lady's maid.

And we'll gallop across
the great Hungarian snow-covered plain

from one glittering palace to another.

- I never really fancied snow.
- You are very particular.

Cicely, how often have I told you?

Please don't borrow things of mine
without asking.

There we are, miss.

Good evening, my lady.
Good luck, miss.

- You shouldn't encourage her, you know.
- I don't need to.

She does very well on her own.

Don't fawn on her too much.

It insults her.

You're always writing in that big,
brown book, Grandpapa.

It's my Game Book.

Well, part of it's my Game Book,
part of it's my thoughts.

It's not a bad idea to get into the
habit of writing down one's thoughts.

Saves one having to bother
other people with them.

I hate writing.

That's because
you're not very good at it.

Very few people enjoy doing
what they're not very good at.

My wife and I are very fond of each other,

but she cares for society
more than I do.

I have to cover my legs with powder.
It's the only way.

And lie on my back with my legs
in the air, and then my maid and I

have to pull as hard as we
possibly can for hours and hours.

Can it be worth this agony?

Oh, yes. They look
wonderful when they're on.

I feel tremendously
proud of myself in them.

- What are you talking about, Cicely?
- My new hunting boots.

Oh, yes, they can be agony.

What a boring conversation.

Is the Israelite not amongst us?

Oh, no, he got his feet wet
falling through some ditch,

so I persuaded him to let me send
Hopkins up to him with a mustard bath.

- You know how comforting it can be.
- Mmm-hmm.

Well, of course, if a fellow will
come out shooting inadequately shod...

He was not inadequately shod.

He was shod the same as everyone else,
I particularly noticed.

You don't want too many people about
with imagination and all that rubbish.

LIONEL: Of course, the dawn
in the High Alps is a miraculous sight.

OLIVIA: Oh, I should love to see it.

No, there's absolutely nothing in it.

I don't know what
you're referring to, I'm sure.

But I can guess it's
some kind of wickedness.

It's not wicked
to speculate, now, is it?

A thousand apologies for being late.

My dear friend, I'm sure it was Hopkins'
fault. He can be a dreadful bully.

Now, I don't think you know our
neighbours, Harry and Mildred Stamp.

Sir Reuben Hergesheimer.

Goodness. Well, I’ve heard so much
about you that I feel I know you.

- Dear Lady, you flatter me.
- John.

- Sir.
- HARRY: Good evening.

- Glass of sherry wine, Hergesheimer?
- A thousand thanks.

Before my mishap, I thought again today
how perfect your coverts are.

As good, in my opinion,
as Sandringham or Holcombe,

hough on a smaller scale,
of course.

We copied them.
Straight copy!

I didn’t realise that.
That's very interesting.

Almost bankrupted the estate
in the process.

Mildred, there's something
I've been wanting to ask you. Come.

SIR RANDOLPH: Remember we came to
certain conclusions about...

Sandringham. We were there twice.

A long time ago.

- Dinner is served, my lady.
- Thank you, Rogers.

Sir Reuben, would you like
to escort Mildred in to dinner?

Nothing will give me greater pleasure.

ALINE: Oh, do look!

IDA: Oh, dear.

Oh, how beautiful!

Rogers, I think we
have a need for Master Osbert.

How too divine!

It's no use trying to catch it.
We'd best wait for Osbert.

IDA: What a naughty boy.

- I'm so sorry, belle-mére.
- Nonsense, dear.

But I think Marc is right.
We ought to wait for Osbert.

If we startle it,
it might fly around and break something.

I do believe it's thinking.

I hope she doesn't
come to any sudden decisions.

IDA: Osbert, wait.
You might at least apologise to Granny.

- I'm sorry, Granny.
- Never mind, dear.

Rogers, I think it's safe
to serve dinner now.

A wild duck is an unusual pet.
How did you come by her?

I found her on the river last spring.
She'd lost her mother.

TIBOR: A mere chick, then?

She was only about
four days old, I think.

My dear boy, won't she fly away?

Oh, she does. She goes down
to the river with the other ducks,

but she comes back at night
and sometimes in the daytime.

That's why I never know
when she's coming back, you see.

And then she comes to look for me.

You'd best hang on to her
on the last day, young sir.

For if she's with the wild ducks,
she'll be for it.

Isn't that so, Randolph?

So, keep her in then, Os.
Don't forget!

Do you hear that, duck?

If you're out there on the last day,
flying over me,

I can tell you,
you haven't a hope.

Bang! Bang! And it will all be over.

If you kill her, I will kill you.


Oh, you will, will you?

And how do you propose
to do that, may I ask?

I will kill you by prayer.

Tell me, Mr Stephens,
which sport do you excel at?

- Billiards.
- Billiards?

- CICELY: That's a good one.
- I've never seen billiards.

- BOB: Very droll.
- Tricky game, billiards.

One would have thought you'd say shooting,
after the showing you made today.

Ah, well, one would be foolish, Lady Hartlip,
to claim prowess in that direction...

when in the company of
the finest shot in England.

Very civil of you.

And it's because of
the rhythm of the sentences

more than because of
what they say.

Just as I thought it would be,
like music.

Art makes us better,
don't you think?

My dear...

I couldn't look at you when you
smile. Did you notice?

There is a certain smile you have
which I cannot meet,

not because it dazzles me,
although it is dazzling,

but because it is so innocent.

You are truth
because you are beauty

or beauty
because you are truth.

And you cannot stop me
dying for you,

although I would much rather
live for you, if you would let me.

I hope you will find
this port to your liking.

If it's as good as the shooting you're
giving us, I, for one, shan't complain.

I understand you're making a name
for yourself at the bar, Stephens.

Thank you. But it's a slow process.

Have you ever thought of
going into politics?

Yes, and decided it's not my style.

You could never sit down on your estate
as I do, could you, Lionel?

Each to his own, Randolph.

Isn't it time you were putting down
some roots, Hergesheimer?

The thought of all those millions
going to charity

for want of an heir
is almost more than I can bear.

My problem is that,
if I had a son and heir,

I'm not so sure that I know
how I would wish him to behave.

Should he totally assimilate himself
into your society?

Or should he remember his ancestors
in the Polish ghetto?

Well, don't take too long
making up your mind.

If the landowning class goes,
everything goes.

- What do you say, Lionel?
- I don't know.

I think an age,

perhaps even a civilisation,
is coming to an end.

GILBERT: I wouldn't
agree with you there.

I believe it to be true.

If you take away the proper function
of the aristocracy, what can it do

but play games too seriously?

It happened at the end of feudalism
and it's happening now.

I must write a pamphlet about it.

Private circulation,

decently printed and so forth.

Death, disease and dentistry,

What's that?

Subjects that are forbidden
at table in this family.

And how long have you had Lionel
Stephens under your spell, my dear?

I think you must be mistaken.

Oh, don't worry.

I've set my cap at Sir Reuben
and his millions.

- Is this the book you wanted, Olivia?
- Yes, I think it is. Thank you.

What a competitive pair you are,
you and your husband.

Gilbert? Competitive?
Doesn't even join in the game.

It was sport I was
referring to, in his case.

Oh, sport!

Sport doesn't interest me at all.

Although, of course,
one likes a man to be good at it.

MINNIE: Then you could hardly have made
a better choice of husband.

ALINE: Well, one would think so.

But, you know, something very odd
was happening today.

Somebody was actually out to beat him.

I mean your inamorata.

What do you mean?

- Everybody wants to beat the champion.
- MINNIE: Aline.

Our young friend's mind
doesn't work like that.

Even with the madness of love running
in his veins to shine in front of her?

Why do you think men do these things?

That's so, isn't it, Sir Reuben?

Men do acts of valour to win the
hearts of women. Now, isn't that so?

What other reasons could there be?

A deed of valour for any man
is to partner my wife at bridge.

I did it once, 30 years ago.

I haven't touched a card since.

And I can see by the look in her eyes
that someone's going to have to do it.

The bridge fever is upon her.

But we have one expert here, I know.

- You are too kind, sir.
- Ah.

Well, one or two rubbers of bridge
would be nice.

- Bob?
- Yes, of course.


Oh, come on, you two.
Let's go and play the gramophone.

Try that new dance.

- Dance?
- Oh, anything but word games.

Shall we put your fame
at billiards to the test?

Yes. Yes, why not?

Now, are you absolutely sure
these are the steps?

Push a little bit, yes.
No, right and left.

Now, we go left.
I'm sure you've got this now.

No, right and left.

No, you go back. No.

Oh, no, you're hopeless.

Tibor, you try.

KEITH NICHOLS: Collegiate Rhythm

It's not a waltz, Tibor!

- What do you call it?
- It's certainly not a waltz!


let's go and play a game.

Is there much shooting, then,
on the estate?

This is Sir Randolph Nettleby's place.

Yeah, some of the best shooting
in the country, sir.

The King himself has shot here,

though not so often as his late Majesty.

Good God, how ghastly!

- Oh, how is that so?
- WALTER: All I know is,

it's a few bob in me pocket, and a
good hot meal in the middle of the day.

Yet it's murder!

I'm not stopping here
to listen to any of that kind of talk.

Until we recognise our universal kinship
with all living creatures,

we will remain in outer darkness.

In outer darkness!

Dear me.

Well, I hope you gentlemen
won't refuse my hospitality.

Thank you, sir.

MAN 1: Gentleman, indeed.
MAN 2: Huh, gentleman!

Does that give you
something to think about?

Did I see you with a new
pair of Purdeys today, Gilbert?

Yes, indeed.

Best guns I've ever had.

Made to fit me.

Nothing like Purdey
for smoothness and finish.

Yes, well,

perhaps to fit a difficult customer,

funny shoulders,
or one eye better than the other,

then Henry Holland
has the patience and the experience.

But I'd only ever go to Purdey now.

REUBEN: Well, I think
you've done it again.

- Congratulations.
- I went down with a heart there.

I'm afraid I shall have to
write you a cheque.

No, please, Lady Hartlip, allow me.

What a dear man.

I can only agree.

Cogswell & Harrison
is a very good beginner's gun.

Got my first elephant gun there.

I imagine you must be pursued
by them all now, Gilbert.

Yes, very vulgar.

Now, the only people to whom I'd give
unsolicited testimonial are Purdey.


No. 2 from Drei Klavierstücke, D.946

Elfrida, you haven't had your breakfast.


Watch out. What are you doing?

- It's a letter from me.
- A letter?

I want you to read it
when you're alone.

Now, it's quite long.

- Well, is it serious?
- Yes.

Two more, Sue.

Oh, no. What is it, John?

- You'll see.
- IDA: Yes?

Thank you.
Just put it down there.

Thank you, my lady.

- What does it say?
- Read it.

I can't. Not until I finish
the early morning teas.

Master Osbert,
whatever have you been doing?

The thing is, I went
to feed the duck,

and I was just moving the cage,
so as to let her get some better grass -

You're soaking.

when it tipped,
and I fell in the pond.

- But it will be all right.
- Well, what about the duck?

She flew off.

She was frightened, you see.

She'll come back soon.
She hasn't had breakfast.

Listen, does she come if you call?

Yes, when she can see me.

That'll be all right, then.

You better run and get dry.

And don't let anyone catch you.

Right. Go on.

OLIVIA: How I wish
we hadn't laughed at Osbert.

- But you didn't.
- I didn't think it was funny.

He has such strong emotions,

and he'll be educated,
and taught the ways of the world

and made to be on the side
of the guns and not the ducks.

It seems such a pity!

I suppose we all have to learn
to school our emotions to some extent.

Of course, but who invents
the rules of manly behaviour?

Who says it's the
height of heroism to kill?

For every hero, does there
have to be a living sacrifice?

You know, I always knew
you had such fire.

I just didn't think you'd show it.
At least, not to me.

I feel I can because you are a
true friend and won't laugh.

No, I won't laugh.

We are being very serious.

I think that might be
breaking one of the rules.

- I think it's bad form to be serious.
- I'm quite sure it is.

- Lionel, do you think he's sound?
- Let's have a look.

Thank you.

Come on, fellow.

It's just that having a son of my own

has made me aware
of how differently I feel from a man,

and more, how I would really like to
rebel against the world men have made.

I see the beauty of
a good shoot, of course,

but I resist the added solemnity
the whole thing gets

from that sacrificial note
of death, of blood.

Why do men have to have that
to complete their pleasure?

Nature includes the note of death,
of blood. It's all around us.

You don't have to love it and seek it out
and long for war so you can have more.

- Do we do that?
- Have you never wanted a war?

Well, I suppose there's something in
every man that answers the call of battle.

- There you are, then.
- There I am.

But I shall not,
if I can possibly help it,

shoot young Osbert's duck.

That I do believe!

- Shall we walk back, then?
- All right.

MAN: Single.

SIR RANDOLPH: Ah, Gilbert.


Yes, I didn't realise it was you.

Oh, my dear fellow, do forgive me.

I wasn't about to take a pot shot
at a Roman emperor.

But with these new guns,
I thought my lad and I would

just have a minute to do the drill,
before we got going.

I wouldn't have thought
that you'd need it.

Seemed to go like clockwork yesterday.

Anyway, it wouldn't have mattered.
Julius Caesar, I mean.

It's just one of those casts. You know,
get them at the British Museum.

Not that you'd have been loaded!

At least, I hope you wouldn't.

The asters, shouldn't they be divided?

Best not lift them now, my lady.

Not until the spring.

They won't thank us for it.

- Of course, if you insist...
- No, no.

There's only room for one despot
in the garden, Ogden.

Where are you going this morning?

VIOLET: We're going
to look for Elfrida Beetle,

so Osbert can go and get her
when he's finished lessons.

And who is Elfrida Beetle?

It's the name
they give the duck, my lady.

She used to be called Alfred,

and then when she turned into a female,
she was going to be called Alfreda.

But Nanny said it wasn't
Alfreda, but Elfrida,

and she'd just swallowed a beetle
and "Elle" is French for "she".

I see.

She freed the beetle by swallowing it.

She freed it from the miseries of life.

Elfrida Beetle, Elfrida Beetle.

It's a silly name,
but it's her name.

- And now she's run away.
- She'll be back.

I never saw such a greedy animal.

- Bird.
- No need to be pert.

# Pert bird, bird pert
Perty birdy, birdy pert #


Unspeakable cads.

Straight ahead, my lord.

GLASS: All out, Sir Randolph.

Fifteen, sir.

Seventeen, my lord.

Oh, pretty.

- Nottingham?
- Bruges.

An old admirer.

The sweetest thing.

A Norwegian, can you imagine?


I've always thought your taste in men
more Ibsenite than Chekhovian.

Oh, Minnie, you are a beast.

What shall I do with it, do you think?

It's too pretty to put on a petticoat, and
there isn't enough for a pair of sleeves.

Oh, you're so clever
at that sort of thing.

I expect I'd simply trim a bodice
with it or something.

Haven't you got something being made
you could find a use for it?

Well, yes.

But I was thinking of not getting in contact
with my dressmaker for a month or so.

I'm sure I'm right. Hmm?

I have to be rather elusive with people
of that nature for a month or so.

Oh, bills.

My bookmaker mainly.

I've never known a man
so stingy with credit.

Well, I could let you
have a little something...

for a few weeks,
if it would help.

Oh, Minnie, you are an angel.
No, I couldn't possibly.

I can't bear looting my friends.

If only I hadn't
had that rotten Ascot.

I can't tell Gilbert,
because I promised to give up gambling.

I can let you have it back
in a month or so.

Gilbert pays me part of my dress
allowance on the 1st of December.

Of course I'll let you
have a little something.

It's horrid to be worried about money.

A hundred? Two?

you are an angel.

You are an angel. I...

Could you possibly make it two?

In a little while, we'll go inside
and see if we can find my chequebook.

And then, what about a game of whist?

Oh, too divine.

As long as you don't
make it double or quits.

Ah, there.

Come on, get out of it.

CARDEW: Enough!

Look out, you fool!

What the hell is that man doing?

Silly sodding bugger.

- Fetch that man over here, Glass.
- Aye.

Hold the dogs.

You don't approve of our sport, I fear.

It's not my idea of sport.

It's my idea of murder.

Ah, yes, it's all right, Glass.

We'll go on down to the marquee
as soon as this drive is over.

- Aye, sir.
- Let the gentleman go, Charlie.

You've caught us just at the end
of our murderous morning.

We're about to join the rest of
our party, for an ill-earned luncheon.

Tell me, are you from these parts?
I don't think I've ever met you before.

My own work.

"The Rights of Animals."

"A vindication of the doctrine of

"universal kinship."
Oh, yes.

These pheasants, of course,
wouldn't have been here at all

if we hadn't bred them,
hatched them, reared them.

One could argue that we give them life,

and then, after a bit,
we take it away from them again,

abrogating to us,

well, somewhat God-like powers,
I admit,

but don't let's be legalistic
about it.

This is a very well-produced pamphlet.

Where do you get a thing
like this printed? Is it expensive?

- You don't mind my asking you?
- Oh, no. Not at all.

I know a very good printer at Dorking,
just near where I live.

An excellent man
of anarchistic views.

- He gives me very good rates.
- Ah, special terms. Mmm.

He wouldn't give me
such good ones, I suppose?

Are you a pamphleteer, too, sir?

Well, I was thinking of making
a sort of foray in that direction, yes.

A polemic, would you say?

Yes, I think that's the right word.

Would you call it a diatribe?

Yes, I could call it
a diatribe, Mr Cardew.

"The Ruin of Rural England, a Diatribe."

Precisely. I don't think we should
continue our discussion here.

We'll postpone it
some other time.

My fellow murderers are
a rather hot-blooded lot.

- My card.
- Ah.

How charming!

Well, we'll certainly keep in touch,

and you will broach the matter
with your printer friend?

Oh, he'll send you
an estimate without fail, sir.

Good day to you.

And I bid you good day, sir.

I suppose you really do have to have him
up in front of the Bench, do you?

He had to get back to Hindhead.

Pretty place, Hindhead.

There they are!

IDA: I do hope her coltish ways
don't give Count Rakassyi the idea

that he's approved of as a suitor.

Well, couldn't we look at him
as just a little bit "sur le tapis"?

- Just a foot, just a toe.
- Her father is against it.

He says things are too
unsettled at the moment.

But if there were a war,
we'd all be on the same side.

The royal families
could hardly fight each other.

And the Rakassyis
are wonderfully rich.

An English match would be
much more secure.

Mmm, well, I suppose all those foreign
relations could be a bit of a bore.

Oh, yes!

And we can enjoy a year or two
of speculating, can't we?

How will Cicely feel about that, then?

Oh, she'll enjoy speculating, too.

She's not like you, my dear,
with those high ideals

which make you the 'princesse lointaine'
for so many of your admirers.

We're not all as
spiritual as you, Olivia.


- That's why we cherish you so.
- Oh!

Most of us are very mundane.

GLASS: Right, stand back, you lot!

Loaders first.

It said the most wonderful things.
You wouldn't have believed it.

But what sort of things?

Oh, that she was truth
because she was beauty,

or beauty because she was truth.

And that there was going to be a war,

and he was going to gird his loins
and fight for her sake.

Do be careful, dear. He'll hear.

But really, though,
don't you think it's romantic?

Sounds a bit overdone to me.

I mean, what would you think,
were you to receive such a letter?

I should be fascinated.

And you?

I should feel ashamed.
I should know I wasn't worthy of it.

But wouldn't you be secretly
just a little pleased?

Ellen was pleased!

See the deer?

They're bred before on Bowler's plantation.
It's the bracken up top they like.

Better not let my dad hear
you've been up there.

These are hard times
for the local people.

No one seems to care very much
about country nowadays.

But surely the popular idea of England
is a village green,

wood smoke from cottage chimneys,
contented labourers,

a benevolent squire.

The reason why that idea is
such a powerful one is that it's a myth.

Well, it hasn't existed for many years.

Is there no way
of turning the myth into reality?

It would mean working against
the whole current of history.

I wouldn't entirely agree, Randolph.

Why are you smiling?

I can't imagine,

except that

sometimes when my thoughts about
the future are particularly gloomy,

I find myself feeling
more and more light-hearted.

I suppose I've always fancied the idea
of taking to the hills

when the barbarian hordes overrun us.

I think I should enjoy that.

- MINNIE: Randolph, lunch is served.
- Hmm?

- Lunch is served.
- Ah.

Well, Minnie would hate that
marginally more than I should.

She and I will have to stay at home
and make friends with the barbarians.

Well, it would be all right if we could
get back, but it wouldn't be worth it.

You know, the landlord
is the cause of crime.

He invents the laws, and invents
the punishment for breaking them.

Here, hold this.

Now, if the land
belonged to us all,

it stands to reason
there'd be no law of trespass.

WALTER: What, belongs to us all?
That means belongs to the government.

If you ask me, I'd sooner sweat
for the buggers I know

than for a bunch of bloody politicians
up in London.

JARVIS: That's right.
Follow their own interests, politicians.

That may be so. That may very well be so
of most of them. But not Lloyd George.

He's a man of the people.

Welshman, isn't he?

What's that got to do with anything?

Well, we've had some of them
around our parts,

Welsh miners doing Derbyshire men
out of work with their smooth talk.

Never trust a bloody Welshman.

Nor a Gypsy, nor a Jew.



Elfrida Beetle!

Elfrida! Elfrida! Elfrida!

- Where is Osbert?
- Osbert?

Oh, I expect by now
he's trying to find his duck,

if the silly thing hasn't turned up.
It was lost this morning.

If it should fail to appear,

I should feel honoured
to take on the responsibility

of providing a successor.

I think you're the kindest
person in the world.

CICELY: Exactly, in a perfectly
straightforward manner for a Zulu.

- And the Kaiser.
- I'm sure Zulus aren't cannibals.

Granny told me!

isn't it true that Mr Adrian Carr
was eaten by cannibals?

Well, of course he was eaten
by cannibals. Poor man!

ALINE: How dreadful.

OSBERT: Elfrida!

Elfrida! Elfrida Beetle!

OLIVIA: Wouldn't it be lovely
to live here always?

I should like it well enough
if I could have my books,

and if I were in love
with my companion,

and if we could keep it warm.

It would have to be
an idyll for you, then.

My lord.

I don't know that I would ask so much.
I could be happy here alone.

That would be a waste.

- Of what?
- Of you.

I might be becoming wise,
then it wouldn't be a waste.

We're meant to share our lives,
not develop in isolation.

Besides, I think you're wise already.

You can't know me very well
if you think that.

- Then why do I feel as if I do?
- I don't know.

You know me, too.

You know everything about me.

- That's impossible.
- Yes, but it's also true.

We recognise each other because...

because our souls
knew each other before.


Oh, in heaven or somewhere.
I don't know.

- You seem very sure.
- I am.

Quite, quite sure.

I think it's more as if -

SIR RANDOLPH: Now, what did I do
with Lorna's leash?

Will you walk with me tomorrow?


GLASS: On your feet! We're moving.

SIR RANDOLPH: Lorna, back to work.

Enough of that.

GLASS: Ah! Look alive, boy.

SIR RANDOLPH: No, no, no.
Let me look. Let me look.

GLASS: What's that?

It's only a bit of scribble.

No, you have it to the life.

Thank you for sharing it with me.

That's a real talent, Glass.

I wish you'd let me put that boy
through grammar school.

He's happy enough where he is.

Why give him ideas above his station?

Oh, well, if you change your mind,
the offer is still on.

Come, Lorna.

Oh, whatever's the matter,
Master Osbert?

Well, didn't you find your duck?

Oh, well, never mind, eh?

Shooting's over for today.

But if she doesn't come back tonight,
they'll shoot her tomorrow.

Not if I've got anything
to do with it, they won't.

How will you stop them?

If she doesn't come back tonight,

first thing in the morning,
soon as I've done me chores,

I'll come and help you find her.

Will you? Will you, really?


They'll have to shoot us
before they shoot her.


- You are a brick, Ellen.
- Yeah.

I know all about that.

Now, get a wiggle into your fancy dress

before her ladyship
starts creating with you.

The Captain of the Pinafore.

- Oh.
- Hopeless.

Well, what are you supposed to be, then?
Little Bo Peep?

That's quite enough from you.

Osbert, you are splendid,
absolutely splendid.

Very good, Osbert.

Who's next?

Is this right?
"The spirit of ragtime"?

You bet!


SIR RANDOLPH: Oscar Wilde.
MINNIE: Oh, dear.

- Not in the very best of taste.
- Pas devant.

Who's Oscar Wilde?

He wrote "The Happy Prince", my dear.

The butterfly and a bumblebee.

She's beautiful.

- So, she got you into it, eh, Bob?
- I'm afraid so.

SIR RANDOLPH: A wicked highwayman.

Why is he wicked? I like him.

SIR RANDOLPH: A classical tableau.

- What's Marcus doing?
- NANNY: He's being a statue.

- But he's breathing.
- Oh, I give up.

Der Rosenkavalier.

- Wunderbar.
- Isn't that dashing?

- What's he so pleased about?
- MARCUS: Himself.

CICELY: Shut up, you.

SIR RANDOLPH: La Dame aux camélias
and Alfredo Germont.

ALINE: Oh, just a minute.

BOB: Technical hitch.

REUBEN: Perhaps I could help.

- BOB: I think not.
- Come on.

- Oh!

- VIOLET: Is she ill?
- No, dear. She's acting.

Oh, Gilbert, you might have
asked the children.

They'd have found you something
out of the dressing-up box.

I feel thoroughly humiliated.

MINNIE: Well, never mind.

We must give away the prizes.
It's long past Violet's bedtime.

Now, darling, here's a prize
for the best-dressed lady,

and there's a prize
for the best-dressed gentleman.

And, darling, now you must choose.

That's easy. Him and her.

REUBEN: I don't think anyone
can quarrel with that.

ALINE: Speak for yourself.

- SIR RANDOLPH: How did you choose, Violet?
- 'Cause they're the best.

MINNIE: And here's a prize for the judge.

- Would you like...

- Guests, our guests, my dear.
- Oh, right.

- Relieve me of that, would you?
- Yes, sir.

Gilbert, here's a prize for you.

- Ah, kind of you, Randolph.
- Are you all right?

Yes, but if you would excuse me, it's
nothing a good night's rest won't put right.

But I should like to
do you justice tomorrow.

Ah, my dear fellow.

- Good night.
- Good night.

SIR RANDOLPH: It's really rotten,
him having those terrible headaches.

I've known a lot of men who shoot
as much as Gilbert does

to be afflicted by the same thing.

Osbert! Violet!
Come here. It's bedtime.

BUTLER: The Honourable
Dora Davis and Lord Lucas.

OSBERT: That's babyish.


John Hoskins.

What did you think of my letter?

Tell you the truth,

I don't know.

I thought you'd like it.

I did at first.

Then somehow... Ouch!

- Well, what?
- Well...

- All them long words!
- Listen.

I need to think about it.

And you need to be off out of it
before someone catches you here.

Or we're both up in front of her ladyship
and sacked without a reference between us.

Well, we'll talk about it
in the morning.

Not if you don't hop it now.

It's a lot of nonsense,

that's what it is.

A lot of blooming nonsense.

LIONEL: Hello.


- Osbert's army.
- Yes.


You said, as if...

- As if, what?
- Today, at luncheon.

You didn't finish.

I said we'd known each other before.
And you said, it was as if...

As if you were my long-lost brother.

That puts me in my place.

- I'm so sorry if...
- I love you.

I love you.

- I've been so stupid.
- Oh, no.

I thought...

it was just that we...

liked each other,

that we had things in common,




I'm sorry, my dear.
I didn't mean to bother you.

But I wondered if you had
any of those sachets,

the ones that the French doctor
gave you. My head is agony again.

Aren't they some
terribly dangerous drug?

You ought to be careful, you know.

Oh, it's only laudanum or chloroform,
I don't know.

Anyway, I must have something.

You poor thing.

I could stay a bit, if...

if you liked.

My dear,

it's not one of our weeks.

Anyway, you need rest if you're
going to do yourself justice tomorrow.

Well, you can't let people think that
Lionel Stephens is a better shot than you.

You know how people love to talk.

Is that what people are saying?

Well, I don't know what they're saying.

Don't look so shocked.

You know you've
been thinking about it.


What do they say?

- Well, tell me what anyone has said.
- I don't know what.

They're not saying anything.
Don't yap at me, Gilbert!

I'm not yapping.

Somebody must have said something
otherwise you wouldn't have thought of it.

Yes, I would.

Why not?

- You never think about my shooting.
- Of course I do.

At least, I...

I do if I see anyone
trying to be as good as you.

I may not be interested
in everything you do,

but I am loyal to you.
You know that.

I'll show them.

I'll get a good night's rest,
and I'll show them. You'll see.

You do that.

You can beat Lionel Stephens any day,
the conceited young fool.

No, I don't think he's that.

But I'll beat him, though.

He is conceited...

and a prig.

You're only saying that because
you're becoming bored with Charles

and would have liked
a flirtation with Lionel,

whereas perhaps
he has other preoccupations.

That's the sort of bitter remark
we agreed never to make to each other.

Hmm, it wasn't meant to be bitter.

I don't feel bitter. I did once,
but I'm getting used to it now.

Don't try to sound pathetic.

We made an agreement,
and I have stuck to it.

You started it all with that
disgusting old hag in Maida Vale.

It's quite usual
for men to have distractions

which don't affect
their devotion to their wives.

My distractions don't affect
my devotion to you.

I have never been disloyal to you,
and I have never let you down in public.

Now, please go.
I'm getting a headache.

It must be infectious.

Yes, I'll go.

Thank you for the...

Come on, son! Come on, boy!

That's a good boy. Here, son.


Here, boy.

Will you really ask me to stay?

I shall ask my mother
to write to yours as soon as I get home.

MARCUS: She can't speak
a word of Hungarian.

TIBOR: Nobody does.
We speak French.

MARCUS: Her French isn't
that good either.

It is. It's trés convenable,
according to mademoiselle.

So, you will do very well.

(SPEAKING FRENCH) There will be riding,
and hunting too, if you would like.

So, we'll be going
riding and hunting, will we?

- So there!
- Not bad.

In the evening, there will be musicians,

and we can dance in the ballroom, all
surrounded by Venetian looking-glasses.

- I think you would like to waltz there.
- I know I should.

You won't forget, will you,
when you get home?

No, I won't forget.

Elfrida Beetle!


Elfrida Beetle!

BOB: Of course,
they'd been there with us.

I was so intrigued, because Rakassyi,
apparently, is going to give up -

He does rather
ask for these things!

money and go into politics.

Well, whether or not it's a good idea,
I'm not persuaded, but...

But, of course,
you know the Barlows, don't you,

at... at Rothermere.
They're such good sorts.

MINNIE: Yes, we were there
with the Charlesworths.

Of course,
you and Olivia had left.

I must say, I thought Monica was looking
quite dreadful the last time I saw her.

The talk at the club is that
Raymond is drinking very heavily again.

MINNIE: Well, he's in
the right place, isn't he?

- BOB: They say...
- Things to do.

I'll move off at about
half past nine, I would say.

And we could take the duck
at the end of the morning,

if that would amuse any of you.

- Oh, Aline.
- Good morning.

- Fit, Gilbert?
- Good morning.

Very much so, thank you.

- Morning, Gilbert.
- MINNIE: Did you sleep well, my dear?

Good morning, good morning.

But they are a strange bunch,
those Grenthals, aren't they?

They all look so dago, don't they?
So Spanish, don't they?

Well, they say they're Cornish,
which of course they aren't.

I think it's the result of...

- ... Armada survivors...
- Bob?

and, um...
too many willing Cornish dagos.

My dear?

Oh. Thank you.


suppose there are some other people
somewhere. People we don't know.

- What sort of people?
- Oh.

Perfectly charming people,
really delightful.

Intelligent, amusing, civilised,
and we don't know them.

And nobody we know knows them.

And they don't know us,
or anybody who knows us.

Well, I'd say it was impossible.

But even if it were possible,

I don't think I'd want
to know such people,

because... I don't think I'd find
anything in common with them.

Shall you walk with me today?

I'm sorry, Bob, but I
promised to walk with Lionel.

Ah. No, never mind.

We'll have plenty
of other opportunities.

I wanted to remind you
how we ordinary mortals shoot.

It's a sport, Bob,
not a duel we're engaged in.

That's a welcome
assurance, Stephens.

- WALTER: Tom?
- Yeah?


Good day, Sir Randolph.

- Good day, Sir Randolph.
- Good day, Sir Randolph.

- Briggs.
- BRIGGS: Sir Randolph.

- Sutcliffe.
- Sir Randolph.

- Rhodes.
- Sir Randolph.

- WALTER: We'd best be on our way.
- Here, my matches.

- How are you keeping, Harker?
- Oh, can't complain, sir.

- His mercies are manifold.
- Yes, indeed, they are.

That was a very good piece of work
you did on that roof in Helmingham.

I was over there the other day.

Why, thank you, sir.


My first job, scaring them,
age of eight.

Rook pie! You don't
want too much of it.

Sorry, Sir Randolph.

I see you've got one of your
favourite characters beating today.

Against my better
judgement, Sir Randolph.

Against my
better judgement!

I like him.

Get over there! Wait for me!

Him and me are counting, all right.

We're going to smash
the other fellow today.

Yeah, keep a lookout,
if Sir Randolph catches you.

Bugger that!

I suppose he is really one of the
best-looking people one knows.

Oh? who?

Lionel Stephens.

He has such a sensitive face.

Like Phoebus Apollo
turned fasting friar.


George Meredith.

In "The Egoist" the hero,
I can't remember his name,

the man she loves, not the egoist.

Oh. Can't think what you mean.

- Oh, you do sound cross.
- I am cross.

Your friend, Lionel Stephens,
is being thoroughly annoying.

For some unknown reason, he
set himself up in competition with me.

Well, you've got all the day
to beat him in.

I can't shoot any more birds
than I'm shooting already.

Well, you'll have to try a bit harder.

Poach a bit or something.

Why not? It's more fun.

Don't see why Lionel Stephens
should get everything his own way.

Everyone else stand still
when we stand still.

Then you move forward,

taking your cue
from Tom and Walter.

Now, we do the same again, three or
four times, till we get to the end.

Now, you can be stop.

And I don't care if it is favouritism.

He may not see shooting like we'll see
today, not even if he lives to be 100.

- Eh?
- Yeah.


- Everyone clear?
- ALL: Yeah.

Off we go, then.

What I said last night,
I shouldn't have said it.

Don't let it mean that you change,
that you avoid me.

It's wrong to avoid things
or not to recognise them.

- That was what it was all the time.
- All the time.

That was what it was.

That is what it is.

I love you, too.

Mr Stephens, sir.

Over on the left, your bird, sir.

They're going to shoot her, Ellen.
They're going to shoot her.

We'll find her, don't you worry.

They're 15 ahead now, my lord.

Glory be to God.

All out, Sir Randolph.

MAN: Say, what's going on
over here, then?

Christ. He's been shot.

WALTER: He's been shot!


Weir, stay where you are.

ALINE: Oh, dear.

Gilbert has overreached himself.

- Keep back.
- Keep back. Don't crowd.

Come on, out. Out.

I thought it was you.

You was stop, wasn't you?

Tom said one stop wasn't enough.

TOM: My eyes.
I don't want to lose my eyes!

SIR RANDOLPH: Now what the hell
do you take me for?

That's the way!
So as to have a look at you.

There you are.

Yes. Here.

Hold this up to your face
with your left hand there.

We'll get you home.
Who is the fastest runner here?

I am, sir.

Ah, well, you run as fast as you can
to Dr West. Bring him here.

Go with him, Walter.

Can one do anything?

I don't think so, sir.
I'm going for a doctor.

Oh, God.

Better tell the men
to go home, all of them.

There's nothing they can do here.
Oh, get some of them to make a litter.

- You know, something to carry Tom on.
- Right, sir.

Hey, you lot, off you go home.
And the rest of you, come with me.

And, Lionel, tell them that everything
is under control here, and

the best thing they can do
is to go home.

Except get a message to Patton
to bring the car for Minnie.


When my time comes, I'll go, but...

But I don't want to be a blind man.

Oh, no. Of course not.

Now, now, now, now, don't worry.
Dr West will come here soon.

Awful thing to happen.


It was a woodcock.

I had no chance of getting it
unless I swung fast.

Of course, I had no idea
that the man was so close.

GILBERT: I'll make it all right with him.

Financially, I mean.

You weren't shooting
like a gentleman there, Gilbert.

What do you think you're doing,
sitting in there?

We'll need some sacking.
You'll find some in the game cart.

- Is the man badly hurt?
- Caught him in the face, sir.

- Dr West has been sent for.
- Blinded?

- Expensive.
- Most unfortunate.

I suppose we had better be
getting back to the house

if there's nothing
we can do here.

GLASS: Ah, that'll do.
Come on, bring that one in there.

Are they not going
to shoot the duck?

My dear Aline, a man
has been shot in the face.

It's not as if he's just
been peppered, you know.


The poor creature!
They've shot it already.

You poor thing.
We'll get you another one.

It's alive?

Of course it's alive.
It's tired, that's all.

Like you, my dear,
I think she's a survivor.

Who was the water sprite, pray?

ALINE: God knows.

I think my place
is with our hostess,

and yours
is with your husband.

You dear old-fashioned thing.

Is it getting dark?

Yes, it's beginning to get dark, Tom.

No wind, though.
Not a breath of wind.

Dark nights, a dry wind,
and you'll get rabbits.

No wind, no rabbits.
Oh, I wish I...

Come on now, Tom.

- Remember who you're talking to.
- I remember. I remember.

Is it dark?

It's not very dark yet, Tom.

Looks dark to me.

It's getting dark to me.

I believe, sir, the bullet has
penetrated the brain. I feel it so.

We shan't have long to wait, Tom.

Dr West must be here soon.

CICELY: Osbert!


Who's been hurt?

Tom Harker.

Oh, who will look after
his dog if he's dead?

- TIBOR: He is not dead.
- He has to go to hospital, then?

Go home.

I'll find someone and make sure
they look after the dog.

- Promise?
- I promise.

Go on, run.

It can't be long, Tom,
before the doctor comes.

Where's that flask again?

Here, Tom.

Alcohol never interested me.

I've seen too much of it,
what it can do to a man.

- This is medicinal, Tom.
- A smoke, I like.

A smoke and a chat is a sociable thing.

I've seen too many men brought low
by drink or gambling.

Stay quiet, I would, Tom.

Relax, that's what you want to do.

- Don't try to talk.
- Not talk. Not talk, he says.

I've all eternity
not to talk, haven't I?

That's tobacco, that is.

- Turkish, I shouldn't wonder.
- SIR RANDOLPH: Yes, it's Turkish.

That's fine tobacco, that is.

If I'm to go,
that's a fine last smoke.

It gives me some strength

to replace what I feel
draining out of me.

Draining out of me, it's...

CICELY: Mr Glass?

I know it's not really important,

but I promised Osbert
I'd ask you to make sure

someone looked after
Tom's dog.

I'll see to it myself, miss.

Tell Master Osbert
not to worry.

Give me a prayer, sir.

Don't deny me that.
It's your way to pray.

Tis you that orders up
the prayers in church.

The vicar only prays
what prayers you tell him.

Even I know that, that hardly crosses the
doorstep of the church from year to year.

Say a prayer, sir.

I'll say amen.

All right, I'll say a prayer, Tom,
if that's what you want.

O, almighty and most merciful God,

of thy bountiful goodness keep us,
we beseech thee,

from all things that may hurt us,

that we, being ready in body and soul,

may cheerfully accomplish those things
that thou wouldst have done...

through Jesus Christ, our Lord.


Amen, I say. Amen.


I should have stopped you. Such a
scene is not suitable for a young girl.

As a matter of fact, there is nothing
that is not suitable for a young girl.

- Not even murder.
- Come, Cicely, this was an accident.

- Accidental murder, then.
- He was only a peasant.

The thing is, you see,
that we all knew him.

When you come
and visit me in Hungary -

Oh, I think I shall never
visit you in Hungary.

Don't stop, sir, I beg you.

More prayers, more...
More prayers.

We could...

SIR RANDOLPH: We could say
the Lord's Prayer, Tom, together.

Father which art in heaven...

Our Father which
art in heaven...

-...hallowed be Thy name.
-...hallowed be Thy name.

SIR RANDOLPH: Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven.

TOM: ...will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.

this day our daily bread.

Give us this day
our daily bread.

- And forgive us our trespasses...
- Forgive us our debts, as...

we forgive...

SIR RANDOLPH: we forgive those
who trespass against us.

- Lead us not into temptation...
- Temptation.

...but deliver us from evil.

For Thine is the kingdom,

the power and the glory,
forever and ever, world without end.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Oh, Lord into Thy hands...

- into Thy hands...
-...I commend my spirit. spirit.

God save the British Empire.

Tom, it's all right.

It's the doctor coming.

- I could have prevented it...
- No.

if I'd refused to join in
that absurd rivalry.

He provoked you.

I wasn't as insane as he was,

but I was reckless.

I was carried away.

Because of what
we were talking about?

- Perhaps.
- Yes.

We were talking about...

something that was impossible
as if it were possible.

- It was still true.
- Yes.

But we have to live
in the real world,

a world with...
other people in it.

It is still true that
we love each other.

Oh, yes.

It is true.

this wasteland where no birds sing,

my mind keeps going back
to that shooting party at Nettleby.

Perhaps it was a premonition.

I know only that it was then
that for me,

killing of any kind
ceased to be a sport.

And in this past year
I have done nothing

but seek to kill my fellow man
before he kills me.

Maybe that crackpot, Cardew,
has the last laugh in the end.

By loving me,

you made me out to be a
better thing altogether than I am.

So much so that then
the strange thought crossed my mind

that if you have illusions,

perhaps I have them too,

and perhaps you are less perfect
than I think you.

And when I had
stopped scolding myself

for the baseness of that idea,
I thought anyway,

my dearest and most adored Olivia,

while we can,
for as long as we can,

oh, let us believe.