American Playhouse (1981–…): Season 4, Episode 16 - The Europeans - full transcript

(film flicking)

(dramatic music)

(giggling)

(sighs)

- I'd hoped you were going to church.

I wanted to walk with you.

- I'm very obliged to you,

but I'm not going to church.

- Have you any special
reason for not going?

- Yes, Mr. Brand.

- May I ask what it is?



- Because the sky's so blue.

- I've heard of young
ladies staying at home

for bad weather, but never for good.

- I was very wicked just now to my sister.

I said things that puzzled her.

On purpose.

- You say things that puzzle me.

- I always know when I do it.

You asked me to tell you
about my, my struggles

- Yes, let's talk about them.

I have so many things to say.

- I think you'd better go to church now.

- You know I always have one thing to say.

- Please don't say it now.



- We are all alone.

All alone in this
beautiful Sunday stillness.

- Do me a favor and go to church.

- May I speak when I come back?

(birds chirping)

(gentle music)

(doorbell ringing)

(gentle music)

(knocks)

(gentle music)

- [Girl Voiceover] She beheld
the most beautiful youth

she had ever seen.

And as she softly kissed his
sleeping brow, she thought,

what a marvel of beauty he
must be when his eyes are open.

(gentle music)

- Would you kindly tell
me if I have the honor of

speaking to Miss Wentworth?

- My name is Gertrude Wentworth.

- Then I have the honor, the
pleasure of being your cousin.

I had a different plan.

I expected that the servant
would take in my card,

that you'd all put your heads
together and wonder who I was.

- I know, I know you come from Europe.

- Oh, you've heard us, then?

- We knew we had relations in France.

- [Cousin] Have you ever wanted to see us?

- Yes.

- We wanted to see you, so we came.

- On purpose?

- [Cousin] Well, yes, on purpose.

- Won't you come into the house?

(gentle music)

- I walked all the way from Boston.

I walked and I walked.

It's a good many miles.

- Seven and a half.

(gentle music)

- Are you all alone?

- Everyone has gone to church.

- You're not afraid of being
alone with me, are you?

What a very pleasant house.

I don't believe you know my name.

I'm Felix Young.

Your father is my uncle.

My mother was his half-sister.

- She turned Roman Catholic and
then went to live in Europe.

- Oh, you know.

She married, then she died.

Your father's family
didn't like her husband.

I was born in France,
and my sister in Vienna.

- So you're French?

- No, though I could easily
be French if you'd like.

I really am very hungry.

I'm not at all tired, but I'm very hungry.

- [Gertrude] Tell me about your sister.

- Eugenia?

She is the Baroness Munster.

- Why didn't she come, too?

- But she did.

She's in Boston, at the hotel.

- When will she come?

- As soon as you'll let her.

Tomorrow?

- Tomorrow, yes.

Is she, is she married?

- She's married to Prince Adolf

of Silberstadt-Schreckenstein.

- Silberstadt-Schleckenstein.

- Schreckenstein.

- Is she a princess?

- No, they made her a baroness.

That's all they could do.

Now they want to dissolve her marriage.

- Against her will?

- Against her right.

- She must be very unhappy.

I'm glad she's come to us.

This is the prince.

The Prince of Silverstadt-Schleckenstein.

- And the daughters, how
many of them are there?

- Two, Charlotte and Gertrude.

- [Eugenia] Are they pretty?

- [Felix] One of them.

- [Eugenia] Which one is that?

- [Felix] Charlotte.

- [Eugenia] So you're
in love with Gertrude.

And is there no one besides
the immediate family?

- Yes, there's a Mr. Robert Acton.

I think that you'll like Mr. Acton.

He's a man of the world.

He's been to China.

- A man of the Chinese world.

He sounds very interesting.

- I have an idea he
brought home a fortune.

- Ah, that's always interesting.

(gentle music)

- [Coachman] Whoa.

- Be very gracious.

(gentle music)

- Ah, I see you've arranged your house,

your beautiful house, in
the, in the Dutch taste.

- It's a very old house.

General Washington once spent a week here.

- Oh, I've heard of Washington.

My father used to adore him.

- This is my son, Clifford Wentworth.

- Why didn't you come out to meet me,

Mr. Clifford Wentworth?

- I didn't think you'd want me.

- One always wants a handsome cousin.

- This is my cousin, Mr. Robert Acton.

- Your cousin?

Not mine?

- Certainly yours, if you wish.

- Any may I also claim relationship

with this charming young lady.

- This is my sister, Lizzie.

- Now, this is quite another type.

This is a different outline, my uncle,

a different character, from
that of your own daughters.

- I didn't believe that you'd come back.

- Come back?

Why, what did you think
would become of me?

- I don't know.

I thought, I thought you might melt away.

- [Eugenia] The gentleman is, I suppose,

some sort of ecclesiastic?

- [Wentworth] He is a minister.

- [Eugenia] A Protestant.

- I'm a Unitarian, madam.

- Ah, I see, something new.

(chuckling)

- [Wentworth] You've come very far.

- Very far.

Very, far.

I came to, to look, to ask...

To try...

I'm very tired.

I want to rest.

I, I should like to stay here.

Will you take me in?

- [Wentworth] My dear niece.

- Cousin William, do you want
to do something handsome?

Make them a present for
three or four months

of the other house over the way.

- Oh, Father, do let them.

It would be very interesting.

It would be a new place to go to.

It would be a foreign house.

- Are we very sure that
we need a foreign house?

(chuckles)

- You talk as if it were a
question of the poor baroness

opening a wine shop or a gaming table.

- It would be lovely.

- You should be careful.

You should watch.

We must all be careful.

This is a great change.

We're to be exposed to
peculiar influences.

I don't say they're bad.

I don't judge them in advance,

but we should employ
a great deal of wisdom

and self-control.

- She'll have a boudoir.

And she'll invite us to dinner very late.

She'll have breakfast in her room.

- I want you to make
me a promise, Gertrude.

- What is it?

- Not to get, excited.

- I don't think I can
promise you that, Father.

I'm excited already.

- I think they'd better
go to the other house.

- I shall keep them in the other house.

(speaking foreign language)

- I don't think she likes
us to drop in uninvited.

- Why do you think that?

- Because of what she
said about our house being

like an inn, with people dropping
in and out of it all day.

- But she said that was charming.

- But she meant just the reverse.

(gentle music)

- I only wish she'd speak in French.

It would seem more in keeping.

- Mm.

What I'd like to know
is just what the devil

has brought her here.

(gentle music)

- I think if you move back a little

you might get the sun.

Sit down.

Now keep your chin up.

- Do you find us good company?

- Company for a king.

- There must be a thousand
different ways to be dreary.

And sometimes I think
we make use of them all.

Father.

Father, Felix has a great deal of talent.

- No, no, nothing at all remarkable.

The world will never hear about me.

I'm little more than a
featherhead, a sort of Bohemian,

a species of adventurer.

No, at bottom, I really
a terrible philistine.

I mean, that is to say,
a plain, God-fearing man.

I trust I shall enjoy a
venerable and venerated old age.

- It's natural that one should desire

to prolong an agreeable life.

- Sir, I would very much
like to do your head.

It's very interesting.

It's medieval.

- The Lord made it.

I don't think it's for a
man to make it over again.

- I could do it as a
prelate or an old cardinal

or the prior of an order.

- Cardinal?

Prelate?

Do you refer to the Roman
Catholic priesthood?

- Oh.

Well, I could do you
as an old ecclesiastic

who's lived a very pure
and abstinent life.

I take that is the case with you, sir.

I can see it your face.

You have been very moderate.

Don't you think one can always
see that in a man's face?

- You see more in a man's face than

I should think of looking for.

I think sitting for one's portrait

is only one of the
various forms of idleness.

Their name is legion.

(birds chirping)

(water lapping)

- I'm sure you find it very strange

that I should come to
this part of the world.

I am certain you're
wondering about my motives.

They're very pure.

- No, I don't find it at all strange

that a clever woman
should turn up in Boston.

Or its suburbs.

It's a very fine place.

Especially at this moment.

- It was precisely not to
hear such things that I came.

I longed to come into
those natural relations

I knew I should find here.

Over there, I had only,
um, artificial relations.

Do you see the difference?

- I suppose I'm an artificial relation.

Well, there's one way in which a lady

and a gentleman may easily become natural.

- Yes?

But (speaking foreign language).

Oh, do you understand French?

- A little.

(birds chirping)

(water lapping)

- You are very beautiful.

I didn't think you were at first

but you come to seem more
so, little by little.

(dramatic music)

You seem so different from
your father and your sister

and from most of the
people you've lived with.

- They say themselves that I am different.

It makes them unhappy.

Many things make them unhappy.

- Yes, that's what strikes me.

I mean, they don't get
the pleasure out of life

that they might.

Do you mind me saying this?

- To me you can say anything.

I don't believe you've
seen people like us.

- How do you know what I've seen?

How can I tell you?

- You might tell me a great
many things, if only you would.

- What?

- Everything.

- Now, if you can only keep that look

until tomorrow's sitting.

- Goodbye.

- Au revoir.

(birds chirping)

- Gertrude.

Gertrude.

You're very much preoccupied.

You have new interests.

I love you, Gertrude.

I love you very much.

I love you more than...

You've let me feel that I
have an influence over you.

You've opened your mind to me.

- I've never opened my
mind to you, Mr. Brand.

- Then you weren't as frank as I thought.

As we all thought.

- I don't see what anyone
else had to do with it.

- I mean your father and your sister.

You know it makes them happy
to think you'll listen to me.

- Nothing make them happy.

- You're very much changed.

- I'm glad to hear it.

- I'm not.

I've known you a long time,
and I've loved you as you were.

May I walk back with you?

- I'm not going back, Mr. Brand.

(birds chirping)

(orchestral music)

- There are some aunts in there.

I'll take you to meet them.

- Must I sit in there?

I see you think it is my natural place.

- Would you like to dance, then?

(orchestral music)

- They're very energetic, aren't they?

(orchestral music)

- She doesn't like this
sort of dance, either.

(orchestral music)

- Perhaps you'd like to meet Mother now.

- That would be delightful.

(orchestral music)

- You Americans are very strange.

You never ask anything outright.

- We Americans are very polite.

We don't like to tread upon people's toes.

- I should think you'd want
to know about my marriage.

- Yes, I should like that very much.

- The prince fell in love with me.

I was very young and, I
confess, rather flattered.

I was living with an old countess,

a friend of my father's in Dresden.

She encouraged the prince.

I was very young.

- Lizzie.

- I congratulate your
brother on his treasures.

- I dust them every day.

Don't I?

With my own hands.

- You must be the perfect
little household fairy.

- Sometimes I feel like
dropping one of them.

- Lizzie.

- I'll just go and see if Mother's ready.

- Yes, you do that.

- Is she very critical?

- She looks down her nose at everybody.

Like this.

- Perhaps I should have my lace cap.

- [Lizzie] She likes Robert, though.

- I have a little document
in my writing desk

which I have only to sign
and send back to the prince.

- Then your marriage will be over?

- Of course, I shall keep my title.

One must have a name.

And I'll keep my pension.

Very small.

It's wretchedly small,
but it is what I live on.

- And you only have to sign that paper?

- Do you urge it?

- Mother will see you now.

- If you go away, I shall
never see you again.

- I shall write to you.

- Don't, I won't answer you.

- Oh, but you can, you know.

I'm very discreet, I'll burn your letters.

- Burn my letters?

You do say strange things.

- I've tried very hard.

I've explained, I've reasoned, but...

Reason does not always
penetrate as deeply as

some other emotions.

- Gertrude has learned
a great deal from you.

We all have.

- I've sometimes wished that Miss Gertrude

had some share of your
soundness, your sense,

your very fine understanding,
Miss Charlotte.

- I'll keep your letters.

- I never write.

I don't know how to.

(footsteps clattering)

- Your sister's not indifferent
to her clever companion.

- She has the highest
opinion of Mr. Brand.

Well, she's not in love with him.

She wants him to marry me.

- But why did you never
tell me this before?

- I don't like to speak about it.

- You don't want to marry Mr. Brand, then?

- No.

- But your father and your
sister think that you ought to.

- I shall never marry Mr. Brand.

- [Felix] If he would address
himself to your sister

I'm sure she'd listen to him.

- [Gertrude] Oh, Felix.

- [Felix] Well, why shouldn't they marry?

Try to make them marry.

- [Gertrude] Well, I believe
she does care for him.

- We'll marry them off.

That will make them happy.

It will make everybody happy.

- It would make me happy.

- To be rid of Mr. Brand.

- Shh!

- To see my sister
married to so good a man.

- What a delightful retreat.

I must admit, I've fallen quite in love

with your American arrangements.

Everything is so tremendously

natural, primitive, patriarchal.

Even your domestics have an
air of style of their own.

- That is Hattie.

- Yes, I'd love to have one for myself,

but I brought my own
maid with me from Paris.

- There was a French maid in the play

that Robert took me to see.

She wore pink stockings.

I suppose your maid's too
old to wear pink stockings.

She must've been with you for ages.

- Lizzie.

(laughing)

- [Mr. Wentworth] I regret to
say that Clifford has a vice.

- You mean that he drinks?

I quite agree.

That is a low taste.

Not a vice for a gentleman.

- Mr. Brand has undertaken to help him.

- Ah, Mr. Brand.

Yes, he is an excellent influence.

But perhaps Clifford ought to cultivate

the society of some agreeable woman.

A clever, agreeable woman
who would give him a sense

of how very ridiculous
it is to be fuddled.

- What lady would you suggest?

- There's a clever woman under your hand.

My sister.

- Your sister under my hand?

- I have my heart set on having a cook.

I must have a cook.

An old Negress in a yellow turban.

I want to look out of the window

and see her sitting there under

the crooked little apple tree,

pulling the husks off a
lapful of Indian corn.

Now that would be local color, you know?

I fear I'm tiring your mother.

- I haven't been used to a great deal

of conversation lately.

- I see you live a life of
the most exquisite retirement

with your flowers, your book.

- It was Mr. Emerson.

He is so very, improving.

- You don't need much improving, Mother.

- No, it is the rest of us who need that.

- We have always been very quiet.

- I fear I must tire you no further.

Thank you again for allowing me to come.

I must go.

- Why?

What has happened?

- I would like to leave.

- Please tell me why.

- I feel, out of tune.

- I hope not out of temper.

- No, no, no, no.

Out of tune.

I seem too loud.

- Robert, Mother wants you.

- [Robert] I'm coming directly.

- I like your mother very much.

- I'm sure she likes you.

As she said, we've always been very quiet.

- Yes, that's what I want now.

- Ah, yes.

The quiet.

- Robert?

- Yes, coming.

Excuse me a moment.

- I've almost decided
to dispatch that letter.

- Well, when you have in fact done so,

I hope you'll let me know.

- Say a word to Clifford.

Give him a hint to come and see her.

To come often.

Tell him to be bold.

- Do I understand that I
am to suggest to my son

to make a profession of
affection to Madam Munster?

- Yes, yes, a profession.

- But as I understand it, Madam
Munster is a married woman.

- Oh, but of course she can't marry him.

But she will do what she can.

- I don't think I can undertake

to recommend my son any such course.

- Would you call a
carriage for me, please?

- Oh, but the fun is only just starting.

- I have a migraine, a headache.

- Edward?

(carriage door bangs)

Are you sure you wanna go home?

- What can you say to make me stay?

- We're having ice cream.

- You may eat my share.

(laughing)

- Encourage Clifford to come and see you.

His tastes at the present
are somewhat vulgar.

- You mean he gets tipsy?

- Inspire him with a
taste for conversation.

And even if he should in the process

fall in love with you, it doesn't matter.

- I am to offer myself as a
superior form of intoxication?

A substitute for the brandy bottle, eh?

Truly in this country,
one comes to strange uses.

- It's unbecoming for Clifford to drink.

After all, he will be, one day,

the principal gentleman
in this neighborhood.

- Yes, he and Mr. Acton.

Are you, by any chance,

offering me a second string to my bow?

- But alas, self-interest,
sensuality and passion struggle

together in the human breast.

There is a wilderness to be
subdued and made fruitful,

tempests of passion to be calmed,

luxuriance of sensuality to be loved.

All the benefits of a
useful education may be lost

by acquaintance with
companions of bad habits.

Such is the natural propensity of evil.

So great is the vivacity, the curiosity,

the love of novelty and the
want of caution at a tender age.

So lively is the sympathy,
so active the spirit

of imitation, that even
occasional intercourse

with dangerous companions will seldom fail

to be highly injurious.

I once was for several weeks
with a foreigner of very fair

natural abilities, but never
subjected to the disciplines

of early study, who would often arrive

at his own conclusions by a kind of jump.

In giving you an account
of any piece of history...

- [Gertrude Voiceover] And
when my heart doth upward soar

to fly and float aloft

and then looks down and sees on Earth

the spire of our stony church

fears to be impaled there.

- Lively and sometimes to the purpose,

but produced by a sort
of theatrical exhibition

and not by a narration
of consecutive facts.

Let then the schoolteacher
make a point of accustoming

his pupils to reason and regularity,

and especially his pupils
of the female gender,

whose natural volatility
most needs this discipline.

(gentle music)

- [Brand Voiceover] I've sometimes
wished that Miss Gertrude

had some share of your
soundness, your sense,

your very fine understanding,
Miss Charlotte.

(gentle music)

- Think of all that we owe Mr. Brand.

He's helped you so.

He's helped you struggle
with your, peculiarities.

You told me that he taught
you how to govern your temper.

- I wanna be wicked again.

Charlotte, you're in love with him.

I wish he'd marry you.

- This is very cruel of you.

- Not if it's true.

I do wish he'd marry you.

- You mustn't say things like that.

- I mean to tell him so.

- Gertrude!

- If he speaks to me again
about myself, I shall say,

why don't you marry Charlotte?

She's a thousand times better than I.

- You are wicked!

You are changed!

(door bangs)

- You make yourself out worse
than you are to please him.

He doesn't care for
the things we care for,

for the great questions of life.

- Neither do I!

I've been pretending all this time.

I've been dishonest.

It's pleasure that I care for.

Pleasure and amusement.

- Gertrude.

Gertrude!

Am I really losing you?

- Charlotte cares for the
great questions of life,

Mr. Brand.

(footsteps)
(gate creaking)

- When will they be back?

- In a week.

- Do you think she'll miss him?

Don't you like her?

She thinks that you are the
most charming girl in the world.

- When did she tell you that?

(laughing)

Anyway, she doesn't.

- You think everything
she says is to be taken

the opposite way?

- Yeah, I think that is.

- Goodbye, Lizzie.

Bye.

- Goodbye, Robert.

(gentle music)

Is this the prince?

Mount Vesuvius.

- Yes, you must go to
Europe and make the tour.

- I know some fellas who've been.

They say you can have better fun here.

- Your friends probably
weren't introduced.

They had no opportunity
of going into society.

They formed no relations.

- Well, they went to a ball in Paris.

I know that.

- No, you must go.

You need it for your manners.

- I haven't got any.

- Precisely.

You must go to Europe and get a few.

(gentle music)

You must remember, there
is no agreeable man

who hasn't been to
school to a clever woman.

Usually a little older than himself.

Trust me, Clifford.

(chuckles)

Laugh out.

Laugh out if I amuse you.

I'm here for that.

(chuckles)

Are you seriously making love
to your little cousin Lizzie?

Those things ought to be known.

- I don't care if it's known or not,

but I don't want people looking at me.

- A young man of your
importance ought to learn

to be looked at.

And don't tell me you're not
a young man of importance.

- Oh, no, you don't catch me saying that.

- You must come to Europe.

You'll be talked about,
of course, with me.

It will be said that you're my lover.

I'll show you how little
one may mind that.

How little I shall mind it.

- I'd mind it a good deal.

- Not too much, you know.

That would be uncivil.

(hooves clattering)

(piano music)

What is it?

- I thought I heard someone.

- Who is it?

- No one, I made a mistake.

- Why are you so nervous?

- I'm not.

- Your father doesn't
like you coming here.

- I thought it was Robert Acton.

- Oh, yes, of course.

He's expected back tonight.

You never answered my question
about his little sister,

what's-her-name.

If one is arranging a marriage, you know,

one ought to tell one's friends.

- I'm not arranging anything.

- Then you don't intend
to marry your cousin?

- Well, I expect I'll do as I choose.

(doorbell ringing)

- Oh, you're back, Bob.

- Aye, half an hour ago.

Where are all your companions?

- Charlotte's with Mr.
Brand in the parlor.

Gertrude is, for the hundredth time,

doing the honors of the
house to her foreign cousin.

- And Clifford?

- He is, I suppose, calling
on the other foreign cousin.

- Hasn't the baroness
been to visit you today?

- The baroness has not
honored us for three days.

- [Robert] Why?

Is she ill?

- No, I went to see her.

- [Robert] What's the matter with her?

- I infer she's tired of us.

- It's late.

- [Wentworth] You going home?

- I think I'll go and take
a look at the baroness.

- If we ever had any virtue among us,

we'd better keep hold of it now.

- Your cousin Miss Acton is very charming.

- She's the prettiest girl in this place.

- I'm afraid you're entangled.

- I'm not entangled.

(gate creaks)

- Are you engaged?

What's the matter?

- There is someone.

- Oh, it's Robert.

Come, come quickly.

No, no, no!

This way.

Your hat!

(door thuds)

(piano music)

(tapping)

I don't think I ought
to tell you to sit down.

It's too late to begin a visit.

- It's too early to end one.

I went first to the big house.

I expected to find you there.

- No, I haven't been to the big house.

- Not yesterday, nor the day before, eh?

- Oh, I don't know how
many days it's been.

- You're tired of us.

I expected something of the kind.

- [Eugenia] I hope you
enjoyed your journey.

- I'd much rather have been here with you.

I never get tired of people I like.

- But you're not a poor,
wicked foreign woman

with irritable nerves.

- Something's happened
to you since I went away.

(thudding)

If you're bored, you
needn't be afraid to say so.

To me, at least.

(piano music)

I know we've made you lead
a very dull life here.

(banging)

Is someone there?

- No, no, no, it's only my maid.

She always chooses the middle of the night

to arrange her things.

It's one of those odd French habits.

- You know that document
you were to send to Germany?

You call it your renunciation.

Did you ever send it?

- Why do you ask me that now?

- I've wanted to ask you many times.

I thought you might tell me yourself.

- I think I've told you too much.

- I wish you'd ask something of me.

Isn't there anything I can do for you?

If you can't stand this dull
life anymore, let me amuse you.

- [Eugenia] You're very strange tonight.

- [Robert] Would you like to travel about,

see something of the country?

Won't you go to Niagara?

You should see Niagara, you know.

- [Eugenia] With you, do you mean?

- [Robert] Well, I'd be
delighted to take you.

- You alone?

- [Robert] Well, yes, we might go alone.

- I think I ought to feel insulted.

- You'd much better
come to Niagara with me.

- Is that the extent of
what you're offering me?

- Have you sent that document to Germany?

(door clatters)

- He was in Felix's studio.

He wanted to see some of his sketches.

- You didn't have much light in there.

- I didn't have any.

- Oh, your candle went out, eh?

- I didn't have a candle.

You didn't give me any.

- You had much better go home.

Good night.

Good night.

- What's the matter with him?

He seemed rather muddled.

Was he, uh, do you think?

- Oh, he doesn't drink anymore.

I've cured him of that.

And in return, he's in love with me.

(laughing)

He wasn't in the studio.

I invented that at the moment.

He has an idea of being romantic.

He's adopted the habit
of coming to see me.

At midnight.

Stealing in by the back way.

It seems to amuse him.

- They're still sitting
up at the big house.

You can see the lights.

- Ah, at the big house.

I don't know what they do up there.

I'm a quiet little humdrum woman.

So good night.

- Good night, Eugenia.

- [Clifford] She said the
younger one begins, the better.

(laughing)

- [Lizzie] And what did she mean by that?

- [Clifford] She called
me a dear young Puritan

and said not to be afraid.

She wants to introduce me to
her circle of charming friends.

- [Lizzie] And just what is
her circle of charming friends?

(nose blowing)

- Catch a cold?

What were doing at Madam
Munster's last night?

- Well, what did she tell you?

I'd want to tell you the same.

I thought you were my father.

- So you ran away?

- 'Cause she told me to.

But I felt ashamed to be hiding away

in the dark like a coward so I came back.

It was a surprise to see you.

But Eugenia carried it off, didn't she?

- Beautifully.

- What was her story?

- She said that she couldn't imagine

what had got into you

that you appeared to have
taken a violent dislike to her.

- What?

- And that whenever you come to the house,

all you do is lock yourself
up in Felix's studio

and look at his sketches.

- Oh go, oh.

- What?

It's not true?

- What do you think?

- Well, the baroness wouldn't tell a lie.

- Wouldn't she?

- Have you ever known
her to tell an untruth?

- Yes, lots of them.

She knew it wasn't Father coming in.

She knew it was you.

She knows everything.

- Are you, by any chance
the least bit sweet on her?

- No, sir!

(organ music)
(rain splattering)

- I have a very bad conscience.

We oughtn't to be together this way,

not until I've got your father's consent.

- I don't understand you.

- You very often say that.

Considering how little
we understand each other,

it's a wonder we get on so well.

- We've been alone together
ever since you came.

The first time I ever
saw you, we were alone.

Why is it different now?

Is it because everyone's at church?

- The difference is, Gertrude...

The difference is I love you more.

More and more.

(gentle music)

- Oh, (speaking foreign
language) what a climate.

(bell tinkling)

Oh, Christine.

- Oui, madame.

- It appears no one will
be calling on us today.

(doorbell ringing)

- Were you expecting someone?

- Whom should I be
expecting in this place?

What expectations could there be?

I hope you don't think I'm reduced

to waiting for a Mr. Robert Acton.

How long do you propose to
remain in this lovely spot?

- Why?

You don't want to go away already?

- Already is delicious.

Do you intend to spend
the rest of your life

making love to Gertrude Wentworth?

- Yes.

Unfortunately, her father
wants her to marry Mr. Brand.

- I know nothing about it.

Please do put on a log.

I think you're the most
heartless person living.

Don't you see that I'm in trouble?

Robert Acton wants to marry me.

Don't you believe me?

- Why does it make you unhappy?

- Because I can't decide.

- Accept him.

Accept him.

- He's immensely in love with me.

(dramatic music)

- There's a party at the
Barretts' next Saturday.

- Well, I'm sure you'll be one
of the principal ornaments.

- Everyone's tired of seeing
me in my same old blue

or my green.

Miss Koffen has some pretty new patterns

no one else has seen.

- Then you better hurry before they do.

- She promised not to show them
till I've had first choice.

- Will that do?

- There's a bonnet, too.

What's this?

- It's a present for someone.

- Who?

I hope you're not giving gifts
to that baroness, Robert.

You're not in love with her?

- I don't know.

- That means you're not.

- I like to be with her.

I think of her a great deal.

But if this is love, it's overrated.

- No, it's not.

Wouldn't you like to get married?

To someone really nice?

- That's what I'm trying to decide.

- I'll find her for you.

The prettiest, the best
girl in all this place.

- That's you.

- I mean second to me.

- It's for you.

I bought it for you.

- Thank you, Robert.

- I want to go.

I have to.

- Go where?

- Did you know that Felix was an actor

with a troupe of strolling players?

They went everywhere
and played Shakespeare.

They went to France and Poland and Italy.

I can't endure it.

I think I wish to scream.

(muffled screaming)

- [Felix] Have you been preaching

one of your beautiful sermons?

- Did you bring me over
here for the purpose

of making that inquiry?

- No, no, not for that, no.

I wanted to tell you something.

Only, as it's rather private,

I thought perhaps we
might go into my studio.

It's very delicate, what I want to say.

- Please to say it as quickly as possible.

- It's only because you're
a clergyman, you know.

I don't think I'd venture
to say it to a common man.

- If it's a question
of resenting an injury,

I'm afraid I'm a very common man indeed.

- Both my sister and I
have taken a great fancy

to our cousin Charlotte.

- [Brand] Cousin Charlotte?

- We fell in love with her from the first.

- You fell in love with Charlotte?

- Well, she's a very charming person.

But she's not happy, Mr. Brand.

She's not happy.

Charlotte is in love.

- With you?

- She's in love with you.

- Is that what you wanted to say to me?

- Well, I told you it was very delicate.

Don't let her languish.

I congratulate you.

- It's in your interests.

You've interfered with me.

- I won't pretend I
don't know what you mean.

But with one person, you've lost nothing.

And think of what you've
gained with another.

- It seems to me that I'm the
proper judge on both sides.

Good day.

- Look.

My dear cousin.

Charlotte, I want you to help me.

- Help you?

- I mean, with your father
and with the world in general.

Including Mr. Brand.

- Poor Mr. Brand.

- No, don't say poor Mr. Brand.

Well, I don't pity him at all.

Well, it ought to be enough for any man

that you take an interest in him.

Oh, Charlotte, take pity on me.

Say a good word about me to your father.

Because...

Well, because I'm terribly
in love with your sister.

In love, Charlotte!

In love!

- There is no great hope that
we shall any of us advance

much till we make religion
a matter of business.

- Father--

- Character is no dead capital.

It bears interest.

Like the pound in the
parable, it gains 10 pounds.

- Father, I have...

- As it multiplies more,
like an immense property,

it makes incalculable increase.

- Father, I have something
to say to you about Gertrude.

(knocking)

(gasps)

- I ought to have brought a bouquet.

In France, they always do.

- We are not in France.

- Dear Uncle, I desire very earnestly

to marry your daughter Gertrude.

Ah, you don't like it.

I was afraid...

Well, I know I'm not the sort of man

you might have looked for.

I have no position and no fortune.

I can give Gertrude no place in the world.

She'll be hiding her light under a bushel.

I being the bushel.

Now, I know that you like me.

Well, you've shown that.

But you think I'm frivolous,
penniless and shabby.

Well, granted, granted, granted,
a thousand times granted.

I've been a loose fish.

I've been a fiddler, a painter, an actor.

I've been a Bohemian.

But in Bohemia, I always
pass for a gentleman.

Now I find I can earn a
living, a very fair one,

from going about the world
and painting bad portraits.

Gertrude declares she's
willing to share my wanderings

and help to pose my models.

Well, that brings me to my
third point, Gertrude likes me.

Encourage her a little,
and she'd tell you so.

We've been talking about you.

- I know it, that's why I came.

- It is better you should be present.

We were discussing your future.

- Well, you've never had
any confidence in me.

Never!

I don't know why.

- I have never seen you so passionate.

You have not profited as we had hoped.

- I have profited.

You wanted to form my
character, well it's formed.

I know what I want, I've chosen.

I'm determined to marry this gentleman.

- Come in, sir.

You should be here.

- You had better consent, sir.

- I'm not sure that I understand.

- Mr. Brand asks you to
let Felix take me away.

- Isn't this rather a change, sir?

- Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

- Where are our moral grounds?

- I should like, in my
ministerial capacity,

to unite this young couple.

- Oh, that's very beautiful
of you, Mr. Brand.

- I should like to marry you.

It would give me great pleasure.

- That is very nice and very handsome.

- Father, consent.

- I consent, since Mr.
Brand recommends it.

- They tell me you were
so comfortable here,

that you've got such a
beautiful little house.

And my son is so fond of going to see you.

I'm afraid my son will miss you.

- Ah, dear madame, I can't
stay in America for your son.

- Well, I, I want to see my
children cheerful and happy.

My daughter will probably
marry her cousin.

- Two such interesting young people.

- You seem to me all so
happy here, just as you are.

So I wish you would stay.

It would, it would be
so pleasant for Robert.

- Goodbye, dear madame.

I must remember your strength is precious.

- Oh, you have been
happy here, haven't you?

And you like us, don't you?

So I wish you'd stay in
your beautiful little house.

- Yes, my house is beautiful,

though not to be compared with yours.

Goodbye, madame.

(gentle music)

(whispering)

(speaking foreign language)

(gentle music)

(door bangs)

He wasn't in Felix's studio.

I invented that at the moment.

He has an idea of being romantic.

He's adopted the habit of
coming to see me at midnight,

stealing in by the back way.

(chuckles)

- Excuse my ridiculous position.

I was, uh, thinking of you.

- The occupation of extreme leisure.

- No, I'm delighted, I'm honored.

Won't you come into the house?

- I've just come out of it.

I've been calling on your mother.

Bidding her farewell.

I'm going away.

- When?

- As soon as possible.

Why haven't you been to see me?

- Must you go straight home?

- Why don't you answer my question?

- Let me walk with you.

- Do as you like.

- If you really are going
away, it's very serious.

Why are you going?

I, uh, had hoped you would stay.

I asked you a question the other night

but you haven't answered.

Have you sent off that
document to Germany?

- Yes.

- What could I say to keep you?

- Tell me a reason why I should stay.

- We all admire you so.

- That's no reason.

I'm admired also in Europe.

(gate creaking)

I will see you in Europe.

- In Europe.

- It is the continent for
really superior women.

We are appreciated there.

You must wear this to the opera in Paris.

- Shall we go often to the opera?

- Yes, to the opera very often.

- We had hoped that
your brother's marriage

might detain you.

- I think I've grown
rather tired of marriages.

- Well, since you are
determined to leave us,

may I have one last request?

I would like to put my carriage

at your disposal for your departure.

It would give me great pleasure.

- It gives me even greater pleasure

to accept your kind proposal.

Thank you, Mr. Acton.

(gentle music)

(piano cover thuds)

- The path of the railroad
runs through rocks and hills,

just so must...

- Must the path.

- Just so must the path of salvation

cleave its way through the
wilderness of our passions

and to awaken, to stir up
another soul to this necessity.

That, that is a...

- [Both] Nobler exertion, a higher power,

a greater ambition than seasons.

(gentle dramatic music)