Women In Love Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Women In Love script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Ken Russell movie based on the D.H. Lawrence novel.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Women In Love. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Women In Love Script





-Hello, Mom.

-Oh, you!



We're going to see that wedding.



But you haven't been home five minutes.



You don't have a wedding every day,

do you?



Now look, Gudrun,

your Aunt Jessie's coming to lunch.



You haven't seen her for two years.

Now, why don't you stay?



Two more days won't make

much difference, will it? Come on.



lt's a Crich wedding, Mom.






Do you really not want to get married?



-l don't know. lt depends how you mean.

-lt usually means one thing.



Wouldn't you be in a better position

if you were married?



l might be. l'm not sure, really.



You don't think one needs the experience

of having been married?



Gudrun, do you really think

it need be an experience?



lt's bound to be possibly undesirable,

but still an experience of some sort.



Not really.

More likely to be the end of experience.



-Good morning, Miss Brangwen.

-Good morning.



Yes, of course, there is that to consider.



Hurry, Tibby, for God's sake.

Now we are latei



Here, got it?



Gerald will never forgive me.




-Gerald will blame me for this.



Get upi



-Where's Birkin?

-With the groom. He's late.



Whoa, there. Steady.



Hello, Gerald.







-What a charming dressi

-Thank you.



Good morning, Christiana.



lt's such bad form for the groom to be late.

Gerald'll be furious.



Don't worry about that. Something

unconventional will do that family good.



Laura won't run away.

lf you're late, you're late.






Hello, Laura.






What a spectaclei



Does it hurt your sense of family pride?



Yes, it does. Do something properly,

or don't bother at all.



lt's a masterpiece of good form.



lt's the hardest thing to act spontaneously

on one's impulses.



lt's the only gentlemanly thing to do,

provided you're fit enough.



You expect me to take you seriously?



Yes, you're one of the few people

l do expect that of.



-Hello, Hermione.

-What made you late?



The groom talked about

the immortality of the soul...



and he hadn't got a buttonhook.



The immortality of the soul?



More appropriate for an execution,

l should have thought, than for a wedding.



Perhaps it would be nice

if a man came along.



l mean,

l wouldn't go out of my way to look for him.



But if there should happen along

a highly attractive individual...



with sufficient means....



Don't you find yourself

getting bored with everything?



Everything fails to materialize.



Nothing materializes.



Everything withers in the bud. Everything.






Do you hope to get anywhere

by just marrying?



Well, it seems the inevitable next step.



But you see...



it's just impossible.



The man makes it impossible.



Now, sometimes,

catkins are called lamb's tails.



Don't you think they look rather like them?



So lovely and tiny...



and soft?



Sorry. Did l startle you?

l thought you'd heard me come in.






You're doing catkins.



Are they as far out as this already?

l hadn't noticed them this year.



Emphasize the facts, not the impression.



And what's the fact?



Red, little, spiky stigmas

of the female flower...



dangling, yellow male catkin...



yellow pollen flying from one to the other.



Make a pictorial record of the fact...



as you do when you're drawing a face.



Two eyes, a nose, mouth with teeth.



l've been waiting for you for so long.



l thought l'd come and see...



what a school inspector does

when he's on duty.



How do you do, Miss Brangwen?

Do you mind my coming in?






You sure?



What are you doing?









What do you learn about them?



Well, from these little red bits,

the nuts come...



if they receive pollen

from these long danglers.



Little red flames.



Little red flames, aren't they beautiful?



l think they're so beautiful.



-You never noticed them before?

-No, never before.



Well, now you'll always see them.



Now l shall always see them.



Thank you so much for showing me.



l think they're so beautiful.



Little red flames.



Fancy her barging into your classroom

like that. What a libertyi



Hermione loves to dominate everyone.



She'd like to dominate us, l think.



So that's why she's invited us

for the weekend.









lt's Gerald Crich.



l know.



So, Gerald's in charge of the mines now.



Making all kinds of latest improvements.

They hate him for it.



He takes them by the scruff of the neck,

and fairly flings them along.



He'll have to die soon, when he's

made all the possible improvements...



and there's nothing more to improve.



-He's got go anyhow.

-Certainly he's got go.



The unfortunate thing is,

where does his go go to?






All this strife and dissension.



lf we could only realize that...



in the spirit, we are all one,

all equal in the spirit.



All brothers there.



The rest wouldn't matter.



There'd be no more of this carping, envy...



all this struggle for power, which destroys...



only destroys.



lt's just the opposite, Hermione,

just the contrary.



The minute you begin to compare,

one man becomes far better than another.



All the inequality in the world

that you can imagine is there by nature.



l want every man to have his fair share

of the world's goods...



so l can be rid of his importunity,

so that l can say to him:



''Now you've got what you want,

your fair share of the world's gear.



''Now, you mind yourself,

and don't obstruct me.''



lt sounds like megalomania, Rupert.



l must go and dress for lunch.



Don't be late, Rupert.



So this is Hermione's country cottage.



Well, there's one reason

Rupert's attracted to her.



Do you think so? l don't think that.



Lovers have sold their souls for far less,

my dear.



At least here, you will have

an opportunity to observe nature.



Gudrun Brangwen.



Gerald Crich.



Tibby and Laura Lupton.



Ursula Brangwen.



Rupert Birkin.



What peculiar names we all have.

Do you think we've been singled out...



chosen for some

extraordinary moment in life...



or are we all cursed with the mark of Cain?



l'm afraid Ursula was a martyred saint.



lt's been rather difficult to live up to.



And who is Gudrun?



ln a Norse myth...



Gudrun was a sinner

who murdered her husband.



Will you live up to that?



Which would you prefer me to live up to,

the sinner or the murderer?



l see the perpetual struggle has begun.



We all struggle so, don't we?



The proper way to eat a fig in society...



is to split it in four...



holding it by the stump...



and open it...



so that it is a glittering, rosy, moist...



honeyed, heavy-petaled, four-petaled flower.



Then you throw away the skin...



after you have taken off the blossom

with your lips.



But the vulgar way...



is just to put your mouth to the crack...



and take out the flesh in one bite.



The fig is a very secretive fruit.



The ltalians vulgarly say

it stands for the female part, the fig fruit.



The fissure, the yoni...



the wonderful moist conductivity

towards the center...



involved, inturned....



One small way of access only,

and this close-curtained from the light.



Sap that smells strange on your fingers,

so that even goats won't taste it.



And when the fig has kept her secret

long enough...



so it explodes, and you see,

through the fissure, the scarlet.



And the fig is finished, the year is over.



That's how the fig dies...



showing her crimson

through the purple slit.



Like a wound...



the exposure of her secret on the open day.



Like a prostitute,

the bursten fig makes a show of her secret.



That's how women die, too.



Would you like to come for a walk?



Would you like to come for a walk?

The dahlias are so pretty.



Shall we, Gudrun?



Will you come for a walk, Rupert?



-No, Hermione.

-Are you sure?



-Quite sure.

-And why not?



-Because l don't like trooping off in a gang.

-But the dahlias are so pretty.



l've seen them.



Then we'll leave a little boy behind,

if he's sulky.






-Goodbye, little boyi




-May we ask if they grow figs at Breadalby?

-lmpudent hag.



Have you ever really loved anybody?



Yes and no.



But not finally?



Finally, no.



Nor l.



Do you want to?



l don't know.



l do.



l want the finality of love.



Just one woman?



Just one woman.



l don't believe a woman...



and nothing but a woman...



-will ever make my life.

-You don't?



Then what do you live for?



l suppose l live for my work.



And other than that, l live...



because l'm living.



l find...



that one needs one single pure activity.



l would call love a single pure activity.



But l don't really love anybody, not now.



You mean that...



if there isn't a woman...



then there's nothing?



More or less that...



seeing there's no God.



Rupert, what is it you really want?



l want...



to sit with my beloved in a field...



with daisies growing all around us.



We have devised an entertainment for you...



in the style of the Russian ballet.



Who are those Brangwen girls?



Teachers in the grammar school.

Gudrun pretends she's an artist as well.



-What's their father?

-Handicrafts instructor in the same school.






Class barriers are breaking down.



That their father teaches handcraft

in school doesn't matter to me.



l shall be Orpah...



a vivid, sensational widow.



l am only just a widow...



and l slowly dance

the death of my husband...



before returning to my former life.



And Gudrun will be the beautiful Ruth.



Her husband, too, has just now died.



She weeps with me, and laments.



And Ursula...



will be the mother-in-law, Naomi.



Our husbands were her sons.



Her own husband died years ago.



Thus, all her men are dead.



She stands alone, demanding nothing.



And the contessa will be the wheat fields...



rippling in the evening air.



Birkin will turn the pages for the maestro.












l can't do it.



Little tarti






Hey, where are you going?







l'm sorry if l...



spoiled your dance.



lt was an act of pure spontaneity.



My arse.



You can't bear anything

to be spontaneous, can you?



Because then it's no longer in your power.



You must clutch things

and have them in your power.



And why?

Because you haven't got any real body...



any dark, sensual body of lifei



All you've got is your will

and your lust for poweri



How can you...



not think me sensual?



All you want is pornography.



Looking at yourself in mirrors...



watching your naked

animal actions in mirrors.



Keeping it all in your consciousness,

making it all mental.



lf one cracked your skull...



maybe one could get a spontaneous,

passionate woman out of you...



with real sensuality.



No, you don't, Hermione. l don't let you.



I shall not cease



from mental fight



Nor shall my sword



sleep in my hand



Till we have built






In England's green and pleasant land



And Jesus Christ our Lord hath said,

''Greater love hath no man...



''than he who lays down his life

for his brother.



''And no greater love hath man...



''than the love of man for man,

and brother for brother.''



We shall now move forward...



into an uninterrupted age

of brotherhood and love...



For love is the greatest thing the world....



He might as well say

that hate is the greatest.



What people want is hate.

Hate and nothing but hate.



ln the name of righteousness and love,

ye shall have hate.



Out of love, ye shall throw down

nitroglycerine bombs...



-and ye shall kill your brother.




You know, it's the lie that kills.



lf people want hate, let them have it.



Death, torture, murder,

destruction, let's have iti



But not in the name of love.



l abhor humanity, l wish it was swept away.



lt could go, and there would be no loss

if every human being perished tomorrow.



Beg your pardon.



So, you want

everybody in the world destroyed?



Yes, absolutelyi



Don't you yourself think

it's a wonderful, clear idea?



A world empty of people...



just uninterrupted grass

and a rabbit sitting there?



You don't seem to see

much love in humanity.



What about individual love?



l don't believe in love

any more than l believe in hate or grief.



Love is an emotion. You feel or don't feel,

according to your circumstances.



lf you don't believe in love,

what do you believe in?



Just in the end of the world and rabbits?



The point about L-O-V-E is that we hate

the word, because we've vulgarized it.



lt should be taboo,

forbidden from utterance for many years...



till we've found a new and better idea.



Well, l shall just have to leave it to you...



to send your new and better idea

down from the holy altar.



When you think the world is ready,

of course.



Come on. Go on, you cow.



Come on, you bitchi



Gerald, stopi



What are you doing?



Don't let her goi



He's fallingi



Gudrun do somethingi lt's so cruel.



Gudrun, do somethingi



Whorei Demoni



l should think you're proudi



Report to the office.



l'm sorry, Dewhurst.



Can't you keep him on a little longer?



l've already replaced him, Father.



Don't you think his pension

will be sufficient?



lt's not the pension. lt's the work.



l still have a few more years' work left in me.



Not the sort of work l want.



They hate you.

l'm glad l won't have to see it much longer.



Their hate is better than your love.



You made a fortune exploiting them.



And now you try to ease your guilt

by slipping them a few coins.



At least l give them a fair salary...



if they can do the work.



There'll be few of them left to pay soon...



with you and your new machines.



Yes, me and my new machines.



They say you've stopped the widows' coals.



We've always allowed the widows

of men who worked for the firm...



a load of coal every three months.



They'll have to pay cost price from now on.



The firm's not the charitable

institution you think it is.



Take us home.



-Mind your way, Thomas.

-Thank you, sir.



What price, thati She'll do, won't she?



l'd give my week's wages

for just five minutes with her.



Your missus would have

something to say to you.



Hey, you're first-classi



You think she's worth a week's wages?



Do l? l'd bloody well put them down

this second.



Hello, love.



What about this match

you were talking about?



Oh, you beautiful doll



you great big beautiful doll



You won't get much for it down here, dearie.



Come on, love, give us a drink.



-Bloody men.

-Piss off.



You wanting company?



Sure you do,

you're wanting a little company.



-Who are you, then?

-A man.



What work?



Miner. Good enough for you?



Why do you ask all these questions?



How are your thighs?



My thighs?



How are they? Are they strong?



Because l want to drown in flesh.



Hot, physical, naked flesh.






Come here. You're dying for it, aren't you?



You are hideous and ridiculous

like all the rest.



Come here, you silly bitchi



You red cowi



Good evening, Miss Brangwen.



Anything wrong, Palmer?



No offence, Mr. Crich.



l was born here, and l'll die here,

until l fly away.



Don't fly away till you come to our picnic.



Did you imagine yourself

in the midst of all this, my dear?



-lt does look rather awful.

-Can you imagine what it'll be like?



-l suppose we could get away from it all.

-Police to keep you in.



The Criches are afraid

you'll run off with the silver.



-Good afternoon.

-Good afternoon.



-Please, Father, may l have just a little beer?





-You can just have a little.



-Just one more?

-We're going for a dip, Father.



-My dear, be sure...

-You drinking, Winifred?



...not to stay in the water too long.



Right, let's have it then.



One chain of orchids still here.

There's only one left.



Now, here's three balls for you.

There you go.



This is Mr. Birkin.



How do you do? l hope you're keeping well.



Yes, thank you, l'm fit.



Hello, Mrs. Brangwen.

l know Gudrun and Ursula quite well.



Yes, l've heard them talk about you

often enough.



Mr. and Mrs. Brangwen?



l'm so glad you could come.

How do you do?



You forgot our invitation last year.







Would you like tea here, or in the house?



Can't we have a rowing boat and get out?



Get out?



You see, we know hardly anyone here.

We're almost complete strangers.



l'll see to it that you're set up

with a few acquaintances.



You know what l mean.

Can't we go over there and explore?



The light is so perfect.

Perhaps we could bathe.



lt reminds one of the upper reaches

of the Nile, as one imagines the Nile.



Do you think it's far enough off?



l suppose you could go there.



Unfortunately, we don't have

any more boats. They're all out now.



lt would be so lovely.



Do you handle a boat pretty well?



-Pretty well.

-Yes, we both row like water spiders.



Then there's my small canoe,

l didn't bring out...



for fear somebody would drown themselves.



Do you think you'd be safe in that?

You see, l'm responsible for this water.



l had a canoe at Arundel.

l can assure you l'm perfectly safe.



Then l shall see to it

that you're given a tea basket...



and you can have a picnic all to yourselves.



That is the idea, isn't it?



How fearfully good.



How frightfully nice of you.



Behind the rock....



Come on. lt's all muddy.



Are you happy, Prune?



Ursula, l am utterly happyi



So am l.



Pretty bubbles in the air



They fly so high



Nearly reach the sky



Then, like my dreams, they fade and die



Fortune's always hiding



I've looked everywhere



For I'm forever blowing bubbles



Pretty bubbles in the air



Pretty bubbles in the air



They fly so high



Nearly reach the sky



Then, like my dreams, they fade and die



Fortune's always hiding



I've looked everywhere



But I'm forever blown



Aren't they charming, Ursula?



Charming? Won't they do anything to us?



l'm sure they won't.



l'm frightened.



Keep singing.



What the hell do you think you're doing?



l think we've all gone madi



Pity we aren't madderi



Oh, you beautiful doll



You great big beautiful doll



Let me put my arms around you



Why have you come?



And why do you want to drive them mad?



They're nasty when they turn.



Turn where?



Turn against you.



Turn against me?



They gored one of the farmer's cows

to death the other day.



What do l care?



l care, seeing they're my cattle.



How are they yours?

You haven't swallowed them.



Give me one of them. Nowi



You know where they are?



You think l'm frightened of you

and your cattle, don't you?



Why should l think that?



That's why.



You struck the first blow.



And l shall strike the lasti



Why are you behaving

in this impossible and ridiculous fashion?






make me behave like this.









Don't be angry with me.






No, l'm not angry with you.



l am in love with you.






Well, that's one way of putting it.



lt's all right then?






Yes, it's all right.



l must be going home now.



Must you? How sad.



-Are you really sad?




l wish we could go on

walking like this forever.



There is a golden light in you,

which l wish that you would give me.



l always think l'm going to be loved...



and then l'm let down.









Where are you?



Help me, pleasei



Help me, someonei



Please, quick, somebody comei



Hold on, Laurai







-Where were they?

-l don't know.



-Keep away from mei




Gerald, stop iti



-l've got to find themi

-You can'ti



Why should you interfere?



You can't seei



Oh, God, Laurai



-Try to keep the boat stilli

-l can'ti



Come outi



Keep backi You can't help us.



Come out, Geraldi



For God's sake, come outi






-Keep the boat steady, for God's sakei

-l'm trying.



-Hang on to the--

-lt's too darki



Are you all right?



Gerald, hang oni



We shan't save them, Father.



There's no knowing where they are.



And there's a current as cold as hell.



Go home and look to yourselfi



We'll let the water out.

Rupert, go to the north sluice.



There's room in that water there...



for thousands.



Two is enough.



There's one thing about our family,

you know.



Once anything goes wrong...



it can never be put right.



Not with us.



Do you think they're dead?









Do you mind very much?



l don't mind about the dead,

once they're dead.



The worst of it is,

they cling to the living and won't let go.



l'm afraid of death.



Death's all right, nothing better.



But you don't want to die?



l would like to die from our kind of life.



Be born again...



through a love that is like sleep.



With new air around one,

that no one's ever breathed before.



l thought love wasn't good enough for you.



l don't want love.



l don't want to know you.

l want to leave myself.



l want you to be lost to yourself...



so we are found different.



We shouldn't talk

when we're tired and wretched.



Say you love me.



Say ''my love'' to me.



l love you right enough.

l just want it to be something else.






Why isn't it enough?



Because we can go one better.



We can't.

We can only say we love each other.



Say ''my love'' to me.



Say it.



Yes, my love.



Let love be enough, then.



l love you, then.



l'm bored by the rest.



Say you love me.









Please, say iti



Please, no....



l do love you.



Must it be like this?



She killed him.



What did he mean?



Perhaps it's better to die

than to live mechanically...



a life that's repetition of repetition.



By God, l'd just concluded

that nothing mattered in the world...



except somebody

to take the edge off one's being alone.



The right somebody.



Meaning the right woman, l suppose?



Yes, of course. Failing that...



an amusing man.



Well, if you're bored,

why not try hitting something?






Providing it was something worth hitting.



-You ever done any boxing?




You mean, you may as well hit me?






Well, yes, perhaps...



in a friendly sort of way, of course.



Oh, quite.



l never learned the gentlemanly art.



You know, l've got the feeling that...



if l don't watch myself...



l shall do something silly.



Why not do it?



l used to do some

Japanese-style wrestling once.



l was never very good at it.



-Those things don't interest me.

-Don't they?



Well, they do me.



How do you start?






You can't do much in a stuffed shirt.



-All right, let's strip and do it properly.

-Very good.



Now, you come at me any way you want,

and l'll try and get out of it.






That's good.






Yes, l've got you.



Was it...



too much for you?






One ought to strive,

wrestle and be physically close.



lt makes one sane.



-Do you think so?

-Yes, l do. Do you?






We are mentally and spiritually close.



Therefore, we should be

physically close, too.



lt's more complete.



You know how the old German knights

used to swear blood-brotherhood?






make wounds in their arms...



and run blood into each other's cuts.






And swear to be true to each other,

of one blood all their lives.



That's what we ought to do.



No wounds, l mean that's obsolete.



But we ought to swear

to love each other, you and l.



lmplicitly. Perfectly...



finally, without any possibility

of ever going back on it.



Shall we swear to each other one day?



We'll wait till l understand it better.



Well, at any rate...



one feels freer and more open now.



And that's what we want.






ln a way, that's what l want with Ursula.



Single, clear, yet balanced.



But they're all the same, women.



lt's the lust for passion...



greed for self-importance in love.



l should think Gudrun is even worse.



You seen her lately?



She's coming over next week.



Hermione suggested

she teach Winifred to draw.



The child hasn't been the same

since her sister....



Since the drowning.



Are you fond of Ursula?



l think l love her.



l suppose the next step's engagement...



then marriage.



You know, l always believe in love...



in true love.



But where do you find it nowadays?



l don't know.



Life has all kinds of things.



There isn't only one road.



l don't care how it is with me...



as long as l feel...



that l've lived.



l don't care how it is, as long as l feel that.






Yes. l suppose it could be ''fulfilled.''



l don't use the same words as you.



Well, it's the same.



Would you like a bath?



Come on, theni



Get themi Go for themi



Drive them awayi



Rangeri Heel, boy. Come here, boy.



Down, Rangeri Here, boyi



-You all right?




Who the hell let these dogs in the drive?

Take them back.



Here, come along, heel.



Take them back to the kennel.



Have you taken leave

of your senses, Christiana?



How many times must l tell you?

No one is ever turned away from my door.



Yes, l know. ''Love thy neighbor.''



And you love your neighbor

more than your own family.



Why don't you turn me and the children

out, and keep open house for them?



lf it wasn't for them,

you wouldn't have this house.



lf they're in trouble,

it's my duty to help them.



You think it's your duty

to invite all the rats in the world...



-to come and gnaw at your bones.

-Let's go inside, Mother.



Mr. Crich can't see you.



You think you can come here

whenever you like?



Go away, there's nothing for you here.



-Give him to me.

-Thank you.



Gerald says, if you like it...



we could have it all to ourselves as a studio.



Of course, we'll mend the windows,

and have it decorated.



But Gerald says it all depends on you, so...



do you like it?



-lt's remarkable.

-Goodi Geraldi



Come on, let's go and see Gerald.

Come on, Bismarck.



Winifred seems to have taken to you.



Will you come again?



l feel very drawn to her.



Yes, l can come again.



Gerald, isn't it wonderful?

We're going to draw Bismarck.



lsn't she beautiful? lsn't she strong?



Let its mother stroke its fur then, darling...



because it's so mysterious.



Look what l bought.



How lovely.



How perfectly lovely.



-But why did you give them to me?

-l wanted to.



Am l called on to find reasons?



Opals are unlucky, aren't they?



l prefer unlucky things.



Luck is vulgar.

Who wants what luck would bring? l don't.



They can be made a little bigger.






l'm glad you bought them.



Won't it be lovely, going home in the dark?



l promised to go to Shortlands tonight

to have dinner with Gerald.



-lt doesn't matter, you can go tomorrow.

-Hermione's there.



She's going away in a couple of days.

l suppose l ought to say goodbye to her.



-You don't mind, do you?

-No, why should l mind?



Well, that's what l asked myself.

Why should you mind?



-But you seem to.

-l assure you, l don't mind in the least.



lf that's where you feel you belong,

then that's where you must go.



You are a fool, with your,

''That's where you belong.''



lt's all finished between Hermione and me.



She seems to mean more to you than to me.



l'm not taken in by your word twisting.



lf you still feel you belong to Hermione,

then you do, that's all.



But you don't belong to me.



lf you weren't a fool, you'd know

one can be decent, and wrong.



lt was wrong of me to go on all that time

with her, it was a deathly process.



But after all,

one can have a little human decency.



But you must tear my soul out, with your

jealousy at the mention of her name.



l, jealous?

She means nothing to me, not thati



lt's what she stands for that l hate.



Her lies and her falsenessi



lt's deathi



But you want it, you can't help yourself.

Well, then, you go and get iti



That's what l say, but don't come to mei



l've got nothing to do with iti



You're a fooli



Yes, l am a fool.



And thank God for iti



l'm too big a fool

to swallow your cleverness.



You go to your women,

your spiritual brides.



Or aren't they common and fleshy enough?



No, you're not satisfied, are you?

You'd marry me for your everyday use...



and keep your spiritual brides

for tripping off into the beyond.



Yes, l know your dirty little game.



You think l'm not as spiritual as Hermione.



Well, Hermione is a fishwifei



A fishwifei



So you go to her.

That's what l say. Go to her.



ln her soul, she's as common as dirt.



And all the rest is just pretense.



But you love it.



Do you think l don't know

the foulness of your sex life and hers?



Well, l do.



And it's that foulness that you want,

you liar...



well, have it. Have it.



You're such a liari



-There's a bicycle coming.

-l don't care.



Good afternoon.



Good afternoon.



Maybe it's true...



lies, dirt and all.



But Hermione's spiritual intimacy

is no rottener...



than your emotional jealous intimacy.



l am not jealous.

What l say, l say because it's true.



You're a false and foul liar.



That's what l say, and you hear it.



Very good.



The only hopeless thing is a fool.



Yes, quite right.



So you take back your rings...



and buy yourself a female elsewhere.



l'm sure there'll be plenty of women

who'll be quite willing...



to share in your spiritual mess.



See what a flower l've found you?






Did l abuse you?






l shall have my own back.



So this is where

you've been living all the time.



What a perfectly lovely, noble place.



lt's so warm and cozy.



We must get out of our responsibilities

as quick as we can...



drop our jobs like a shot.



We must say, we must write, ''Dear Sir...



''l would be very grateful if you

would liberate me as soon as possible...



''from my post as schoolmistress

of the Beldover Grammar School...



''without, of course,

waiting for the usual month's notice.''



l could be so happy here.



No, we'll wander a bit first.



We'll get married straightaway,

and we'll wander a bit.



-We'll never go apart.




because we love each other.



''And the third Angel poured out his vials

on the river and the fountains of water....''



After Laura's death...



Father's world collapsed.



We haven't had

much illness in the house either.



Not until Father.



It's something you don't reckon with

until it's there.



And then you realize

it was there all the time.



It was always there.



The possibility of this...



incurable illness...



this creeping death....



There's nothing left.



Do you understand what l mean?



You seem to be...



reaching at the void...



then you realize that you're a void yourself.



You can't go on holding up the roof forever.

You know that sooner or later...



you've got to let go,

so you don't know what to do.



You must. lf l can help you....



l don't want your help...



because there's nothing to be done.



l just want to talk to somebody...






Mother, how nice of you to come down.



How are you?



You know Miss Brangwen,

of course, don't you?






Winifred tells me the doctor

had something to say about your father.



What is it?



lt's just that his pulse is very weak...



and it misses altogether on occasions...



and he might not last the night out.



You're not getting into a state, are you?



You're not letting it make you hysterical?



No, l don't think so, Mother.



lt's just that someone should see it through.



Have they?



And why should you take it on yourself?



What have you got to do

with seeing it through?



lt'll see itself through.



You're not needed.



No, l don't suppose there is much l can do.



lt's just.... lt affects us, you see.



You like to be affected, don't you?



lt's quite a treat for you.






Yes, you would have to be important.



You've no need to stop at home.



Why don't you go away?



You're as weak as a cat, really.



Always were.



A strange lady, my mother.






With ideas of her own.






lf you want to go home,

l'll see to it that the car's brought round.



No, l want to walk.



You might just as well drive.



But l would much rather walk.



Would you?



Then l shall come with you.



You help me so much.



l can't believe it.






Why can't you believe it?



lt's true.



lt's as true as...



as true as we stand here.



You are so beautiful.



And l must go. No.



Let me go alone.



How much more water leaked into the pit?



Some more.



We'll have to run off the lake.






No, it's me, Gerald.



You're very muddy.



l was walking in the dark.



What do you want from me?



l came because l must.



-Why do you ask?

-l must ask.



There is no answer.



You must go, my love.



lt's getting late.



No, not for a minute.



Yes, you must go.

l'm afraid, if you stay any longer.







Shall Gudrun and l...



rush into marriage along with you?



lf l were you, l wouldn't marry.



But ask Gudrun, not me.

You're not marrying me, are you?



l thought you were dead nuts on marriage.



There are all kinds of marriages,

and there are all kinds of noses...



snub and otherwise.



And you think that if l marry, it'll be snub?



What's the alternative?



lf you don't know, don't do it.



Marriage, in the old sense,

seems repulsive...



The whole world in couples,

each couple in its own little house...



watching its own little interests,

stewing in its own privacies.



lt's the most repulsive thing on earth.



Yes, l quite agree.

There's something inferior about it.



There again, what's the alternative?



We've got to find one.



l do believe in a permanent union

between a man and a woman.



Chopping about is merely

an exhaustive process.



But a permanent relationship between

a man and a woman isn't the last word.



lt certainly isn't.






We have to take down this

love-and-marriage ideal from its pedestal.



We want something broader.



l believe in the additional perfect

relationship, between man and man.



Additional to marriage.



l don't see how they can be the same.



No, not the same, but equally important...



equally creative, equally sacred, if you like.



l know you believe something like that.



Only, l can't feel it, do you see?



Gudrun might rush into marriage like us.

Wouldn't that be nice?



Rubbish. Gudrun is a born mistress,

just as Gerald is a born lover.



lf all women are either wives or mistresses,

then Gudrun is a mistress.



And all men are either lovers or husbands.



Why not both?



No, the one excludes the other.



Then l want a lover.



Oh, no, you don't.



Yes, l do.



-How much is it?

-Ten shillings.



No, we don't want that.

We can have my furniture from the house.



-lt's so beautiful.




So pure.



-l'm only going to give you five shillings.




lt almost breaks my heart.



My beloved country.



lt had something to express,

even when it made this chair.



Now all we can do

is to fish amongst rubbish heaps...



for remnants of the old expression.



There's no production in us anymore...



just sordid and foul mechanicalness.



l hate your past.



l'm sick of it.



Not as sick as l am of the accursed present.



l don't want the past to take its place.



l don't want old things.



The truth is, we don't want things at all.



The thought of a house

and furniture of my own is hateful to me.



Madam, it's yours.



l hope you will both be very happy together.



-We must live somewhere.

-No, not somewhere, anywhere.



Not have a definite place.

Just you and me and a few others.



Where we needn't wear any clothes,

and can be ourselves without any bother.



Rupert, what do you mean,

you, me and a few other people?



You've got me.



l always imagined our being happy

with a few other people.



-Why should we be?

-l don't know.



One has a hankering after

a sort of further fellowship.



Why should you hanker after other people?



Why should you need them?



Don't you need them?



Or does it just end with us two, then?



Yes. What more do you want?



lf people care to come along, we'll let them.



But it must happen. You can't

do anything about it with your will.



You always seem to think

you can force the flowers to come out.



People must love us because they do.

You can't make them.



l know.



But must one just go on

as if one's alone in the world?



You've got me.

Why should you need others?



You must just learn to be alone.



Two teas, please.



Did you know that Gerald Crich suggested

we all go away together at Christmas?



Yes, he's spoken to Rupert about it.



Don't you think it's amazingly cool?



l rather like him for it.



And what did Rupert say?



He said it would be most awfully jolly.



Well, don't you think it would be?



l think it might be awfully jolly, as you say...



but don't you think it was an unpardonable

liberty speaking to Rupert like that?



l mean, Ursula, they could be two men...



arranging an outing

with some little type they picked up.



Oh, no.



Nothing like that.



l think the friendship between

Rupert and Gerald is rather beautiful.



They're so simple. They say anything

to each other, like brothers.



There's something l love about Gerald.



He's really much more lovable

than l thought him.



He's free, Gudrun.



He really is.



Do you know where he proposes to go?



Near Zermatt.



l don't know where exactly.



lt would be rather lovely, don't you think?



High up, in the perfect snow.



Very lovely.



l think Gerald spoke to Rupert about it...



so that it shouldn't seem

like an outing with a...






l know that he does commonly take up

with that sort.



Does he?



How do you know?



l know of a model in Chelsea.



Let's hope he had a good time with her.



l must go, Prune. Rupert's waiting.



The minute l set foot on foreign soil,

l am transported.



l am a new creature, stepping into life.



lt's never quite the same in England.

One's afraid to let go...



afraid what'll happen

if every one else lets go.



Well, we're out of it,

so let's all let go together.



Look outi



There's one for youi



How romantic it all is.



Shall we dance?



What a fine game you're playing.



She's in love with you.



Oh, dear, isn't she in love with you?



Right, l'll get you next time.






Do you love me?



Far too much.



l couldn't bear this cold, eternal place

without you.



Cold? Do you hate it, then?



lf you weren't here,

it would kill the very quick of my life.



lt's good that we're warm and together.



l want to take it.



All right, we'll have it, then.



Wait, let me put my feet up.



Now pushi




-l'm not on. l am now.



We're going to come offi



-lt wasn't too much for you?




lt was the most complete...



moment of my life.



See you down there.



Hey, Prune, isn't it interesting?



Herr Loerke is doing a great frieze

for a factory in Cologne.



Or is it for the outside?

The outside, the street.



So you are an artist. l knew it.



You know, l think that the machinery...



the acts of labor, are beautiful...



extremely beautiful.



The factory of today must be the Parthenon.



Do you believe art should serve industry?



Art should interpret industry, ich glaube...



as art once interpreted religion.



Gudrun is an artist as well, you know?



What do you do?



l'm a sculptress.



And what do you sculpt?



Animals, birds.



Knickknacks for the rich?



You're not an artist.

You've never worked as the world works.



Yes, l have and l do.



Have you known what it was

to lie in bed for three days...



because you had nothing to eat...



in a room with three other families

and a toilet in the middle...



a big pan with a plank on it...



and your father making love...



to a street whore in the corner?



Do you understand?



How old are you?






Your husband?






Come along,

l will show you something interesting.



l want to show you something.



This is.... No, this.



My factory, it's colossal.



Something special.






lt's beautiful.



Why did you make the horse so stiff?






Yes. Stiff.



l mean, look at that stock,

stupid, brutal thing.



A horse is a very sensitive creature...



quite delicate, really...



but sensitive.



Well, it's not a picture of a friendly horse...



to which you give a lump of sugar,

gnadige Frau...



lt's part of a work of art.



lt has no relation with anything that's...



outside the world of art.



Yes, but it's still a picture of a horse,

isn't it?



lt's not a picture of a cow, certainly not.



Where is she now, the model?



She was a nuisance.



Not for a minute would she keep still.



Not until l'd slapped her hard

and made her cry.



Then she'd sit for five minutes.



Did you really slap her?



Yes, l did.



Harder than l have ever

beat anything in my life.



l had to, for the sake of my art.



Love has no place in your world of art.



L'amour, l'amore, die Liebe.

l detest it in every language.



What does this matter

if l wear this hat or another?



So love is only for convenience.



l would give everything...



everything, all you love...



for a little companionship and intelligence.






l want to go away.



-Do you?

-Don't you?



l hadn't thought about it.



l hadn't thought about it.



l hate the snow.



The unnatural light it throws on everybody.



The ghastly glamour of it all.



And the unnatural feelings

it makes everybody have.



We can go away if you like.

We can go tomorrow.



We can go to Verona

and find Romeo and Juliet...



and sit in the amphitheatre.



Yes, l'd love to be Romeo and Juliet.



A fearfully cold wind blows

through Verona from out of the Alps.



Are you glad you're going?



No, l don't want to be laughed at.



-Do you love me?

-Yes, yes.



-Do you love me?




Why is your mouth so hard?



Why is yours frozen solid?



Why do you grip your lips?



Never you mind. That's my way.



Do you know what it is to suffer

when you're with a woman?



lt tears you like a silk.



And each bit and stroke burns hot.



Of course, l wouldn't not have had it.



lt was a complete experience.



She's a wonderful woman,

but l hate her somewhere.



lt's curious.



You've had your experience now.

Why work on an old wound?



Because there's nothing else.



l've loved you, as well as Gudrun.

Don't forget.



Have you? Or do you think you have?



-You'll be all right.

-Take care.




-Bye, Gerald.



Be good.



Goodbye, Gerald.






Bye, Gudrun.






See you soon.



Why are you sitting in the dark?



Look at that lovely star up there.

Do you know its name?






lt's very fine.



lsn't it beautiful?



Do you see how it darts

different colored fires?



lt's superb.



Do you regret their leaving?



No, not at all.



How much do you love me?



How much do you think l love you?



l don't know.



But what's your opinion?



Very little indeed.



Why don't l love you?



Well, l don't know why you don't.

l've been good to you.



When you first came to me

in that fearful state...



l had take pity on you, but it was never love.



Why do you keep repeating it...



that there was never any love?



Well, you don't think you love, do you?






You don't think you can love me, do you?



l don't know what you mean

by the word ''love.''



Oh, yes, you do.



You know very well

that you have never loved me.



Or have you, do you think?






And you never will love me, will you?



Why do you torture me?



l don't want to torture you.



Just say you love me.



Say you'll love me forever, won't you?



Won't you say it?

Won't you say you'll love me always...



even if you don't mean it?

But say it, Gerald, do.



l will love you always.



Fancy your actually having said it.



Try to love me a little more

and want me a little less.



You mean, you don't want me?



You're so insistent.



You have so little grace...



so little finesse.



You are crude.



You break me and waste me...



and it is horrible to me.



Horrible to you?



Oh, yes.



Don't you think l might have

Ursula's room now to myself?



You do...



as you wish.



You go where you wish.



l will.



But so can you.



You can go whenever you like.



Without notice even.






Oh, my Godi



Gerald, shall l die?



Your form is very good, Herr Crich.



Man should have something

of massiveness in their stupid form.



You don't do sports, Herr Loerke?



Not sports, no, only games.



And what sort of games might they be?



Only ones which l enjoy.



Yes, but what sort of games?



Secret games.



lnitiation games...



full of esoteric understanding...



and fearful, sensual secrets.






Contemptible rubbish.



Why are the English so inept in argument?



You know, there often is another way.



What should l say then?



Well, l'm not married.



Truth is best.



Cleopatra must have been an artist.



She reaped the essential from a man.



She harvested the ultimate sensation,

and then...



she threw away the husk.



l'm not going to play your Antony.



The whole point of a lover...



is to reach a complete understanding

of sensual knowledge.



And today, l will be...



Peter llich Tchaikovsky?






A great Russian composer.



And you're my bride of six hours.






We are on our honeymoon.



We are on our honeymoon...



on the Trans...



Siberian Express.



We're alone...



in our sleeping compartment.



l'm a homosexual...



a homosexual composer...






...who is married...



to protect his family name...



from gossip...



and scandal.



And you...



you're a scheming...



thieving, nymphomaniac...



who's married for fame and fortune.



Between two particular people...



the range of pure, sensational experience

is limited.



One can only extend, draw out...



and electrify.



One must not repeat.



One must find only new ways.



The train is going into a tunnel.



Why're you fascinated by that little rat?



l don't choose to be discussed by you.



My God,

what a mercy l'm not married to you.



lt doesn't matter whether

you choose to discuss it or not.



lt doesn't alter the fact you're willing

to kiss that insect's feet.



Well, you do it. l won't prevent you.

You kiss his feet.



What l want to know is what it is

about him that fascinates you?



-What is it?

-Do you?



Do you want to know what it is?



lt is that he has some understanding,

he is not stupid.



That's why.



And would you like to crawl

for the understanding of a rat?



Don't you think the understanding

of a rat is more interesting...



than the understanding of a fool?



A fool?



A conceited fool, a Dummkopf.



Wouldn't l rather be the fool

than explore those sewers with a rat?



And what have you to offer

as an alternative?



An eternity of domesticity at Shortlands?



When l think of you and your world

and your wretched coal mine...



it makes my heart sick.



You're so limited. You're a dead end.

You cannot love.



And you?



l could never love you.



lt may be over between us...



but it's not finished.



Wait, l've something for you.



Loerke, what an inspiration.



What a comble de joie indeed.



-What is it, schnapps?







lt's made from bilberries.

lt is distilled from snow.



Can you smell the bilberries?

lt's exactly like bilberries under the snow.



Listen, you're going away tomorrow?






-l don't know.

-One never does.



Where will you take a ticket to?



-l have to take a ticket?




But one does not have

to go where the ticket says.



Then take a ticket to London.



-One should never go there.




You must not go back to teaching.



Leave that to the swine

who can do nothing else.



You are an extraordinary woman.



Why should you follow the ordinary course?



You won't tell me where you will go?



Really and truly, l don't know.



lt depends which way the wind blows.



lt blows through Germany.




-Come with me to Dresden.



l live alone there.



l have a big studio. l can give you work.



l believe in you.









You came like a ghost.









l didn't want it anyway.



l'm tired.



l want to sleep.



Was it vile being dragged back?



l didn't even think of it.



l felt beastly, fetching you here.



But l simply couldn't see people.



That was too much.






l think l'll go to Dresden...



for a while.



l did not want it to be like this.



He should have loved me.



l offered him.



Did you need Gerald?






Aren't l enough for you?






You are enough for me,

as far as a woman is concerned.



You are all women to me.



But l wanted a man friend, as eternal...



as you and l are eternal.



l don't believe it.



lt's an obstinacy, a theory...



a perversity.



You can't have two kinds of love.



Why should you?



lt seems as if l can't.



Yet l wanted it.



You can't have it because it's impossible.



l don't believe that.


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