Evans!
Don't come!
LONDON, June 13, 1923
Those ruffians dead Gods|shan't have it all their own way.
Those gods who never lose |a chance of hurting, foughting ...
and spoiling human lives ...
are seriously put out|if all the same, you behave like a lady.
Of course, now I think there are no | Gods and there's no one to blame.
It's so very dangerous to live | for only one day.
I buy the flowers myself, Lucy. | Yes, ma'am.
And Mrs Walker |said not to forget that
Rumplemayers's men| will be here at eleven.
I won't forget.
Oh, what a day, Lucy! |What a day for my party.
What a luck!
What a plunge!
What a plunge!
Good morning to you, Clarissa. | Hugh!
And where are you off to? | To buy flowers for my party.
I love walking in London on a day|like this. It's better that in the country.
Evelyn wouldn't agree with you there. | She can't bear coming out to town.
I had to get her to come up to see W. Bud.
He's putting her in a nursing home, | for a few days.
Nothing serious?
No, nothing serious. She's just a good deal |out of salts.
The war may be over, | but there is still the echoe of it.
The Boxborough boy| was killed, you know ...
and she is very close|to Lady Boxborough.
And Evelyn takes things badly.
Yes, one does still hear dreadful stories.
I must get on. The'll be waiting for this, | at the palace.
Will you still come to my party tonight?
Oh, yes! Evelyn absolutly insists I go.
Hugh Whitbread. I can forgive you | liking him, Clarissa.
He's a buffon. Even when he plays tennis, | his hair doesn't move.
He's a barbers block. An imbecil. |He thinks of nothing but his clothes.
I like him.
How can you? He's never read anything. |Never thought anything.
Never felt anything!
Stabel boys are more likeable than|Hugh.
Sally says | he tried to kiss her in the smoking-room.
Oh! | She didn't let him? She rather die first.
Good for Sally. She sees through that | public school nonsense.
Old manners and breeding.
No country but England | could have produced Hugh.
He is sweet and unselfish | and he's very good to his mother.
You're so sentimental, Clarissa!
And you're impossible!
Oh, what beautiful flowers! |That's absolutly wonderful, Sally.
Oh, I thought Sally could be trusted |to do the flowers.
That's wicked. To cut off the heads | of those flowers. Really...
I think they're beautiful.
Peter, look at the flowers.
Yes.
Roses for the hall, I think.
And sweet peas for the table, | perhaps?
Yes! Sweet pea to the table. | It will be perfect!
Those awful motorcars.
Yes | Of course, it was a car.
- I'm loose it here. | - Septimus, please. We must go on.
I'm loose it here, |and I don't know with what purpose.
Septimus, please, poeple are looking at us. |Am I blocking the way?
Allright, then.
Bye, Mrs. Dalloway.
Mrs. Dalloway, Mrs. Dalloway. | I'm not even Clarissa anymore.
No more marrying, no more having children. |Just Mrs. Dalloway.
Mrs. Richard Dalloway, |who's to give a party.
You'll marry| a prime minister ...
and stand | at the top of the staircase.
Who'll give parties. |You'll be the perfect hostess.
You have the makings | of a perfect hostess.
You could do so much, | be so much.
What you want me to be?
Life seems to me to be very dangerous.
But one must live life |dangerously!
Look! Look, Septimus!
Is no crime.
There is no death.
The birds are singing in Greek.
The whole world is clamouring. | "Kill yourself!" "Kill yourself!"
Septimus, I'm going to walk to the lake and back.
"Kreemo". It says "Kreemo".
-So revigorating. | - I know what you meen.
The bushies, the flowers. |So well kept.
Yes, this is a wonderful garden. |Beautiful.
You should see the Milan gardens! |
What a strange person. | She's a foreigner.
Make it now ... Make it now ...
But there is a God! | No one kills from hatred!
Evans!
For God sake! Don't come!
T. .. O. ..
F. .. F. ..
E. .. And!
It says "toffee"! | I know it's "toffee".
Look, Lucy.
It sayed "Kreemo toffee".
There was a phone message, ma'am. Mr. Dalloway |sayed to tell you he would not be home for lunch.
He would be lunching at lady Bruton's.
He did!
Lady Bruton. Well...
Clarissa, my darling. Parliament | sits so late ...
and the doctor said | you must get your rest.
You must sleep undisturbed.
Fear no more the heat of the sun ...
nor the furious winter's rages.
It's all over for me.
The sheets stretched and | the bed narrow.
What we need to do is abolish | private property ...
because that really is what|causes all the problems.
Let's write | a letter to the Times about it.
Then, we should found | a society ...
to abolish private property |and do away with it forever and ever.
This house as well?
You always |look so virginal, Clarissa!
I am virginal.
Are you in love with Peter?
Oh, love...
I don't know.
But you love me?
Damn and blust! I left my sponge | in the bathroom.
Tell me to go and get it, like this!
You wouldn't! |I would!
Is it all over for me?
I've come up to the tower and left them all | blackberrying in the sun.
Don't run, Clarissa! | Young ladies don't run.
Leipzig is good, but I think| Heidelberg is beautiful...
especially this time of year. | The "Philosopher's Walk".
It reminds me very much of here, | with the gardens.
You are most fortunate the way |your gardens are done.
And you have many trees. The colors and|the way it's all been orchestrated.
It's tremendously fine. I think this is a great |achievement of the English garden.
"Love in her sunny eyes, | just basking play.
Love walks the pleasant| mazes of her hair. "
"Love does both on her lips, | forever stray...
and saws and reaps | a thousand kisses there."
"N'or all her outfought parts| love's always seen ...
but, oh, he never went within."
Clarissa.
What?
The men leed such |exciting lives ...
but their poor wives |don't seems to do so well.
Marriage is a catastrophe | for women.
But it is inevitable, isn't it?
Sally ...
Will we always be together?
Always! Always!
We'll do everything together. |We'll change the world! Come on.
Oh, Lucy!
Silver does look nice.
The doors are of the hangers in |the dining room, ma'am.
And Rumplemayers's men| will be here soon.
Can I help you with that, ma'am? | No, Lucy.
You've got enough to do.
Star gazing, are we?
Yes.
Come on, Joseph. You know the stars, | you can tell us which is which.
You see that star, | just above the horizon?
Yes. |That's Antares.
Heart of the Scorpio|constellation.
He's name means | "rival of Mars."
And that one?
Ask Libra, we have Alpha. |There goes bright star.
And see how Altair, the | brightest star of equality Eagle...
shines in the east for us today.
Ms. Kilman and I are going out. |Is there anything we can get for you, Mother?
Where are you going, Elisabeth dear?
Ms. Kilman is taking me| to meet the Rev. Whitacker.
Reverend Whitacker. Ah, yes.
Wasn't he the very instrument| in your conversion, Ms. Kilman?
Yes, he helped bring me | to our Lord.
And is today's visit part of | the history lesson?
The reverend Whitacker is also |a historian, Mother.
He can put this true religion | in a proper perspective.
I wonder what that is.
I've never wanted to convert anyone, I hope. | I just want everyone to be themselves.
I've often thought that religious fanaticism | can make a person ...
rather careless.
Mother! We just going to talk to him.
You won't forget about my party |tonight, Elizabeth!
I was going to help Mrs. Kilman | sort the clothes for the mission.
Well, I dare say Ms. Kilman could |spare you for one evening.
I'll see, Mother. We must go, | or we'll be late.
It all seems useless. Going on being in love. |Going on quarreling.
Going on making out. | But Peter, you want so much from me!
You leave me nothing to myself. | You want every little bit of me!
Well, I do! I want us| to be everything to each other.
But that's all so suffocating!
God! God! God!
Peter Walsh!
Clarissa. | Peter!
But you're in India.
No, didn't you get my last letter? | I said I'd be here in June.
No. Your last letter said|that you might be back ...
But I never suspected it.
It's extraordinary how Peter | can put me in this state, just by coming here.
He looks awfully well.
It's heavenly to see you again, Peter.
I arrived last night.
Playing with his knife. | How is everything? How are you?
Oh, so like him. | How is Richard?
Richard's with some committee. | Something to do with his constituents.
What's this? What's all this here?
I'm mending my dress. | It's for my party tonight.
Which I shan't invite you to, | my dear Peter.
Why? | Why won't you ask me?
It is extraordinary that| you shown up this morning.
I've been thinking | about Bordon all day.
I heard about your father. |I should've written to you, of course.
Although I never really got on with him. |He never liked anyone who...
who wanted to marry you.
Herbert has Bordon now. | I never go there.
And what happened to you? | Millions of things.
Should I tell you?
Should I make a clean brast of it?
I'm in love, I'm in love with a girl | in India.
And who is she? |A younger woman, of course.
Well, I'm not old, you know? | My life isn't over not by any means.
Well, you of course ...
think me as a failure, | wich I suppose I am compared to all that.
But who is she? Tell me.
A married woman. | Unfortunately.
She's the wife of a major | in the Indian Army.
She has two young children, | a boy and a girl.
And it's a bit of a mess.
I'm here to see the lawyers | about a divorce.
Just called Daisy.
Yes?
Yes
But what should you do?
The lawyers and the solicitors|they can judge...
For heaven's sake, |leave that knife alone!
I know what I'm up against.
I know what I'm up against.
All is all up! And am I behaving like a fool, | weepping, being emotional!
Probably annoyed you, |turning up at this hour ...
and told you everything, | as usual?
Are you happy, Clarissa? | Does Richard ...
Excuse me, ma'am. The gentlemen| are here from Rumplemayers.
Oh, thank you, Lucy.
Good bye, Clarissa.
My party tonight
Please come to my party, | tonight.
Come on! Let's get out of this.
I want to do another!
Come on.
Is this what you want? | Staying here and go to parties?
But I like parties! | Oh, Clarissa!
You always tie me up|with your queen standard, Breitl.
It's my turn to shuffle, | Herbert.
Hugh, do you |ever stop eating?
Did you know |Wingate's married again?
Yes, they came to call |last week.
The woman use to be his housemaid.
He had a nerve. | Bringing a housemaid to Cork.
Yes! She was absurdly overdressed. |She looked like a cockatoo.
And she never stopped talking!
She probably thought |you all knew.
Knew what?
That she had a baby| before she was married.
- I don't think I should ever be up to speak to her again! | - Don't be ridiculous, Clarissa.
If this is true we should certainly| not receive her again.
I should think not. If we start receiving | women like that, you don't know where it'll end?
Oh, you snob! You represent all that's | detestable in british middle class life.
It's men like you who's responsible | for prostitutes around Piccadilly.
Me! | Yes, men like you.
That's enough, Sally. We'll have no more | of this conversation.
I'm glad I walked out. They're all | such snobs and Hugh is a fraud.
Clarissa is so prudish | and arrogant.
Not really.
It's just what she's been brought up to. | Wish she would see things more clearly.
Clearly enough to marry you, |you mean?
I see.
This is Mr. Wickham, Peter. | My name is Dalloway.
Richard Dalloway.
But I've introduced you|to everyone as Mr. Wickham.
Still Dalloway. | My name is Dalloway.
Dalloway.
So definitly you're going|to go to politics?
Yes, I think so. | What is with your friend, Mr. ..?
"My name is Dalloway".
What's the matter?
Somebody's just walking | on my grave.
I took another friend. | She's gonna marry that man!
I went into the sea.
I have been dead.
But now I'm alive.
I must rest, I must rest.
Septimus, I'm going to ask | someone the time.
I think we have to go now.
It's nowhere to go, |nowhere to hide.
Septimus, you know we are going to see | a doctor who will help you.
No more doctors!
No more lies! | Septimus, please!
Irvin!
Thank you.
Evans?
Evans!
For God's sake, don't come!
Septimus, it isn't Evans, allright? | It isn't Evans.
There is nothing to worry about. | The man is not Evans.
Really, he isn't.
Come on.
Let's go for a walk.
Clarissa! It's such a lovely evening. | Let's go to the lake.
Yes! We can go boating.
Let's get our shoulds. | It might be cold.
Peter! We're going boating| on the lake. Aren't you coming?
I think Mr. Dalloway | likes you.
Oh, aren't we being | the perfect hostess?
Oh, don't come than if you're going |to be beastly in the wood.
"Dalloway. It's still Dalloway."
Come on.
They're all waiting.
Poor old woman.
Septimus, you won't tell | the doctor, will you?
You mustn't. | They will take you away from me.
Sir William BRADSHAW | M.D.
I've looked at Dr. Holmes's notes. | He's been seeing your husband for some six weeks?
Yes. | He is our landlady's doctor.
She send for him because | I told her I was worried about Septimus.
He threatened to kill himself? | He didn't mean it.
No. Of course not.
And Dr. Holmes prescribed ...
bromine? | Yes
He said that there was nothing really wrong. |
|But Septimus keeps talking to the dead man, Evans, |his friend who was killed in the war. |
And Septimus wasn't like this| when I met him.
It's happened in just the last few months.
He says people are talking | behind bedroom walls...
and he saw a woman's head| in the middle of a fern.
He says he's on trial | for some terrible crime ...
but, of course, he's done nothing.
And then he seems to forget |it all and seems happy again, as he used to be.
We went to Hampton Court, |on top of a bus, the other day...
and told of red and yellow flowers. He said |they looked like floating lamps.
And he was fun, as he used to be | and made me laugh. I was so happy.
And suddenly, as we | were standing by the river, he said ...
"We will kill ourselves." | Then, he held my hand ...
and said he was falling| into the flames. And he cried and cried.
Ms. Warrensmith, your husband is | very seriously ill.
From everything you told me | and from Dr. Holmes's report ...
I believe that his suffering|from delayed shell shock.
But he's not mad, is he?
I never use that word. | I prefer to say ...
lacking the sense of proportion.
But Dr. Holmes said that there| was nothing what so ever the matter!
Your husband needs rest. |Complete rest.
But not away from me!
My dear Ms. Warrensmith sometimes |we have to separate such people...
from their loved ones, |for their own good.
Dalloway! I met Clarissa | this morning.
So, she's giving another of her |famous parties tonight?
Right as usual, Hugh.
And Lady Bruton summond you as well. | Wonder what she wants from us?
Nothing we can't accomplish | ever at a good lunch, I'm sure.
Ah, good day, Miss Brasher. | Good day, sir.
How's your brother, | in South Africa?
I got you here under false pretenses. |I actually need your help.
But we'll have lunch first.
And how is Clarissa?
Quite well recovered, thank you. | The doctor told her he must take things easy ...
But she does so want to|give her party tonight.
I trust we'll should have the pleasure | of your company tonight.
Of course, Richard. I wouldn't miss | one of your parties.
I met Clarissa in the park | this morning.
She was wearing |a yellow feathered hat.
Oh, yes! I like that hat.
We'll you come in now, please?
Good.
Do sit down.
I see that you served with great distinction |in the war, Mr. Warrensmith.
At the war?
The European war.
A little shindy of schoolboys | with gunpowder.
Did I serve with distinction? | I'd forgotten.
In the war, itself, I failed.
No, he served with the greatest distinction. | He was promoted.
I. ..
I have committed a crime. | He's done nothing wrong whatever.
What did Dr. Holmes advised |you to do?
To my wife he said|to make me porridge.
Headache, dreams, | fears are just nerves.
Health is largely a |matter of our control.
I should take up some hobby.
Dr. Holmes ...
throws himself into outside interests. | And throwing himself, he is able ...
to switch off from his patients | on to old furniture.
Dr. Holmes is interested | in antique furniture.
Yes
So, when the damn fool came again, | I refused to see him.
Impulsive brute...
Blood red nostrils...
Once you stumble, human nature | is on you. Holmes is on you.
Our only chance is to escape | without letting Holmes know.
Anywhere, | away from Dr. Holmes.
There is no excuse. |Nothing whatever is the matter.
Except sin.
For which ...
human nature has condemned me |to death.
I can not feel.
I did not care, | when Evans was killed.
That was the worst ...
but all the other crimes ...
raised their heads, | shaked their fingers ...
and they cheer and they sneer.
And the verdict of human nature | on such a beast ...
is death!
We all have our moments | of depression.
He has impulses, sometimes? | That is my own affair!
There you are mistaken, sir. We are all |responsible one for another.
I am responsible | to Dr. Holmes?
Another humbug.
We ...
have been arranging|that you should go into a home.
One of Holmes's homes?
No, one of my homes, | Mr. Warrensmith.
And there we will teach you to rest |and to regain a sense of proportion.
But I've confessed! |I confessed my crimes!
Why won't you had me off? | He's done nothing. Nothing!
He will be perfectly looked after. | I will visit once a week.
But my husband does not like | doctors. He will refuse to go.
Your husband has threatened to kill himself. |There is no alternative, it is a question of the law.
It's a very beautiful home in the country. | Nurses are admirable.
Now, if you have no further questions to ask...
I will arrange everything with Dr. Holmes.
He will send somebody around this evening ...
between five and six.
It's the law, Ms. Warrensmith, | and it is for the best.
It won't be Dr. Holmes who comes, will it?
Trust everything to me.
I do not like that man. | He's a humbug.
We are deserted.
Do you know who's in town?| Our old friend, Peter Walsh.
Back from India. | Peter Walsh back?
In trouble with some woman, |evidently.
Some woman in India.
Peter Walsh was always in trouble | of some sort.
Didn't he marry someone on the boat|going out?
I don't believe that lasted long. | I imagine that was all what...
I believe is known as "the rebound".
I suppose he'll try |to settle here now.
I'd say it will be difficult to help him. |He'll be quite a misfit.
I'm sure Clarissa will know |that he's here.
And I no doubt he'll be at her the party |tonight and all will be revealed.
Yes, if Peter Walsh is in town, | Clarissa will know.
This is better.
Come on, Peter.
We'll race you| to the top.
Well ..
my idea is this.
We all agree, do we not,| that Britain is overpopulated.
Yes, indeed.
And you agree ...
that many of these men, | back from the war ...
are finding it difficult| to find employment.
Indeed, in some cases, |their work ...
has been commandered by women. | However ...
We all know the rot| that's set in there.
Unfortunately! | Well ..
my idea is a simple one.
All the best ideas are simple, |as we know.
My project is to incourage ...
by making it financialy easy | young people of both sexes ...
to emigrate to Canada.
They will be set up with the fair chance |of doing well in Canada.
And Britain will gain financialy, |in the long run.
It's only so much that I can do, |being a woman.
But Richard, I ask you ...
to make this suggestion | in the House. And Hugh ...
I want you to help me start the ball rolling |with a letter to the Times.
I know, my dear Hugh, | that you will know, exactly ...
how to phrase it for me.
I think someone is already typing|a motion against some kind of emigration plan going.
But I suppose a letter to the Times | will do no harm.
I take it further. |Make emigration obligatory ...
if you couldn't get work |after a certain period of time.
I wouldn't go that far. | These things are never quite that simple.
There is a new chef at the Cafe Royal ...
does marvellous things |with mollusces.
You'll just have time | to catch the three o'clock post, Mildred.
I think we can say if you say it, |that was a job well done.
I should take my rest now.
Go!
I wonder if Peter Walsh has|got in touch with Clarissa?
I think I might buy | something for Evelyn. She is very low.
And jewelry never |loses its price.
I think I buy Clarissa |some flowers.
Yes, I'll pop in to see her on my way | back to the House with some flowers.
Fresh flowers!
I wanted them to be red.
I know. |They're the red ones left.
Richard!
Red roses!
I put them somewhere | very special.
How was lunch? Amusing?
Hugh was there. | He's "rely" is getting quite intolerable.
She wants him to write | a letter to The Times.
One of her schemes | to put in the world in order.
What's all this?
Richard, you couldn't have forgotten! | It's for my party!
And now, it will all be spoiled.
Come here.
Let's sit down for five minutes.
Why would it all be spoiled?
Ms. Marsham has just |sent me this note to say ...
that she's quite sure | I wouldn't mind ...
she's invited Ellie Henderson. | What's so dreadful about that?
Richard! She's one of the dullest |women in the world.
She'll bore everyone. And than Elizabeth said |she isn't coming to the party tonight.
She's gone off to pray | with that dreadful Mrs. Kilman.
You worry too much |about your parties, Clarissa.
Richard, it's all that I can do.
Give people one night | in which everything seems enchanted ...
when all the women seem beautiful, | all the men are handsome ...
and everyone's made to feel| they're amusing ...
Yes, liked.
And go home thinking: | "Ah, what fun it was!"
"What a wonderful evening!" | "How good it is to be alive!"
I don't think poor old Ellie Henderson | could put a stop to that.
You're laughing at me. |Not in the least.
Richard! | You're so much nicer than I am.
You should never have | married me.
Then what would you've done? | Married Peter Walsh, I suppose.
Would you believe that|he was here this morning?
Yes, Minnie Bruton |tell me he was in town.
He's in love with some| woman in India.
He's here to see about |the divorce.
He's just the same. | He hasn't changed the slightest.
You choose a cake, sir. | Thank you.
Did you understand what | the Reverend was saying this morning ...
about knowidge | coming out from suffering?
Not really, no. |But than ...
I suppose I haven't really suffered | yet.
Maybe you'll never will.
Not that I wish that one.
But as he says, real | knowledge is only gained thru suffering.
What was you wanted to buy here?
A petticoat. Mine is in shreds, | I hung on to it as long as I could.
They have some pretty striped ones.
I couldn't possibly afford the striped ones.
I might have to go to the party tonight.
I've forgotten all about it when I |said I'll help with the mission.
Mommy will be upset | if I don't go.
It's a great pity that women like your mother | have nothing better to do ...
with their time than get parties.
Oh, I know it's not her fault.
Women like your mother can't help it |if they'll been spoiled.
She likes giving parties. |I never go to parties.
Why should they ask me? | I'm plain ...
I'm unhappy. But I don't pity | myself. I pity other people more.
Your bill, madam.
You finish your tea. | I pay to set the desk.
I'll help another night at the mission. |I'm sorry. I have to go.
Fear not.
Fear no more.
Who you making that hat for? | Mrs. Filmore's married daughter.
And what's the name of Mrs. Filmore's |married daughter? Mrs. Peters.
I don't like it, but Mrs. Filmore | has been so good to us.
That's too small for Mrs. Peters. | She's enormous.
That's an organ grinding | monkey's hat.
There.
Now, the poor woman looks| like a pig at the fair.
Come on, let's see what else you|have in your workbox.
She shall have a beautiful hat.
There. Now, stitch that together | very, very carefully.
Evans?
Mrs. Filmore, I shall be to busy |looking after Septimus.
It will take a long time. | We thank you for the paper.
Evans?
It was only the evening paper. | Mrs Filmore with the evening paper.
They going to take me away, Rezia.
Sir William Bradshaw said that| you must learn to rest.
It's "must". "Must".
Why "must"? What right has he | to say "must" to me?
It is because you talk | of killing yourself.
So ...
I'm in their power.
Where are my writings, Rezia?
Burn them! | Some are very beautiful!
I'm going with you, Septimus. They can't | separate us against our will.
You're a flowering tree.
You're a sanctuary.
You fear no more!
Not Holmes, not Bradshaw.
You've triumphed.
I'm going to pack our things, | Septimus.
I shall tie this with silk | and hide them away.
Good afternoon, Mrs. Filmore. | Good afternoon, dr.
They send Holmes. | I won't let him come in here.
Ms. Warrensmith, Sir William Bradshaw | is a physician of up most integrity.
He promised not to send you. | Is your husband upstairs?
Look! I will not allow. | It is the law.
Please, go away. | I can not allow you.
Leave my husband alone, | I beg you.
Mr. Warrensmith!
You want my life?
I'll give it to you.
God | God!
Why the devil did he do it?
One of the triumphs | of modern civilization.
Good afternoon.
I'm 12, please.
Thank you. | This came for you, Mr. Walsh.
Thank you.
Thank you.
" Peter, it was heavenly to see you, | I must tell you that. Clarissa. "
We could play tennis.
No. It's too hot | and scorchy for tennis.
Beside, |we need a fourth person to play doubles.
Hugh's gone to visit his mother. |And Herbert won't play.
Maybe "My name is Dalloway" will turn up.
In his perfect whites | matching his perfect teeth.
"My name is Dalloway".
I think we've had enough of |that feeble joke.
She can't be | serious about him!
I'm gonna have this out.
You've come to an understanding | with Dalloway, haven't you?
Haven't you?
It's so difficult, Peter.
Just tell me the truth.
Tell me the truth.
Tell me the truth!
He makes me feel safe. | Safe? Is that what you want?
You want so much of me, Peter. | I just can't do it!
Throw everything away|and go across the world with you.
I'm just not brave in that way. | And Richard ...
and Richard will pamper you
and keep you in a perfectly | beautiful safe prison...
filled with flowers and stuffed | with elegant antique furniture.
He'll make all the decisions for you | and you'll never have to think again.
You demand so much from me! | Because I love you, for God's sake!
Richard will leave me room,|room to breath.
Clarissa, he is a fool!
And unimaginative, | dull fool!
You want to much of me, Peter. | I can't give it.
So, it's no use.
This is the end.
I'm sorry, Peter. | Clarissa!
Clarissa! Clarissa!
Lord Lexham. | Lord Lexham.
How delightful to see you.
I'm so sorry, but my dear wife |has a cold.
Oh, dear!
She simply would not wear her furs to| the garden party at Buckhurst.
And it was bitterly cold. | Richard!
Oh, dear! It's going to be a failure. | A complete failure.
How delightful of you to come. |Lovely to see you.
We're delighted to see you. | I'm glad you could come.
Why do I do it?
How lovely of you to come. | It was nice of you to invite me.
Mr. Peter Walsh.
Peter, you came! | How delightful to see you.
Peter! Back from India, right?
Yes, back from India. |Must be years since we've seen you.
It was a mistake to invite him. | You'll all know
when he's sorry to come.
And he's criticizing me. | I know he is.
Accusing me of being insincere. | Why do I do this things?
Why seek pinnacles | and stand drenched in fire?
I feel burned to a cinder.
Miss Henderson.
Better that...than |to brindle away like Ellie Henderson.
Ellie! I'm so glad you've come. | It's so grand!
Oh, dear! Why can she at least |stand up properly!
Well, well, I suppose | it's her weaponless state.
Wonderful to see you again.
Richard, how lovely.
Their graces, the Duke | and Duchess of Marlborough.
A duke?
Oh, why did the Marlboroughs | have to follow Ellie Henderson?
They must wonder what kind |of people I invite to our parties.
Clarissa, how lovely to see you. | Thank you so much for inviting us.
Bertie, how lovely of you to come.
It's a disaster! The party is | a disaster! I'm humiliated!
And now there's Peter wondering off. | I'm speak to him!
I know I get the chance, I know it. |Why's he like dirt? He thinks I'm absurd.
Oh, it's too much of an effort! | I'm not enjoying it at all.
I feel like a stake | driven in on the top of this stairs.
Clarissa. | Delighted to see you.
Mr. Hugh Whitbread. |How did you find Evelyn today?
Bearing up, bearing up. | I shall visit her tomorrow.
I do hope she doesn't read | Lady Azquez's memories.
Oh, I doubt it. | Not Evelyn, she's not a great reader.
Lady Bruton. | Lady Bruton? So she came...
My dear Clarissa.
Maybe she doesn't dislike me as much |as I thought she did.
The essential condition | for a study of Milton ...
an in depth study of Milton ...
A momentary sensation | of an embrace!
It's not a failure, after all! | It's going to be allright.
It's still touch and go, | but it's begun. My party has begun!
Lady Rosseter. | Lady Rosseter? Who I ask can that be?
Clarissa!
Sally | That voice!
Sally Seaton.
Goodness! She didn't look like that | when she kissed me by the fountain.
How wonderful to see you! | How extraordinary to see her again!
She's older, she's happier, | but less lovely.
But, oh, how wonderful that| she's come to my party.
Sally, I've been thinking about | Bordon all day.
Have you? Have you?
The Prime Minister.
Oh, my goodness, Sally, I must go. | Where's Richard?
Sorry, Ellie. | Duty calls.
How delightful to see you.
Unfortunately, my | wife could not come.
The Prime Minister!
It is the Prime Minister.
Clarissa is looking well, |considering how ill she's been.
I know that Richard was very | worried about her.
M.P.'s wives |really shouldn't get ill.
I believe it was her heart.
I think you can always pull yourself together. | Mind of a matter.
Harry Audle. |You painted your wife. Lovely picture.
Peter!
Peter Walsh!
Good Lord! Sally Seaton. | Lady Rosseter now.
Don't be absurd. | It's true. Lady Rosseter.
We live in Manchester |and I have five ennormous boys.
Either my eyes are deceiving me, | or that's Ellie Henderson?
It's our old vicar's daughter. | She's gaping at the Prime Minister.
Oh, do bring her over, | before she disgraces herself ...
and faints with astonishment.
Mr. Prime Minister, how nice to see you. | What would you like?
She's always looked delicate to me. | But such charm.
Richard would've done a great deal better, |if he'd married a woman ...
with less charm and more backbone. | It would've helped him in his work.
He's lost his chance in the Cabinet.
Lady Bruton and Lady Beckford.
What a pleasure to see you.
Lord, what snobbs the english are!
How they love dressing up | and doing homage. Listen to them!
I'd better have baboons chattering| and coolies beat their wives.
Still the same old Peter. | Still playing with your pocket knife.
It is delicious, isn't it?
We are not all the same, Peter. | My husband may have his own cotton mill now,
but he was a miner's son| and when he...
Oh, look! Look! | Isn't that Hugh Whitbread?
What a toady! | What an obsequious toady!
He's not changed at all.
How can she bear him?
It still makes you angry!
Look at her. Intoxicated, |while they all're thinking she's brilliant.
Don't be too hard on her. | After all, parties are a kind of performance.
She has to give a performance. | It isn't the real Clarissa.
The real Clarissa was lost | years ago.
Mr. Prime Minister, can I | introduce our daughter.
I'm sure, if you were alone | with her, you'll find the old Clarissa again.
Fat chance of that this evening!
Richard so enjoyed your lunch and party.
Richard was most encouraging. | And he's promised to drop my little idea ...
into the right ear.
He and the Prime Minister | are having a quiet word now before he leaves.
My plan will save | the government a fortune.
Maybe Richard is sowing | the seeds this very minute.
Isn't that Peter Walsh | talking to old Mrs. Perry?
Yes, that's Peter.
Dear Peter. | So very sharp and clever...
sure had made a name for himself. But | he's allways in some trouble with women.
Do come and say hello to him!
Now, Peter, we can get it straight| from the horse's mouth.
What is going on in India?
Well, great deal, Lady Bruton. | Is a very complex issue.
It is a tragedy.
If my father, the general, | would be alive, he'll sort it out.
Hay, Mrs. Perry.
Clarissa, I must speak with you, please ...
Peter, I must go and deal |with Sir William and Lady Bradshaw.
Will talk later. | I promise.
Awfully good of you to come.
We are shockingly late. | We hardly dared to come in.
We couldn't resist the temptation.
But a rather sad occurrence held us up. | A young patient of mine killed himself.
Really, Richard, there must be | some provision ...
in the government's bill for |this cases of delayed shell shock.
Yes, poor young man. |Awarded for bravery during the war.
And than this evening he just throws himself| out of the window. Impaled on the railings.
It's quite upset William.
She looks like a sea lion | barking at me.
Dear William. He does so hate | losing a patient.
When a young man's body is blown appart, | he loses an arm or a leg ...
or half of face, | as we've seen so often it.
It's immediate.
Stop it! Stop it! Don't talk of death | in the middle of my party!
I don't like you. | I've never liked you.
You're obscurely evil.
And the poor creature will either survive or he won't,| but we all know ...
and we do our best for him.
A young man came to you |on the edge of insanity...
and you forced his soul ...
made his life intolerable | and he killed himself.
Stucked there with lobs... It's frightful... | Every single mother does everything ...
If you'll excuse me, | lady Bradshaw ...
I have to ... | Alice!
The problem is that politicians | are not really ...
very interested in shell shock. |This is it. This is exactly it.
Hello, Henry, Eleonore. | Delightful to see you.
I see that sir William Bradshaw | is just arrived.
I think it would be most useful to bring him in | on your emigration scheme.
I know he's treating many of this fellows| from shell shock or whatever.
I'm sure, he'll think it's a good idea |to get some of them to Canada.
Open air life and all that... |excellent for mental disturbance.
What a good idea, Hugh.
She's disappeared.
Do you think she went upstairs? |She can't have gone to bed, can't she?
No. She couldn't leave | her own party.
I don't know. I don't know.| I didn't know she'd been ill.
Stop worrying, Peter.
He threw himself out of the window | and impaled himself on the railings.
Up flashed the ground | and through him ...
blundering and bruising | went the rusty spikes ...
and there he lay with a tut... tut! tut!|in his brain.
and then | a suffocation of blackness.
Why? Why did he do it?
Why did the Bradshaws talked | of it at my party?
He's thrown it all away. His life. | Just like that.
I once throw a shelling | into the serpentine.
But his thrown his life away.
You were going to write, | I remember.
Have you written anything?
Not a word.
Not a solitary word.
But then he will| always stay young.
All day long I've been thinking |of Bordon, of Peter and Sally.
We've grown old.
We'll grow older.
Have I lost the thing| that mattered?
Let it get obscured, | gradually...
every day in corruption, | lies and chatter?
Do you remember the night | we went boating on the lake?
Yes, I remember thinking: | "She's abandoned me."
And then, all of the sudden, she was there, |with her hand stretched out ...
looking utterly beautiful, saying: | "Come on, come on.
They're all waiting. "
Why wouldn't she marry me, | Sally?
She was afraid.
Your parents just handed to you, | LIFE...
to be lived right through to the end.
We must walk it |serenely.
But in the depths of my heart, | there's been an awful fear ...
sometimes that | I couldn't go on ...
without Richard, sitting there|calmly reading the Times ...
while I crouched like a bird|and gradually revived.
I might have perished.
I looked across the room | and wondered - "Who's that lovely girl?"
And then I realized: | "That's my daughter."
Maybe she needed someone| who found life simple.
She certainly cared for you, | more than she cared for Richard.
Oh, my life isn't simple.
My relationship with her| wasn't simple.
She broke my heart.
And you can't love like that | twice.
What makes us go on?
What sends roaring | up in us ...
that immeasurable delight| to surprise us?
Than nothing can be |slow enough...
nothing lasts to long.
You want to say to each moment: | "Stay!" "Stay!"
"Stay!"
I cherrish the friendship| I had with Clarissa.
There was something pure about her.
She had such charm, | such generosity.
I can see her to this day, going | bye the house all in white.
She always seemed to be in white |and her arms were full of flowers.
And I wondered ...
does absence really matter?
Does distance?
You'll think me sentimental | and so I am ...
but I've come to believe that the only | thing worth saying is what you really feel.
But I don't know what I feel.
I know that I loved her once | and that it stayed with me all my life ...
and colored everything.
I must go back to my party. |To Sally and Peter.
That young man killed himself, | but I don't pity him.
I'm somehow glad he could do it, |throw it away.
It's made me feel the beauty, | somehow feel ...
very like him, less afraid.
I have to go.
Do you think he's made her happy? | Who can tell, Peter?
All our relationships are | just scratches on the surface.
We tought he wasn't | very bright.
But what does the brain matter?
Compared to the heart.
There you are.
Peter and Sally haven't left, have they? | Don't know.
Clarissa!
I couldn't leave without |saying goodbye.
And you can't leave, | until you danced with me.
Peter's in the library.
Here I am, at last.