All language subtitles for Escape Me Never (Peter Godfrey, 1947)

And here we are,
ladies and gentlemen,

in 1900, standing on
the very spot

where Desdemona first met
Othello many centuries ago.

Venice, queen of the Adriatic.

Venice, the city of silence.

That cannon,
ladies and gentlemen,

is fired off every day

to indicate the noon hour.

Every day in Venice at noon,
you hear, boom.

In Venice, there are 177 canals

measuring 28 miles,

and there are 156 bridges

connecting 114 islands.

And there is the great
Church of St. Mark.

The Church of St. Mark
was begun in 830,

but was not finished
until the 15th century.

There are more than
500 marble columns

in the Church of St. Mark.

The mosaic work covers an area

of 45,970 square feet,

and the interior is completely
produced and decorated...

Are you finished, Caryl?
Yes. Until 7:00.

You're a darling
to have waited so long.

I didn't mind.

You know, you must be made
of strawberry ices.

Oh, did you ask Ilanti

for an increase in salary?

Yes. And he said no.

Then you shouldn't
be working here.

Darling, you're a genius.

Oh, please don't say that,
Fenella.

I'm not a genius.

If you persist in thinking I am,

you're going to be
terribly disappointed.

Photographs of the big
fair and party, friends,

celebrating the opening
of the 20th century.

Photograph?
No, thank you.

I've got an idea.

Why don't you give a concert
of your own in a hall?

That's what I want to do,
but that takes money.

Don't you know
some rich person
who'd sponsor you?

Even if I did, he mightn't
consider me a good investment.

Oh, silly, you'd be
a wonderful investment.

Caryl Dubrok, the son of the
great composer, Alfred Dubrok.

Why, any sensible sponsor
would jump at the chance.

Grazie mille.

I know.
Professor Heinrich.

Professor Heinrich?
Of course.

Why didn't we think
of him before?

Professor Heinrich
is not only your friend.

He was your father's as well.

I'll ask him to arrange
a concert for you.

He's at home now.
No, I'm sure

he wouldn't consider me
talented enough to bother with.

He'd be embarrassed,
and so would I.

Very well, if you want
to be stubborn.

I'm not stubborn, Fenella.
It's simply a case of...

Then there's only one thing
left for us to do,

and that is to get married.

Married?
Of course.

Papa and Mama
know we're in love.

And our marriage
would solve everything.

How?
Don't be silly.

The MacLean money
and the Dubrok genius.

No. No, Fenella.

Caryl?
What, darling?

Don't you want us to be married?

You know I do, Fenella,

more than anything in the world.

That's why I'm saving my money.

In a year's time,
I'll have saved enough

to give a concert in Milan.

Then if I'm a success, we...

look here, though, I shan't
be able to save anything

if we always ride in gondolas.

I mean, wouldn't we get to your
house sooner if we walked?

The canal is so roundabout.

I don't wanna get home
sooner, as you put it.

This is Wednesday, you know.

Wednesday?
Yes.

That's why I don't
wanna go home early.

I don't understand.

Well, I, Fenella MacLean,
am at present residing

in the Neroni Palace in Venice,

which is a famous city of Italy.

All of Venice is famous,

and the Neroni Palace
is especially famous.

It's very old and smelly.

It contains on the lower floor

priceless paintings
and frescoes.

The MacLeans occupy quarters
on the second floor.

And on Wednesdays,
the public is admitted

to the art treasures
of the palace.

Little barbarians.

Giggling females.

Good afternoon, Herr Heinrich.

Good afternoon.

My dear.

This schoolgirl visitation
gets worse every week.

The place is fairly swarming
with the little wretches.

But it does give the palace
a certain atmosphere.

You must admit that, Ivor.

I don't want atmosphere.
I want peace.

Here, darling, drink your tea.

And your rehearsals,
Herr Heinrich,

are they going well?

Rather well, yes.

But I miss my own orchestra.

It will be a relief
to get back to London.

Let me go.
Let me go.

Let me go, or I'll crack
your shins for you.

Let me go.

Giuseppe, who is that
young person?

It's a thief, Signor MacLean.

We found her
in the Signorina's bedroom.

A thief, huh? Bring her in.

Don't. Let me alone.
Let me alone.

MR. MacLEAN:
Giuseppe, you may
wait outside.

MRS. MacLEAN: Oh, stop her.
She'll jump in the canal.

Yes, I will if you
don't let me alone,

you ninnies.

Why all the fuss?
I'm no thief.

MR. MacLEAN: Then
what were you doing
in my daughter's room?

Oh, was it your daughter's?

She has a lot of clothes,
hasn't she?

Well?

I was hiding.

Hiding? From whom?

The schoolgirls.

Then the teachers
began to call roll,

and I had to skip.

You see, I'm not a schoolgirl.

MRS. MacLEAN:
But why did you
join them at all?

To get something to eat.

To eat?
Yes.

You see, it's this way.

These school groups
visit the museums

and stuffy old places like this,

then afterward,
they go to a shop for tea,

and then I go along
and eat with them

if they don't find me out first.

It's a good arrangement.

Works out very well, generally.

But you mean you've done this
sort of thing before?

I do it all the time.

But that's stealing.

A-ha.

Someone has been cheating
at solitaire.

There's a red eight on
a red nine.

Cheating a bit at solitaire is
quite different from stealing,

my girl.
Yes, it is.

You have no need to cheat
at cards.

But sometimes,
I do have to steal food.

Oh, hello.

So, your present costume
was merely put on

for the occasion, right?

You are a clever
old verwandte, aren't you?

What does she mean, verwandte?

It's difficult to translate,
fortunately.

Young woman,
I shall call the police

unless you confine
yourself to English,

and sensible English at that.

If you call the police,

I shall tell them
you cheat at solitaire.

Now, then, what is your name?

Gemma.

MR. MacLEAN:
Gemma what?

Gemma Smith.

You don't like Smith?

Then my name is
Gemma Porloniovsky.

However, it's really Smith.

MRS. MacLEAN:
But you're English.

I was born of an English father
and a Hungarian mother

on a Dutch ship
on the high seas.

But as soon as we made port,
they put my father in prison.

For fathering you?

No, for killing a man.

What?
Yes.

And later on, my mother
committed suicide.

And then?

Oh, nothing much.

Grew up with relatives
of my mother.

Decided I didn't care
for them and ran away.

But how did you get to Venice?

On a wine cart from Padua,

but the driver
wasn't a nice man.

And as soon as we came
to the edge of the city,
he kicked me off.

And in Venice, what did you do?

I went to a hospital, free one.

MRS. MacLEAN:
Oh, were you ill?

No. No, I felt fine.

But I was having a baby.

Perhaps you would like me
to tell you about it, huh?

Thank you.
We shan't go into that.

Oh, but the baby is wonderful.

I call him Piccolo
because he is so little.

This, uh, child,
did it have a father?

What do you think?

Certainly, it did.

The father was my husband
for a while.

He is dead now.

Oh, dear.

Yes.

Well, that's about all,

Venice, a baby,

me discharged from the hospital
with no strength in my bones

and no money in my stocking.

But it all came out all right.

I'm like a cat.
I always land on my feet.

You know, inside of a day,
I fainted in the street,

and there my friend found me.

The baby and I are staying
with him for the moment.

And this friend
of yours, is he...

Oh, no, no.
He has no money either.

That's why I go about
with the schools,
to get food for us.

This so-called friend,
who is he?

Young musician.
His name is Dubrok.

MRS. MacLEAN
Oh.

Yes, he's the son
of Albert Dubrok, the composer.

A famous father, but the son,

well, a much smaller
bush if you ask me.

However, he might...
You may go.

You mean it?

I do, indeed.

Please go at once.

Oh, all right.

Arrivederci.

Thank heavens Fenella
wasn't here.

By the way, where is she?

She... she's out
with Mr. Dubrok.

Oh, hello, everybody.

I have news for you.

Oh, I'm so glad you're here,
Professor Heinrich.

Oh, darling.
Mama.

Papa.
Fenella, listen to me.

No, you listen to me, Papa.

I have a wonderful surprise,
and it won't keep.

I'm going to marry Caryl Dubrok.

Great Scott.
What did you say?

She said she's going to marry
Caryl Dubrok.

Oh, no, darling.
You couldn't possibly.

The fellow's a scoundrel.
We're leaving Venice at once.

MR. MacLEAN:
It's just as well.

One can't trust it.

You know, the whole idea
of catching a train
in a boat is ridiculous.

I can't get used to it.

Fenella, I...
what's happening?

Are your parents going away?

Yes. And I'm going with them.
You're what?

MR. MacLEAN:
Fenella, come along.

I can't marry you, Caryl.

But why not?

Because of Gemma.

Gemma?

Gemma?

But who is Gemma?

Ask Professor Heinrich.

Fenella, please wait a moment.

I... really,
I don't know any Gemma.

I've never even heard
of such a person.

You've got to believe me.

Fenella.

Look, Professor,
I don't know any Gemma.

I've never even heard
of such a person.

You've got to believe me.

I do.
The trouble is the MacLeans

prefer to believe Gemma.

That's why they are taking their
daughter out to the Dolomites.

The parents would have objected
to you in any case.

They don't like musicians.

Musicians are not practical.

They don't make money.

But Fenella doesn't
care about money.

Rich people
are always saying that,

but they don't really mean it.

Which way, Signore?

- Diritto.
- Diritto? Bene.

Listen.

Oh, it's an original tune
and rather diverting.

Why, that's one
of my father's things,

and that concertina's mine.

It is your concertina?

Yes, I loaned it to Sebastian
in Milan last year.

Don't you see? That must
be my brother Sebastian

playing the concertina up there.

Gondolier, stop.

The music's coming
from that upper window,

the one with the white rags
hanging out over the ledge.

Your so-called white rags

are baby napkins,
my young friend.

What do you mean?

They're Gemma's.

Gemma, huh?

Piccolo, there is positively
no boy soprano part

in this composition, so shut up.

Thank you.

I knew it.

Oh, hello.
Look here, Sebastian...

I'm glad you dropped in.
There's something I want
you to hear.

I've got something
I want you to hear. Listen.

You've upset my applecart
again, haven't you?

Have I?

It must be
a very poorly balanced

applecart to upset so easily.

Besides, how could I?

I haven't seen you since Milan.

Do you know a girl named Gemma?

Gemma, also her brat.

He's a cute
little fella, isn't he?

Mm-hmm.

Oh, no, thanks.

I create music. It's Gemma's.

Would you be so kind as
to explain who Gemma is?

Certainly. I found
her wandering around

in the streets one day, sort of
starving and so on, you know,

so I thought the only
humane thing to do

was to take her in, so I did.

Very noble of you.

It certainly was, considering
the state of my finances.

Um, by the way...

Not a lira.

Loaning you money is like
feeding straws to a fire.

What's that you're whistling?

It's a little song I'm writing.

Gemma has got
a pretty nice voice.

I thought she might
sing it someday.

Here, take a look.

"Escape Me Never."

Mm-hmm. Words by Browning,

with slight additions
by Sebastian Dubrok.

* Escape me never
my beloved... *

* While I am I... *

* ...And you are you *

Of course, I'm not
letting Gemma know

she's got voice
enough to sing it.

You know how women are.
Once they begin to think
they're important,

they get absolutely out of hand.

Oh, from what
I've heard of Gemma,

she's already out of hand.

Why? Do you know her?

No. But she forced her way

into the Neroni Palace
yesterday,

and the palace happens
to be in the residence
of some friends of mine,

Mr. and Mrs. MacLean,
and Miss MacLean.

And your precious Gemma
told them she was living

with a musician named Dubrok.

So, naturally,
they assumed it was me.

They... oh...

they thought I...
oh...

Oh, shut up.

Oh, that's very funny.

Hey, Gemma.

Signore.

Oh, is your name Gemma?
If it is, you've put on
a bit of weight.

Gemma.

Yeah?

Huh?

Come on up.
Something's happened.

Come on up quick.

I'll be there in a minute.

All right, everybody
to the fountain.

I'm in a hurry. Come on.

You must go now, Signorina.

Maybe someday,
you will not have to go.

That would be nice.

All of us here
feel the same way.

I know, I'm older
than you and I'm fat,

but perhaps,
there's other things.

If you were my wife,

you will have all
the bread you want to eat

and love and five little ones.

You think five is too many?

Ah, but everybody
must have at least

five to be happy.

You marry me and you
get five all at once

without no trouble, huh?

Oh, Signorina, if you could...

Dino, we talk about
it later, huh?

Antonino.

Up.

Ah, thank you, Antonino.
Thank you.

Piccolo.

Don't worry.
Nothing wrong with him.

Gemma, hey.

Hmm?
Behold my brother, Caryl.

Oh, the fool of the family, huh?

Ah, but he's in trouble.

You remember that palazzo you
went barging into yesterday?

Mm-hmm. What about it?

The family are friends
of Caryl's.

Ahem, especially the daughter.

You have no right
to laugh at Fenella.
You've never even seen her.

Nevertheless, I know exactly
what she's like.

She's the kind that is
always taking cold baths.

And she's frightfully
keen on croquet,

you know, and the only perfume
she ever uses is cologne water.

Why don't you be quiet?

But she has nice gloves,
just my size.

You stole those gloves
from Fenella.

Of course.
And what if I did?

Give them to me.
No. You try and get them.

No.

You know... I like you.

Well, I don't like you.

How Sebastian can stand
having you around, I can't,
for the life of me see.

I am going.

Wait.

Is she really your sweetheart?

She was until you spoiled it.

Aw.

I'm sorry.

I had no idea you were
more than friends with her.

I shouldn't have laughed
a moment ago.

Why don't you just
go to this Fenella

and knock some sense into her?

Being a woman, she'll
love you all the more.

She's gone.

Left Venice, you mean?
Yes.

But where did she go?

To the Dolomites.
Well, what will you do?

I'm gonna find her and tell her

about you and Sebastian.

Bravo. That's the stuff,
and I'll go with you.

Oh, no, you won't.

Well, you better not go alone.

I know women.
She'll never believe you.

You need a witness.

The Dolomites, yes.

We'll take my concertina
and set out immediately.

We'll cross valleys,
climb mountains,

sing for our supper in every
swank hotel until you find her.

What do you say?
But it's not the way to do it.

It's not dignified.

Digni...

Oh. If she had wanted
someone dignified,

she could have had her
pick of them at home.

But, no, she took you

because you are the opposite
sort of person

her parents would have
chosen for her.

Besides, think how
pleased she'll be

to have you come after her.

That's what
a woman really wants,

to be needed, pursued,
made to feel that she's...

Oh, what do you know about it?

I need a holiday,
and the Dolomites

are just the place for it.

So, stop grumbling.
It's all settled.

Very well. Come along

if you've got the money
for your train fare.

Train fare? What do we need
train fare for?

We're going a piedi,
on foot, shanks' mare.

What's the matter with you?
Can't you walk?

Are you a cripple?

All right.
Good.

Oh, yes, it'll be wonderful.

We'll eat wild strawberries
with our lunch

and sit under the pine
trees when we are tired

and pick edelweiss
and alpenrosen and...

But you're not coming.

Well, what I mean is

somebody's got to stay here
and take care of Piccolo.

Hmm?

After all, this jaunt of ours

might be nothing but...

well, a wild goose chase.

Be kind of hard on a baby.

Don't you think?

Caryl, what time is it?

Oh, that's the watch Father
gave you, isn't it?

Yes.

Mm-hmm. Gold, too, eh?

Oh, no, you don't.

It's the last valuable thing I
own, and I won't part with it.

What? Do you mean to tell me

that you'd allow
a miserable gold watch

to stand between
you and Fenella?

Come on, we're gonna need
a little dinero, aren't we?

I'll pawn it first thing
in the morning.

And in return, I shall bring
you together with Fenella.

You shall be wed and go to live

in a little
green-shuttered house.

Of course, there's a hitch.

You'll have to make
a living for her.

I'll expect to.

Don't worry.
She'll expect you to.

Every morning
you leave that little house,

you'll have an attaché
case full of contracts

and music, and Fenella
will be upstairs

waving goodbye to you.

And then after
you have children...

Oh, stow it.

How do you know so much
about my future?

Because I know your past.

But it'll be a pretty
good life for you.

Why wouldn't it be a good
one for you, as well?

My dear Gemma, Caryl
is the nice, dependable sort,

solid from tip to toe.

I only wish I were like him.

Hmm, I'll bet you do.

But I never shall be.

I'm what the lady poets
call a free spirit.

Meaning a selfish pig

about everything but your music.

Uh-huh. Ah, but
honest about it.

Don't you think?

Funny little codger, isn't she?

Goodbye, Gemma.

My little Piccolo,
my pupazzetto,

I still have you, haven't I?

For a while, I have.

But in a few years,
you'll grow up to be

a big, strong, handsome man,

who makes some woman
very unhappy.

Oh, so sweet.

You'll make her happy
at first, no doubt,

but in the end,
it'll be the same story.

Yes, it will.

Oh, it's all right, yes.

It's all right, Piccolo.

Yes, it's all right, my Piccolo.

I thought Piccolo oughta have
a feather to wake up with.

He gets a lot of fun out of it.

I suppose you don't like
being left behind.

I don't mind at all.

You shouldn't.

You'll be all right
here, won't you?

Perfectly.

But Dino has asked me
to marry him.

I think I'll do it.

You'll what?

Marry Dino.

What for?

Well, it would be
a very good arrangement.

I could take care
of his children,

and he could take care
of Piccolo and me.

Why, that's absolute nonsense.

I never heard anything
so ridiculous.

You ought to be pleased
to get rid of me.

Maybe I should, at that.

Very well. Then there's
nothing further to discuss.

You'll go your way,
and I'll go mine.

And we shall both be free
as we were before,

and Dino will be kind to me,

much kinder than
you've ever been.

Oh, so, he's been
kind to you, has he?

Why, that fat bread peddler.

I suppose the next thing
you'll be telling me,

he calls you his carissima.

I can hear him now,

"Ah, Signorina, I love you."

Shut your mouth.

I don't understand
your wretched Italian.

You don't? Then
I'll translate it.

"Without you, my love,

without you on my arm,

I cannot live."

Come to think of it,

you don't sing as much
through your nose

as you used to.

You might be useful.

Caryl can play the concertina,

and you and I can
do the singing.

But what would I do
with Piccolo?

Put him in an orphanage.

He's not an orphan.

Well, all right.

I can live with it.

Take him along.

The mountain air
will be good for him.

Good for you, too.

Wouldn't it?

All right.

Then it's settled.

Piccolo, Piccolo,
we are going with him, yes.

Behold, the Dolomites.

A region named for the famous
French geologist Dolomieu.

Because it was he who made
them known to the world.

I wish he'd made
them less steep.

Ha-ha.

How much farther is it
to Orzano?

Oh, about a kilometer.

Orzano tonight,
tomorrow night, Martino.

She may have left Martino.

No, Heinrich's letter said
they'd be there until Wednesday.

They might have
changed their plans.

Oh, here.

You carry Piccolo for a while.

That'll give you something
to worry about.

Great Scott, Piccolo, you're
getting heavier every day.

Naturally.

Hey, look, Sebastian, edelweiss.

Isn't it beautiful?

Mm-hmm.

She loves me.
She loves me not.

No, don't. You'll ruin it.

Oh.

Oh, come on.
You're wasting time.

We're not wasting time.
We're enjoying ourselves.

Don't tease him. He's unhappy
without his Fenella.

Well, just because he's unhappy,

he wants everybody
else to be unhappy.

Come along, Monsieur le Duc.

We have to find
Caryl's lady love.

Then he won't be so cross.
Come on.

* Come, follow,
follow, follow *

* Follow, follow, follow me *

* Come, follow, follow, follow *

* Follow, follow, follow me *

* Come, follow, follow, follow *

* Come, follow, follow me *

* Come, follow, follow, follow *

* Follow, follow, follow me *

* Come, follow, follow, follow *

* Follow, follow, follow me *

Oh, Sebastian, I think
we better find another way.

Why? Afraid of getting
your feet wet? Go on.

Wait until I take my shoes off.

You know, I think
it might be deep.

Well, you go first, then if you
sink, we'll know it is.

Come on, come on.

Come on, Monsieur le Duc.

Shove, Caryl.

Pull.

Piccolo, Piccolo.

What are you trying to do,
drown my baby?

Piccolo, oh, Piccolo.

I'm sorry, Caryl.
Does it hurt very much?

I can walk.

It can't be very far now.

I wonder if you could tell us,
how far is it to Orzano, please?

Just a few kilometers.

You'll see it around the turn.

Uh-huh. And what about
lodgings, cheap ones?

Oh, there's an inn there
that's very cheap and
also very good.

Just this side of the hotel,
Zumkefeldzen, it's called.

Well, that's very kind
of you, indeed.

And may I say that if all
the natives of the Dolomites

are as charming as you,
our travels will
be most pleasant?

Oh, for heaven's sake,
Sebastian.

Auf wiedersehen.

Auf wiedersehen.

Auf wiedersehen.

There it is, big as life
and twice as wonderful.

Hey, Caryl, take this
to the landlady

and ask her to fill it
with warm milk, huh?

All right.

Oh, don't take
that off, Sebastian.

It's his good luck charm.

This?
Mm-hmm.

Hey, be careful.
That's valuable.

Valuable?
Yes.

It's a composition, my father's.

Signed by his own hand.

Look. I could sell this
for a barrelful of money.

Well then, why don't you?

No, I'm keeping it
for something to shoot at.

Ah, he was a master
of melody, the old man.

You do better than that.
Hmm?

You're a master of everything,

but nothing ever masters you.

Miss, uh, madam, I think
it's just warm enough.

Danke schon, Frau Huber.

Take care of your knee
in a moment, Caryl.

Piccolo, look.

Hmm, pretty good

for the price.

Sebastian, better
get over to the hotel

and see if they'll let us
sing tonight, huh?

All right. Wait until
I make myself seductive.

Hmm, you must expect
the manager to be a woman.

No, but he'll probably
have a wife.

See if the hotel orchestra
will help us out.

It'll make a better concert.

That way, we can expect
a fee from the manager

on top of what we collect
from the guests.

Will you remember?
Mm-hmm.

You know, you two are lucky
to have me along.

We've landed a concert
engagement every night

since we left Venice.

Don't take all
the credit for that.

You've had to use Gemma's baby

to clinch the deal
more than once.

Well, how do I look?

Uh, like a duke in disguise.

What? Only a duke?

Wow.

Oh, yes, you better
wear this tonight.

It's quite becoming,
it makes you look
like a woman.

Well, arrivederci, children,

and don't forget to keep
the door locked,

there may be dragons
in the forest.

Let's see.

Yes, it's a bad bruise,
all right.

Gemma.

You think this is going
to be too tight, huh?

Gemma,

you really are in love
with him, aren't you?

Ah!

He's a dreadful man.

That girl we met on the bike,

he could never expect
to see her again.

Oh, but he had to spread
his charm on her

like jam on a piece of bread.

He does it all the time.

He's probably ogling some
woman at this very moment.

He just can't help it.

He's always been like that.

Now, you lie down and make
yourself comfortable.

I have to get Piccolo
ready for bed.

Women are nothing
but parsley to Sebastian.

Music, that's his meat.

I know.

That's the only thing
in this whole world

that he's really
unselfish about.

It's a pity you don't care
more for music.

But I have the baby.

You know, Caryl,

Piccolo actually belongs to me.

He's my music, hmm,
and much more wonderful

than anything Sebastian
could ever write.

I still think it's a pity

you don't care
more for his music.

What difference does it make?

Does a wife have to be...

I mean, a woman mad about the
profession of the man she loves,

is that necessary?

No, I suppose not.

I could take care of him.

Cook for him, mend,
keep him well,

see that he worked
when he should.

That's important, isn't it?

We could be happy together.

Except that it wouldn't
be fair to you.

Sebastian's wife
will have a rather

unpleasant time of it,
I imagine.

Oh, my dear Caryl,

do you expect
love to be pleasant?

Has it been pleasant for you?

Is your Fenella perfect?

Practically, yes.

Parsley.

I don't even mean
that much to him.

But... ah, but surely...

No, it's not
what you think, Caryl.

A pat on the head,
an occasional hug,

absent-minded kiss
now and then,

that's all that's ever been
between us,

and it's not enough.
I want more than that.

I want my share of love.

I want him to be my husband.

Your brother's a beast.

He seems to think I have
no feelings whatsoever,

no blood in my veins,

no need to be happy
like other women.

I hate him.

Caryl, I think you
had better stay home
tonight with that knee.

Then you can take care
of the baby for me.

All right. If you and Sebastian
can manage without me.

Of course, we can.

Piccolo,

did you hear what he said
about my dress?

You know, he's never really
noticed my clothes before.

That's because I've never
had anything stylish.

And I wouldn't
have had this time

if I hadn't bought the stuff
and made it myself.

And it'll look even better
in the moonlight,

because after the concert,
we'll walk home together,

and I'll take his arm,

and perhaps he'll say
more nice things,

but not about
my dress, about me.

Perhaps he'll even tell me
he's in love with me, huh?

We'll see you later.

Thank you.

Thank you very much,
ladies and gentlemen.

And now for your pleasure,

for your pleasure, a song.

"Love for Love."

* Promise me love for love *

* And I'm yours *

* Till the end of time *

* Love is a wondrous adventure *

* Something that
no one should miss *

* If you want me *

* Darling, take me *

* All that I ask is this *

* Give me love for love *

* Nothing more *

* Nothing less *

* Don't promise me the moon *

* Leave the stars *

* Where they are *

* Give me just your heart *

* Say it's mine *

* Only mine *

* Promise me love for love *

* And I'm yours *

* Till the end of time *

Collect now.

What?

Collect now.

But we haven't
given them a fair go.

Shouldn't we play
one or two more songs?

Go on.

Thank you.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir.

It was charming, monsieur.

Charming.

Indeed it was,
madam. Charming.

Our pleasure, I assure you.

Charming.

The manager's wife.

Of course.

Charming.

Your pleasure,
ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Madam, thank you.

Not there, the old geezer.

Oh, boy.

Thank you.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Melvin.

Thank you,

and you, madam, thank you.

Our pleasure.

Did you do well tonight?

Uh-huh.
Pretty well.

Ah, you did all right yourself.

Ha-ha-ha.

I don't just mean the money.

You were wonderful, singing.

Thank you.

You're happy tonight, huh?

Yes, I am.

And do you know something?

What?

I didn't mind your
flirting with that woman.

Me, flirting?

What woman?

The manager's wife.

Oh, the manager's wife.

We got to be nice
to people like that.

After all, our bread and butter.

Yes, I know but, Sebastian,

we wouldn't even
have to bother with them

if you'd settle down and write.

And I know you can,

really good music.

Gemma, darling,

to write really good music,

you've got to be inspired.

Inspired?

Yes. By a place,
by somebody.

Somebody?

Look, a falling star.

Make a wish.

Aw. Too late.

Yes, it generally is too late.

But if you had seen it,
what would you have wished for?

Well, what would you
have wished for?

Me? Ooh,
a nice cold glass
of beer.

How about you?

Oh, I don't know.

A pair of new shoes
or a woolly for Piccolo.

Well, if Piccolo needs
a new woolly, buy one.

We can afford it.

Thanks, Sebastian.

And Caryl,

if he'd seen that falling star,

he would've wished
for the lovely Fenella.

Oh, that reminds me.

I must collect our fee

from the hotel manager
in the morning.

Then we can go on to Martino.

Sebastian?

Hmm? Hmm?

Then we can go on to Martino.

Yes.

Did you really think my dress
looked attractive tonight?

Very, very attractive.

Maledetto.

I forgot my concertina.

Well, is that important now?

Well, certainly, it's important.

Someone might pinch it.
I better go and get it.

Look, you go along
and I'll join you, hmm?

All right?

Huh?
Go on.

Oh.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Please don't think me rude.

But I couldn't help noticing you

back there on the terrace.

I said to myself,

I've seen that face
somewhere before.

Possibly Innsbruck, was it?

I've never been
to Innsbruck.
Sorry.

Oh.

Monte Carlo, perhaps.

Don't you think this
talk of seeing me

before is a little
old-fashioned?

Frankly, yes.

Well, would you be more
willing to believe me

if I admit that I've never
seen your face before,

but once having seen it,

I had to see it again?

If I say yes,
I'd be a bit conceited,
don't you think?

No.

Really, I must be going in now,

but thank you for the
charming compliment.

Oh, please don't go,
not just yet.

I hate to repeat the obvious,

but you are beautiful.

There's something so cool
and lovely about you.

You're like...

well, you're like edelweiss.

Yes, that belongs on you.

Will you wear it?

Satisfied?

Thank you.

You know, I think every woman

is a little bit
like a flower, don't you?

Some are like roses,
some, poppies,

but you, you're like edelweiss,

preferring the mountaintops,

hard to reach.

That girl who sang, what of her?

Oh, you mean my
professional partner?

She's like a little buttercup.

You do have a way
with words, don't you?

You think so?

I think I have a way with music.

You're a very talented
fellow, aren't you?

Oh, very.

Tell me, do you like music?

I adore it.

Oh?

Good music or just concertina?

Oh, any kind that's really good,

symphony, opera.

Why?

Well, I do a bit of composing
now and then, that's all.

Really?
Uh-hmm.

How amazing.

Seeing you here
at the hotel like this,

I should never have
taken you for a composer.

Well, even composers
have to eat.

Look at that.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Yes.

Tell me about your music.

What kind of music is it?

Would I have heard it?

I'm really interested.

Do you know what you look like,

standing there in the moonlight?

A picture I once
saw in Florence
by Botticelli.

The Goddess of Spring
in the Woods, I think.

I know the one you mean,
Primavera.

That's the one.

Primavera.

What a wonderful
name for a ballet,

that's marvelous.

I can see the whole thing now,

the symbol of spring.

You, you're Primavera yourself.

I am?

Listen.

That's the theme.

Do you like it?

Oh, yes.

It must be terribly exciting

to do things like that,

be able to create
something out of the air.

I never could.

You don't need to.

Some people are born to inspire.

I really mean it.

I knew that it was
no mere coincidence

that sent me to seek
you out tonight.

Do you believe in destiny?

I don't know.

I never did until now.

I'd better get back
to the hotel.

No.

Not until you tell me your name.

Primavera.

Very well, then.

Don't go yet, Primavera.

I should.

Please.

Well, all right,

but only for a few minutes.

Can you tell me where
the manager is, please?

His office is just upstairs,
to the left.

Oh, Ms. MacLean,
if you please.

Yes.
A letter for you.

Oh.

Perhaps the one you have
been expecting.

Thank you.

Uh, Fenella.

Oh, yes?

How do you know my name?

Well, Caryl told me.

What did you say?

I'm Gemma.

What are you doing here?

I thought you were
staying in Martino.

I'm spending the
weekend with friends

if it's any of your concern.

So, you're Gemma Smith.

That's right.

I have some news for you.

Caryl is here.

What?
Yes, in Orzano.

Caryl Dubrok?

Well, do you know
any other Dubroks?

He's here with you.

In a manner of speaking, yes.

Now, listen,
I'm not Caryl's girl.

I never was.

But you told my parents...

Well, it was a bit
of a crisscross.

I meant Sebastian, not Caryl.

Sebastian?
Who is he?

Caryl's brother.

Sebastian.

I have a wonderful
surprise for you.

Fenella, this is Sebastian.

Sebastian, this is Fenella.

How do you do?

You, you're...

Sebastian, Caryl's brother.

Oh!

Another raffle card, eh?

Which is Miss MacLean's
room, please?

Number 5.

Thank you.

What do you mean by coming
into my room like this?

Sorry.
Please go.

I have nothing further
to say to you.

Oh, yes, you have.

Look, we've been hunting
for you for weeks on end.

Sleeping in the rain,

bruising our feet
on stony roads,

just because we wanted
to straighten it out

with you about Caryl and me,

and now when we do find you
and things are apparently

in a worse mess than ever,

you climb on your
high horse and--

Sebastian gave you this.

You have no right to take that.

No one has a better right.

Are you Sebastian's wife?

No.

What, then?

We belong together.

Then why did he assure me

you were only his
professional partner,

someone to sing tunes
to his concertina?

Oh, that.

What about Caryl?

Do you love him?

Certainly I do.

We were engaged to be married.

That was in Venice.

How about afterward?

Did you change toward him?

Naturally I did,

after my parents
told me about you.

Any girl would have.

No, some girls would
have believed in him

no matter what they'd heard.

But that's neither
here nor there.

Do you still love him?

I told you I did!

But did you mean it?

Get out of here.

You are mixed up.

You don't know whether it's

Caryl or his brother
you want, do you?

Well, which is it then,

Caryl or Sebastian?

Answer me.

I don't know.

Will you stop pestering me?

I tell you, I don't know.

I, I don't know.

I know.

What a pity.

Where's Caryl?

Gone to meet Fenella, I presume.

He was getting dressed
when I left the inn.

Did you tell him about you
and Fenella last night?

What would have been
the sense of that?

Well, what did you tell him?

Simply that we'd met her
in the lobby of the hotel.

I said that she
was waiting for him

in the summer pavilion.

Then you did have an
appointment with her.

Did Caryl know about that?

Of course he
didn't know about it.

And why don't you
stop badgering me?

I had no idea it was
Fenella last night.

I wonder if it would have
mattered if you had known.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Gemma,

why are you holding Piccolo
on your hip like that?

It looks like
an old sack of potatoes

you bought at the market.

Here, give him to me.

He's too heavy for you
to lug around anyway.

Now, if you'd care to listen,

I'll explain how I met
Fenella. Last night...

We haven't time to go into that.

Sebastian, I want to talk
to you very seriously.

Oh. Go ahead.

Who's stopping you?

We're leaving Orzano.

Leave--why? When?
Today.

We'd have to see a lot
of Caryl and Fenella
if we stayed on

and I think that'd be
a little embarrassing.

All right.
We'll go back to Venice.

We are not going to Venice.

What--oh.

Afraid the MacLeans might be
going back there, aren't you?

We'll go to Vienna.

I don't like Vienna.

Then we'll go to Paris.

I don't like Paris, either.

Besides, you know we
haven't got the money.

Oh, yes, we have.

I sold the concertina and...

the duke.

You--

The concertina
belonged to Caryl,

and so did half the donkey.

Well, getting rid of you and me

will be worth more to him than

a concertina and half a donkey.

Oh, why don't you stop--

Women.

I also sold your father's
autographed music.

You did what?

Sold your father's
autographed music.

Why, you...
you little runt.

You've certainly got a nerve.

Well, instead of carrying
other people's stuff around,

you should be writing
great things of your own.

Yes.

That's what I'm going to do,

beginning with Primavera.

What?

Oh, I haven't told you
about that, have I?

That's to be the
name of my ballet.

What ballet?

It's a brand-new idea,
wonderful,

symbolizing the very
spirit of Spring,

Primavera.

Listen.

Oh, I'm sorry, Gemma.

Oh, I wish we could
go away somewhere

where I could get
this down on paper

so it could be staged.

You would help me, wouldn't you?

Gemma? Hmm?

The way you always have?

Are you bawling?

If I am, it's my affair.

It's mine, too.

Sebastian, I've known a lot
of rotten people in my life,

but none the equal of you.

You lie, and cheat,

and break promises
right and left

and then think because you
put your arms around me,

everything's all right,
forgiven and forgotten.

Wait a moment, I...
You're rotten.

I say it again,
and I say it to your face.

I have a star to follow.

I've always told you
and I must follow it alone.

What you follow isn't a star,

they don't come that low.

But whatever it is, go after it.

I'm finished.

What do you mean by that?

I'm leaving you, Sebastian.

Gemma!

Gemma!

Put Piccolo down.

Put him down!

Now, come here.

You little fool.

Oh, if I could only tell you
how thoroughly I despise you,

then up and leave you,
let it be finished once
and for all.

It'll never be
finished between us.

Gemma, you know it won't.

Loving you is the
most awful thing

that has ever happened to me.

Is it?

Yes, it is.

Perhaps you're right.

Maybe you do deserve
a better man.

But I don't want
a better man, Sebastian.

I just want you.

Fenella.

Oh, Fenella, darling,
you're looking wonderful.

I've never seen you so...

so beautiful.
Thank you, Caryl.

You didn't expect me to follow
you to the Dolomites, did you?

No.

Oh, it doesn't seem any
longer than yesterday

we were sitting
in the Cafe Galante.

I feel as if--
as if there'd never been
a misunderstanding at all.

I know how you feel but...

I say, Gemma explained the
mix-up in Venice, didn't she?

Yes. She explained
very thoroughly.

Well, everything's the same

and yet everything's changed
since I saw you last.

Yes. That's what I
want to talk to you...

I have a surprise for you.

I've come round to
your way of thinking.

How do you mean?

About our getting married,
of course.

Oh, Caryl.
Yes.

I think it would be
a good thing.

And to make myself
acceptable to your parents,

I'm--I'm going to get a job.

Oh, not the sort of thing
I had in Venice

but something with a future

and, at the same time,

something which will
further my career.

I know it sounds rather vague,

but I'm positive
I can work it out.

What do you think?

Oh, I...

I don't know.

Where would you find such a job?

Oh, lots of places,
Vienna, Salzburg,

perhaps London.

Yes, London would be best,
I imagine.

My father had a great
many friends there,

music broker by the name of
Steinach, to name just one.

He'd be a good contact for me.

Would you marry me if I
had a proper job, Fenella?

Well...
I can make you happy, darling.

I know I can.

Oh, Caryl, I don't know
how to say this,

but there's something
I've got to tell you.

Last night, I...

Excuse me.

Mr. Caryl Dubrok, please?

Yes. What is it?

I have a note for you, sir.
Oh, thank you.

Excuse me.

It's from Sebastian, my brother.

Oh?
Good heavens.

He and Gemma
are leaving for London.

London?
Yes.

He intends to finish his ballet.

He says at last he's got
a name for it.

It's to be called Primavera.

Primavera.

They're getting
married right away.

Oh, that's wonderful.

Well, it's just like Sebastian,

one never knows
what to expect of him.

Now, what was it, darling?

You said you had
something to tell me.

It was nothing, nothing at all.

So, Sebastian's getting married.

Do you, Sebastian Dubrok,

take this woman. Gemma Smith,

to be your lawful wedded wife?

I do.

And do you, Gemma Smith,

take this--

And do you, Gemma Smith,

take this man, Sebastian Dubrok,

to be your lawful
wedded husband?

I do.

Then I pronounce you
man and wife.

* Won't you buy my
sweet-scented lavender? *

* There are 14 branches
for a penny *

* If you buy it once *

* You buy it twice *

* Because it makes your
clothes and handkerchiefs *

* Smell very nice *

I'll take a bunch, please.

Thank you, sir.

* Won't you buy my
sweet-scented lavender? *

Caryl.

I ought not to be glad
to see you.

You have lunch
with Sebastian
time after time

but you never once
come to visit me.

Time after time.

Only twice.

Those lunches were business.

Oh, you have a new suit.
Let me see.

My, you are turned out in style.

Look, Sebastian.

Well, I can afford it now.

My job with Steinach
pays me £200 a year

and besides that,
I get commissions.

Oh, that's wonderful.
How is Fenella?

Oh, splendid. We're planning
to be married very soon.

Well, well. Congratulations.

I'll congratulate you
if you've licked that finale.

Oh, yeah?

It looks good.

Well, now I have
a surprise for you.

Have you?
A pleasant one, I hope.

Fenella and her family are
giving a party next Friday

and you're both invited.
Oh, really?

Well, it's Fenella's
doing, actually.

She's asked Mr. Steinach
to come on the idea

that you're to play
your ballet for him.

If he likes it, he'll probably

offer to produce your Primavera.

You could use Heinrich
as conductor

and perhaps Natrova
as the prima ballerina.

That is, if we can get her.

Caryl.

Good old Caryl.
We can always
rely upon you.

Little one,
I'm going to take you
to a party, at last.

Yes. It'll be wonderful.

And if the ballet is a success,

we can all go back to Italy.

If it's a success--
confound that gas.

It's always going out.
Here. I have some change.

Oh, put it back in your pocket.
We don't need your money.

Gemma, put a shilling in
the meter will you, darling?

I don't know what
I'd do without her

and that little sewing machine.

Between the two of them,
they support the three of us.

Where is it?

Huh? Oh.

I wonder if I spent it.

Hmm, for beer.

Oh, yes. The beer.

There you are, Gemma.

Thank you, Caryl.

Well, I guess I'd
better be running along.

Oh, would you, uh, like these?

Oh, thank you, Caryl.

I have some Mexican
jumping beans.

I thought they might
amuse Piccolo.

Hmm?
They jump as soon
as they get warm.

They won't do much
jumping in here.

This place is like an icebox.

It was very thoughtful
of you, Caryl.
Piccolo will love them.

All right. I'll see
you two at the party.

If the baby is all right
and I can leave him.

Oh, he'll be all right,
just got a bit of a cold.

No, Sebastian.
Not a penny.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Gemma,
will you stop stitching
those cuffs?

You're going to sew
yourself blind.

Well, when I finish these,
I get 12 shillings.

We can use it, I imagine.

Oh, Sebastian.

Look.

A five-pound note.
Uh-huh.

Mutton chops for supper.

Did you sponge this off Caryl?

Well, what if I did?
He's solvent.
He can afford it.

And there's not gonna be
any mutton chops.

You're gonna buy yourself
a new dress for the party.

No. I can use my blue one.

Oh, no, I can't.

What? I didn't pawn
your blue dress.

No, but I did.

Oh. Well, we'll buy
a new one.

I tell you, I can borrow one
from the landlady's daughter.

That's a good idea.
Yes, the pretty one.

She's just about your size.

And by way of reward,

we shall allow her
to take care of Piccolo

while we go to the party.

You have a nerve.

Oh, go on. Hurry up.

Hurry up!

Amore mio.

It was beautiful, Sebastian.

Very good, my boy.

Thank you, Mr. Steinach.

I must talk this over
with your brother.

Fine.
Thank you, sir.

You look lovely, my dear.

You may tell the dance
orchestra to start now.

Yes, madam.

We shall have supper later.

Oh, you are very kind.

Not at all, my dear.

May I have the pleasure of
dancing with you, Mrs. Dubrok?

Oh, thank you very much.

Rather odd having
to call you missus.

You don't look to have
a husband, you know.

Oh, sometimes I wonder
if I have.

I suppose wives do wonder
about that at times.

I beg your pardon.

Oh, no, no.
It was my fault.

I don't dance very often.

I wish Fenella
didn't dance so much.

She's out practically every
night with her young man,

never spends the evening
in anymore.

Oh?

Restless sort of girl,

but marriage will settle
her, I suppose.

At least, I hope so.

Well, then why don't you
let them get married?

Huh?

Why not?

You may be right.

By Jove, yes.

I think I'll speak
to her young man about it,

tell him it's time
to dust off
the wedding bells.

I say, you're a smart
little thing, aren't you?

Oh, I wouldn't
be too sure of that.

Primavera is going to be
a marvelous success, Sebastian.

Of course, I never had
any doubts about it,

not even that first night

when you whistled
the theme for me.

Then you do remember Orzano.

Did you think I'd forgotten?

Frankly, I didn't think much
about it one way or the other.

Bad business, thinking.

What do you mean?

Simply that the worst mistake
anyone can ever make

in life is taking it seriously.

It's too unpredictable,
too haphazard.

But you're a musician,

and music is based
on order and purpose.

That's exactly
why I am a musician.

I pursue art to help me forget

that life is not worth pursuing.

Surely you believe
that it's wanting things

and getting them
that brings us happiness.

No.

Who knows what they want?

Do you?

Yes. Of course, I do.

Then you're one
of the rare exceptions,

a woman who knows
what she's after.

Not only that,

but I always get what I'm after.

You do?

Then you're a very
fortunate girl.

I don't see it that way at all.

My life is nothing
but a flat, stale vacuum.

I hate it, and I loathe it.

And if you changed it,

would it make you any happier?

Yes.

Are you sure?

You'd better be.

Once you've made the break,

it might be difficult
to get back.

But I shouldn't
want to get back.

Never?

Never.

Sebastian.

Sebastian.

Sebastian, I have a note.

Piccolo is ill.
I think we ought to go home.

Would you try and find a cab?

I'll get your things.

Well, good night.

Fenella.

Fenella, I want to talk to you.

Yes?

This is very different
from Orzano, isn't it?

You are engaged to Caryl,
and Sebastian...

Please take your foot away.

You know, you aren't the first
distraction we've had.

There have been others,

but, you see, once Sebastian

makes a conquest of this sort,
he forgets it.

You're being spiteful,

and you completely
misinterpret our relation.

Oh, do I?
Yes.

Sebastian is
going to be famous.
He's not an ordinary man.

You are so right.
He's an utterly selfish,
cold-hearted pig.

Don't you know
that he's a genius?

I ought to.
He's always telling me so.

Would you mind
my speaking frankly?

Haven't you been?

Gemma, give him up.

So that you can have him?

Yes. There's so much
I could do for him.

Just as I've already helped him.

Oh, have you?
Yes.

I gave this party so that
he could meet Steinach.

I persuaded Heinrich
to conduct his ballet.

I even inspired Sebastian

to write the ballet
in the beginning.

He got the idea for it
in Orzano the night we met.

So, you see, if you were
to give him up, I...

Don't say that again.

Very well.

But you must realize
that no woman

can hold a man like Sebastian

if he doesn't want to be held.

What do you mean by that?

Suppose he were to leave you.

Leave me?

Never.

I've got a cab at the side gate.

Thank you.

Darling, I have
good news for you.

Your father suggests we be
married early next spring.

Isn't that wonderful?

My dress is torn.
I must go in and change.

Did you tell her?

Yes.
Good. Then it's settled.

And so is your brother's ballet.

I understand.
What?

Heinrich says that they're going
to start rehearsals immediately.

No, no. That curtain
is two bars late.

All right, lads.
This is a quick change.

Now, come on, ladies.
Off the blooming stage.

Take your limes off, Fred.

Take up your tableau curtain.

Charlie, douse your foots.

Fred, turn off your limes.

Now, come on, lads.
Get a move on.

Props.

What'd you think of it?
Oh, it's splendid.

The orchestration
is very effective.

Yeah? Thanks.

Sebastian.

Five minutes, gentlemen.

I wish it were your ballet
instead of Sebastian's.

You could write a ballet

if you really applied yourself.

I told you in Venice that
I wasn't a genius, Fenella.

I had my heart set on you
doing something really
important in music.

Oh, I haven't given it up.
I've merely exchanged
composing for a--

for a steady job.

You're so utterly
different from Sebastian.

He cares nothing for money.

I wish you wouldn't keep
dragging Sebastian into this.

He has nothing to do with it.

Or has he?

Sebastian's like his father,

a great, cruel,
wind of a man that...

that no one can leave alone,

that women apparently
never want to leave alone.

I resemble our mother,
solid and proper and dull.

There are times, Caryl,

when I'm inclined
to agree with you.

Fenella.

Well?

If you have made
a mistake about us,

now is the time to say so.

Are you trying
to break our engagement?

I am, if it needs to be broken.

We can't talk here,

the next scene's about to begin.

Stop it! Stop it!

It's impossible!
It cannot be done!

But why?

You've been doing it that way
for the last 2 weeks.

Well, in short skirts, yes,

but today is the first
time in a long dress.

All right.
Change to short skirts.

How can I?

The role calls for
a long, full costume.

If anything is to be changed,

it is your music,
Monsieur Dubrok.

I hope you're not serious.

Professor Heinrich.

Madame Natrova,
if you would, perhaps.

May I make a suggestion?
Yes. What is it?

I was thinking that perhaps
something of Tchaikovsky
might be used at this point.

But Tchaikovsky,
that's wonderful.

His music is always good.

Don't you think so,
Monsieur Dubrok?

Certainly, Madam, yes.

No one appreciates
Tchaikovsky more than I,
but not in my ballet.

This is my music,
and it's going to
remain my music.

I tell you, it cannot be danced.

The tempo is too fast,
too exhausting,

and just when I must catch
my breath before the finale.

What about a slower
tempo, Sebastian?

Yes, professor.
What?

What do you want me to do,
change a Spring waltz

into some sort
of funeral dirge?
Nonsense.

I have spent weeks on my solo.

It must be done my way
or not at all.

Excuse me.

Would you tell Mr. Dubrok

I would like to speak
with him, please?

I can't go out there now, miss.

Yes, but my baby
is very sick. Please.

I'm sorry, miss.

All right.
If she can't dance it,

let's get someone who can.

People come to see Natrova,

not to listen to the music
of an unknown composer.

They'd sooner watch some
kangaroo hop around the stage.

Enough of this, both of you.

I'm finished.

We are dismissed!

We are dismissed!
Sebastian.

Don't you realize
what this will mean?

The posters are all ready.
Some of them are up.

Well, take them down, burn them,

do anything you want
with them, I don't care.

Don't argue with him.
It's useless.

Sebastian.
Hmm?

Sebastian, please
come home with me.

The baby is very sick
and I'm so frightened.

Is he? Well, get
a doctor for him.

But how can I?
We have no money.

Darling, please, please,
don't you see I've got
so much on my mind?

I've got to have time to think.

I must talk to you, Sebastian.

Caryl...

I was right, wasn't I?

That stupid, preening woman
with her ridiculous airs.

It's not the ballet I want
to discuss at the moment.

Oh? What's is it?
It's Fenella.

Fenella? Doesn't anybody
care about the music?

At least I expected you,
a musician...

You're in no position
to force issues.

You behaved like a fool.

Thanks.

Thanks very much.

Don't let them do anything
to your music, Sebastian.

Fenella. Why did you stay?

Well, I...

I thought there might be
something I can do.

Did you? How nice of you.

There isn't.

I'm not engaged
to Caryl anymore.

Oh, but that's silly.

Caryl's a wonderful fellow.
What happened?

Please let's not talk about him.

I wish I could get away.

I hate London.

So do I.

I wish I could get away
somewhere, too,

somewhere where I could
pull myself together and...

I know a place, in the country.

Do you?
Where?

Down in Kent.

It belongs to my family.

It's lovely, quiet and...

Is it?

Here we go.

He's coming now, darling.

Shh.

How is he?

Mrs. Cooper gave me
some medicine,

and he's quieter now.

That's good.
You shouldn't let it
upset you so much.

Babies always have earaches
or something like that.

Sorry I blew up
like that at rehearsal.

Oh, that's all right.
Now that you're home,

I'm not so frightened.

That's the last time
I'll ever write
a ballet, I swear.

But, Sebastian,
there's money in it.

And when they do
pay you for the ballet,

do you think we could
use some of it for--

well, to get some warm
things for Piccolo?

He just can't stand
this cold climate.

Fat chance there is of them
paying me anything.

You mean they won't pay you?

Oh, but, Sebastian,
that can't be.

After what happened
this afternoon,

the ballet might
not go on at all.

Oh, don't worry about it,

something will turn up,
it always does.

I wonder.

I had to do it.

There comes a point
when one more compromise

would have ruined the music.

That point was reached
this afternoon.

Well, that's that.
No ballet, no money.

Money's not that important.

Not to you, perhaps.

What do you want
me to do, hack work?

If so, you're going to
be very disappointed.

You always seem
to be complaining.

Because I don't make you
a fortune, I suppose.

Oh, it isn't that, Sebastian.

The baby's sick, and I'm...

I'm tired.
I know.

And I don't consider a shilling

for the gas meter a fortune.

What are you doing
with those clothes?

I've got to go down
to Surrey tonight.
Why?

To see Natrova,
make her listen to reason.

She's down there,
staying with friends.

But you said everything was over
with the ballet and finished.

Exactly. That's why I have
to go down and see her.

You said yourself you wanted
the ballet to go on, didn't you?

Don't lie to me, Sebastian.

You're not going down
there to talk to Natrova.
I know you too well.

What do you mean by that?
You know exactly
what I mean.

No, I don't, but I do
know one thing.

I'm getting out of here.
So you were going down

This constant bickering about.
to Surrey to talk to Natrova,

were you?
Yes, I was.

You liar!

I know who you were
going to see.

Fenella, and don't
try to deny it.

Well, go on.
Get out of here.

I don't need you.
Go to her.

Let her tell you
what a genius you are.

Wait a minute. You'll ruin
that, you little fool.

That's yours as much
as it is mine.

Mine?
It's never been mine.

It belongs to Fenella.
You wrote it for her.

That night in Orzano, you got

the idea for it, remember?

Well, go on. Take your
precious ballet to her.

And I hope I never
set eyes on it,

or you again, as long as I live.

You mean that?
Yes.

Yes, I do.
Now, get out of here.

Get out.

Get out!

Who is it?
Caryl.

Oh.

Caryl, would you mind
putting a shilling

in the gas meter, please?

Where's Sebastian?

He's gone.

When will he be back?

He won't.

I'm sorry, Gemma.

What was it you wanted
to talk to him about?

Fenella and I have
broken our engagement.

Oh.

Piccolo. Piccolo.

Darling.

Oh, Caryl.

Mrs. Cooper. Mrs. Cooper.

Yes, what is it?

Please, Piccolo,
he's terribly sick.
I know he is.

Would you try and do something?

Do you think a little warm oil

in his hair might help?

I think you ought
to take him
to the hospital, ducky.

They'd know what to
do with him there.

That sounds like
good advice, Gemma.

Yes, but I'd have to stay
there with him.

You see, he just
couldn't stand it

with a lot of strange people.

Oh, don't worry.
I'll go with you.

Nothing could
happen to him,
could it, Caryl?

He's so little.
It just wouldn't be fair.

Thank you, Mrs. Cooper.

He's quiet now.

Do you think he's
a little better?

You should have
brought him sooner.

Oh, yes, I know. But you
see, we didn't have...

There's nothing we can do now.

Well, then give
him back to me.
I will take care of him.

It's too late.

No.
That's a lie,

a dirty hospital lie.

Give him back to me.

Give him back to me,
do you hear?

That's a lie.

Give him back to me.

It's a lie.
It's a lie!

He'll be all right, Caryl.

He'll be all right.

It's just this awful
English weather.

As soon as he gets better,

I'm going to take
him back to Italy,
where there's sun.

That's all he needs,

because back in Italy,
he was well and...

happy all the time.

And in Venice he was...

In Venice he was...

Come on. Let me
buy you a cup of coffee.

You're...
you're cold.

A cup of coffee, please.

Here you are, sir.

You know, back in Venice,

I was gonna marry Dino.

Dino was a baker.

We would have had all
the bread we needed.

Caryl, you must marry.

You must marry Fenella,
and be very happy,

and live in a little warm house,

and every morning
when you go to work,

you will leave
your little house,

and you will have
an attaché case

full of music and contracts,

and Fenella will wave goodbye
to you from the window.

Please, Gemma.
Oh, Caryl.

Please don't let her go.
Bring her back.

Marry her and never leave her

because people
have to be families.

There has to be
a mother and a father,

and the father has
to go to work,

and the children go to school

and then the children
come home, and they play.

Oh, Piccolo.

Piccolo.

Gemma!

Gemma!

Gemma!

Gemma, come back.

Two bottles?

Two people.

Oh, not tonight.

Hey, I'll be needing that.

Tonight's too precious.

Later on, you'll bring
me back that bottle

with your own little hands.

Oh? Why should I?

You'll see.

To us.
All the people
who like us,

and all the ones who don't.

Drink up.
It'll help.

Nonsense.

Well, it was so cold and strange

on the way down here.

Let's go sit by the fire.

Yes, it's burning
nicely, isn't it?

What do you see in the fire?

Coal.

Oh, don't you see us?

I do, the way we're going to be.

Perhaps in this very house.

It'll be mine one day, you know.

Will it?

Nice parties,

rooms full of flowers and music,

nice people.
Oh, nice.

Will you stop using
that stupid word?

I'm sorry.
I didn't mean
it, darling.

Oh, everything's going to
be wonderful, isn't it?

Mm-hmm.

No more poverty for you,

no worry, no Gemma.

Let's leave Gemma out of it.

Out of it?
Of course.

I quite like Gemma.

I think she has
a lot of good in her.

Some of these girls have.

What girls?

Well, her sort.

Father says that every genius

has some little creature
like that in his past,

because when he's
starving in a garret,

he has to have someone cheap.

Of course, they don't
understand about his...

art or his career,
but they're useful.

Useful.

Loyal.

Unselfish.

Forgiving.

Why are you doing them up again?

Because I'm taking
you home, my dear.

So.

You're angry.
No.

Grateful.

Look at me.

Even the most selfish
pig may have--

may have something
he won't face,

even though--
even though it's
the only decent thing

that ever happened to him.

I was afraid, that's it.

I was afraid to admit
what Gemma meant to me

because, I suppose,
I wanted to go on

being a selfish pig.

Sebastian, you mean you
brought me down here...

And that's the luckiest thing

that ever happened to you,

because I'm taking
you back to Caryl.

Caryl, he's your kind of man.

And Gemma,
Gemma's my kind of woman.

Look, Fenella,
you're a sensible girl.

What you want is
a nice marriage,
a nice husband.

Now you're using that word nice.

I'll give it to you
for a wedding present.

Friends?

Please?

Good friends.

Where's Gemma?

She's gone.

The baby died while
you and Fenella...

Good evening.

It's going to be a great
success, Sebastian.

Any word from her?

Nothing.
I've looked over London.

I'm so sorry.

Good luck tonight.

Gemma!

Gemma!

Gemma.

I hoped you'd come.

I don't want to talk to you.

Please.
They're going to start.

Let me go. Let me go!

Gemma!

Gemma, wait.

Please.

Gemma, I don't know what to say.

Say nothing.
It's better.

I didn't know about Piccolo.

Don't tell me you're
sorry, Sebastian.

Be like you always were,
not sorry about anything.

I wasn't gonna say
that I'm sorry.

That's such a--
such a small word.

It's so easy
for people to be sorry,

but no one can tell what
it means to a mother to...

to lose a child,

because she's the only
who understands,

who can imagine the kind of man

he was going to grow up to be.

I loved the little
fellow, too, Gemma,
in my own way.

Oh, Sebastian.

Listen.

Your music.

Yours, too.

I could never have
written it without you.

You know that, don't you?

No, don't lie to me,
not at a time like this.

I'm not.

Look.

I wrote it for you
long ago in Venice.

It's your song.

You're hurt.

When we get home, I'll...

I'll try to change.

Perhaps in time,
I'll be a better man.

But I don't want
a better man, Sebastian.

I just want you.