All language subtitles for The Barchester Chronicles (1982) EP4.EN

'My dear Mr Harding,
will you favour me by calling on me

'at the palace tomorrow at 9:30am?

'The bishop wishes me to speak to you
touching the hospital.

'Please excuse my naming so early
an hour, my time is greatly occupied.

'You will perhaps
let me have a note in reply.

'Believe me to be, my dear Mr Harding,

'your assured friend, Obadiah Slope. '

'I will call at the palace
tomorrow at 9:30am, as you desire.

'Truly yours, S Harding. '

My apologies for the delay, Mr Harding.

I realise your time is greatly occupied.

- Diocesan duties.
- Of course.

About the hospital, Mr Harding. The
position of warden is to be filled again.

- The bishop indicated that to me.
- The income will be reduced,

L450 per annum instead of 800.

It's still a perfectly satisfactory income.

There will be additional duties.

Additional duties and responsibilities.

The house will remain to the warden.

However, the bishop feels -
and I agree with him -

that the warden should paint the inside
of the house every seven years

and the outside every three years.

That will be a stipulation, I fancy.

As to the additional duties,

hitherto, there can hardly be said
to have been any duties.

I think I've fulfilled the duties,
such as they were,

to the satisfaction of the late bishop,
even though they were not stipulated.

You must be aware, Mr Harding,

things are a good deal
changed in Barchester.

I am aware of that, Mr Slope.

And in the world at large.

New men are carrying out new measures,

casting away the useless rubbish
of past centuries.

Work is required from every man
that receives wages

and they that superintend
doing of work and paying of wages

have to see that this rule is carried out.

New men are needed in this new world

and believe me, they are forthcoming in
the Church of England as elsewhere.

Perhaps the bishop will prefer
a new man at the hospital.

By no means. The bishop is anxious that
you should accept the appointment.

But he is equally anxious,
and I agree with him,

that you should understand
the required duties.

In the first place,

a Sabbath day school
will be attached to the hospital.

A Sunday school? For the old men?

Oh, no, not for the old men,

but for the children of the poor
of Barchester such as it may suit.

The bishop will expect you
to attend the school

and the teachers shall be
under your inspection and care.

As to the old men and the old women,

who are to form part of the hospital
under the act of Parliament,

there will be two services every Sabbath

and one weekday service.
You shall preach on Sundays

and the hospital will be collected daily
for morning and evening prayer.

It will no longer be necessary
to reserve separate seats

for the hospital inmates in the cathedral.

But my old men have always had seats
at the cathedral services.

- The bishop considers it unnecessary.
- And you agree with him?

We're dealing with old women as well.
It will be difficult to seat them all.

In any case, the cathedral service

does not appear to be the most useful
for people of that class.

We will not discuss that, if you please.

It is not a matter for discussion.

These are the bishop's wishes
for the hospital. If you are in agreement,

I will gladly confirm the appointment
on His Lordship's behalf.

Suppose I accept the appointment
but disagree with the bishop. What then?

I hope you do not.

But if I do?

I hardly expected such a line of argument
from you, Mr Harding,

or may I say, the suggestion
of such a line of conduct.

Nor did I expect such a proposition.

I shall be glad, at any rate, to know what
answer I am to give to His Lordship.

I shall take the earliest opportunity

of talking to His Lordship myself.

It is impossible that the bishop should
see every clergyman in the diocese

on every subject of patronage.

I believe he did see you on the matter.

We exchanged a few brief
and inconclusive words

at Mrs Proudie's reception.

In which case I really cannot see
why he should be troubled again.

Mr Slope, do you realise

for how many years I have officiated
as a clergyman here in Barchester?

And... and during...

during all of that time, any clergyman,

not just me, but any clergyman

was able to consult with his bishop
in matters of conscience...

at any time!

That has always been
the Barchester tradition.

Isn't it also the Barchester tradition

that many years of cathedral service
allow a man to regard as a sinecure

a situation that might, in honesty,
require somebody younger

and more active?

A new man?

- Such a thought is possible.
- Very well.

You may tell the bishop
that I would deeply appreciate

an early meeting with him, but...

if the terms of the appointment
are precisely as you have stated them,

then I have no alternative
but to decline the offer.

Good morning, Mr Slope.

And he declined
the appointment?

Categorically.

How much detail did you go into

regarding the running of the hospital?

I outlined some of the ideas we have
discussed about possible changes,

but only in very general terms.

Would it help, do you think,
if I spoke to him?

That would serve no purpose,

no purpose at all.

The man has been made
a perfectly good offer

and has chosen to decline it.

But, er... what reason did he give?

As I understand Mr Harding,

he would be happy to hold the office

providing he need not acknowledge
your jurisdiction.

Just like the whole set of them.

All of them determined to withstand
your authority at all costs.

I think they regard that,
or something very like it,

as the "Barchester tradition".

"Barchester tradition".

Certainly I must maintain
my authority in the diocese.

Indeed you must.

But I am deeply sorry about his attitude.

There is no cause for sorrow,
none whatsoever.

You must disregard Mr Harding

and appoint somebody else.

That might present one or two
small difficulties

in that there are no obvious
alternative candidates.

Mr Quiverful.

- Mr...?
- Quiverful.

The name is familiar
but I cannot quite put a face to it.

- Rector of Puddingdale.
- Oh, yes.

Quiverful, erm... A married man, is he?

- He has an excellent wife.
- And 14 children.

14? I see. Extremely married.

- Shouldn't I better speak with him?
- I suppose you had.

No question, no question at all,
and as soon as possible.

Yes, as soon as possible.

Eleanor, my dear,
you behold in front of you

the useless rubbish of past centuries.

Whatever are you talking about?

This is a new world, full of new men.

Old men like myself
belong on the rubbish cart,

along with the Barchester tradition.

- I know what the matter is.
- You do?

You've been to see Mr Slope.

- Is it so obvious?
- Yes.

He wants to turn the hospital into
a Sunday school and a preaching house.

I suppose he'll have his way.

Is there so much harm in a school?

The want of a proper schoolmaster.

- But that would be supplied.
- I would be the schoolmaster.

I'm sure Mr Slope doesn't intend that.

- When he was here yesterday...
- Slope was here yesterday?

- Yes.
- Talking about the hospital?

Yes, and how pleased the bishop would
be to see you back there again.

And about the Sunday school, too.

And indeed I said I would help
and take a class.

A new world,

full of new women...

- Did I do wrong?
- No, nothing wrong at all, my dear.

Nothing wrong in wishing
to make yourself useful.

Does he visit you regularly?

I suppose... yes.

As he does Mary, and the Stanhopes...

He enjoys ingratiating himself
with the ladies of Barchester.

More so than with the men, I imagine.

The ladies are well aware of Mr Slope.

It would be wicked of
me to think evil of him but...

I dislike his manners,

and I distrust his ambition.

But apart from those minor blemishes...

Apart from those
I suppose I don't like him very much.

But what will you do about the hospital?

I'm too old a dog to learn new tricks.

I must decline the Sunday school
and so I must decline the hospital.

Think about it carefully, Father.

I shall discuss the matter
with the Grantlys before I do anything...

anything rash.

I may drive over
to Plumstead this afternoon.

It's a lovely day,

perfect for making a new world.

Grandpa Harding,
how lovely to see you.

It's lovely to see you, children.

I'll run and tell Mama you're here.

What have you been doing today, Isabel?

Eleanor and Obadiah Slope?

How can she possibly endure him?

He's a very crafty man, my dear,

and his craft has been successful
in making Eleanor believe

that he is a meek, charitable,
good churchman.

Providing it stops there.

What do you mean?

He may have craft enough
to make Eleanor forget her true position.

Do you mean...

marry him?

What is so improbable in that?

Well...

everything.

Eleanor has over L1,000 a year

entirely at her own disposal.

What greater temptation
for a man like Obadiah Slope?

I don't believe he knows the scale of...

Eleanor's income.

That may well be so,

and we must be grateful for it.

There! Now we can
hear each other, Mr Slope.

May I offer you a glass of sherry?

Truthfully, that depends
whether you have a brand

which suits my palate, Mr Quiverful.

Ah, I only seem to have

- a somewhat modest Marsala.
- No, thank you.

Let us proceed to the business
of the afternoon.

- Is something amiss?
- Not at all.

Oh, good.

How would you react if I were to offer...
if the bishop were to offer you

the position as warden
of Hiram's Hospital?

How would I react?

I really cannot answer such a question,
it's impossible.

I am asking the question, Mr Quiverful.

I don't know what to say.

If the financial question
affects your reaction,

the position carries
an annual income of L450

in addition to your present L400 a year.

Another L450 a year?

I'm surprised at your apparent hesitation,
Mr Quiverful.

I hesitate simply because I'm...

shocked, stunned...

I never imagined such a preferment
would come my way.

- But... what about Mr Harding?
- Mr Harding?

He has been so kind and generous to me
for as many years as I can remember.

I expected he would return
to the hospital.

Mr Harding did positively
refuse the position.

Mr Harding loves the hospital
and the old men.

Alas, he did not love the conditions to
which the appointment is now subjected.

The same conditions which will
be opposed upon yourself.

I expect to work
for my additional income.

A Sabbath day school for poor children,

two services for the inmates
each Sunday,

morning and evening prayers,
one weekday service...

Splendid! The more the merrier.

More the better. You see, Mr Slope,

with my family, forgive me,
if I sound disloyal, but...

I'd welcome the peace and tranquility
of a Sunday school for the poor.

I can understand your sentiments.
Although yours are beautiful children,

and may God bless them... all.

Amen to that and thank you
for the blessing, Mr Slope.

Sometimes the noise...

Would you mind if I drank
a small glass of sherry, Mr Slope?

Not at all.

- You won't?
- No, thank you, Mr Quiverful.

I very rarely indulge but...

Well, the excitement.

Er... are you quite sure about Mr Harding?

Quite sure.
Mr Harding was quite firm in his refusal.

- Almost, dare I say, dogmatic.
- So let it be.

Whereas his daughter may well help you
with the Sunday school.

Mrs Grantly?

Not Mrs Grantly, Mrs Bold.

Oh, what a splendid
public-spirited attitude

from such a wealthy young woman.

What did you say?
Mrs Bold is a wealthy young woman?

Yes. Her late husband John Bold

was a very successful doctor
from a very good family

and there was money
from her own family, I believe.

My wife tells me she's worth every penny
of L1,200 a year.

Really?

The gospel according to Mrs Quiverful
is very reliable.

Yes, very public-spirited young woman.

Perhaps a small glass of your sherry?

He can't do it!

He assured me they were the wishes
of the bishop.

Stuff and nonsense.
Neither the chaplain nor the bishop

nor the unspeakable bishop's wife
can alter the duties of a warden.

They have no power to turn a hospital
warden into a Sunday school teacher.

But the bishop has the power
to appoint whom he chooses.

Hmph. Let him try it.

Let him appoint some spineless ninny,

and this time we'll have the press
on our side.

Proudie is a complete ass but he doesn't
want a hornet's nest of public opinion

stinging his pretty pink ears.

I... I would rather not
see my name in the Jupiter again,

even as an innocent victim.

And I begin to wonder whether Mr Slope
may be right.

Perhaps I am too old.

- Perhaps a younger man...
- You really must stop trying

to see the other fellow's point of view.

- It's your worst fault.
- Forgive me,

I was under the impression
it was a virtue.

I'll be more careful in the future.

Your plea of old age

is merely a pretence.

It confuses the issue,

and the real challenge.

I see.

What is this real challenge you speak of?

Why, destroying Slope, of course!

Ah...

You know, the fact is that you are
half afraid of the bestial Slope

and would rather subject yourself
to poverty and discomfort

than come to blows with a man
who would trample on you.

I would rather not come to blows at all,
if I could help it.

Well, quite.
But sometimes we can't help it, can we?

The man's object is to induce you
into refusing the hospital,

so that he may appoint some creature
of his own that he may show his power,

and insult us all by insulting you.

And insult the Barchester tradition.

You see, you do understand.

You have a duty to us all to resist him.

Surely you will not be so lily-livered
as to fall into his trap.

You must not let him take the very bread
from your mouth without a struggle.

I can see no true courage
in squabbling for money.

If honest men didn't squabble for money
in this wicked world of ours,

the dishonest men would get it all.

If we were to carry your argument home,

we might as well give away
the Church's every penny.

Would that strengthen
the Church? Well?

Well?

It occurs to me...

that Jesus Christ

might have approved of such a doctrine.

Jesus Christ has nothing to do with it!

- You're confusing the issue again.
- Forgive me.

We are concerned with
this trash about Sunday schools

and daily services
and sermons on the hour,

all of it invented by Slope and
Mrs Proudie behind the bishop's back.

I'm gonna speak to the bishop myself,
on his own, without those other two...

I think you'll find it will end
with his sending you the appointment

without any conditions whatsoever.

So, good. That's settled once and for all.

Children,

you are all to say thank you very much
to the good Mr Slope,

who has brought us such wonderful
and welcome news this day.

Thank you very much, Mr Slope.

God bless you, my child.

- Thank you very much, Mr Slope.
- God bless you, my child.

Thank you very much, good Mr Slope.

God bless you, my sweet child.

- Thank you very much, Mr Slop.
- Slope!

Thank you very much, Mr God.

What are you saying, child?

Suffer the little children, Mrs Quiverful.

I do.

My concern is not the hospital,
Archdeacon.

What is your concern, my dear?

Not cook again, is it?

The thought of Eleanor
marrying Mr Slope.

That is a totally unthinkable thought.

You cannot possibly be serious.

Apparently Mr Slope is very serious.

If Eleanor even considers such a thing,
I shall never speak to her again.

She dragged the family through the mire
when she married John Bold...

God rest his soul. But this!

We must not be polluted by such filth!

- Where are you going?
- I shall say additional prayers.

- Madeline's lover!
- Let me see if I recognise him.

Or even remember him.

Ah! The sublime Obadiah.

You should sell these, Bertie,
pay off some debts.

I don't think Obadiah would pay for this.
Too accurate.

But all these people have enemies.

The enemies would buy them,
if only to stick pins in them.

I'm not an artist, I'm a sculptor.

Oh-ho! You don't do much sculpting.

Who in Barchester has a head
worth reproducing in marble?

- Bertie...
- Absolutely magnificent, my dear,

- but you have no money.
- I have more debts than you.

The majority of them
don't know what a torso is,

and those that do
are ashamed to admit it.

To tell you the truth, you'll never make
a penny by any profession.

That's what I often think.

Some men have a gift for making money
but no idea how to spend it.

Others merely have a genius for outlay.

At least I have some genius.

How do you mean to live?

I'm a young raven,
looking around for heavenly manna.

We'll all get something
when Father goes.

I think we'll inherit his debts as well.

Besides, I like him.
I shall be sorry to lose him.

Would you consider marrying
a woman with money?

I certainly wouldn't marry one without.

But they aren't easy to get nowadays.
All the parsons pick them up.

- Do you have someone in mind, Lotte?
- Yes.

Marriage is the only foolish thing
you've never tried, Bertie,

you should certainly consider it.

Who is the unfortunate victim?

Mrs Bold.

A widow!

- Mrs Bold?
- A rich widow.

I'm going to marry a rich widow.
I've never done that before.

But she has a child.

- Only a very tiny one.
- A baby that will very likely die.

Oh... I wouldn't wish to kill him off.

After all, he's a ready-made son and heir.

She wears those
dreadful widow's clothes

as though they've been stuck on
with a pitchfork.

She's a very lovely woman.

Well, I find her rather... swarthy.

Madeline, you are without question
the most beautiful woman in Barchester.

That is the cornerstone of our existence.

- Certamente.
- Nonetheless,

Mrs Bold is a widow with lots of tin,

a fine baby, a beautiful complexion...

- The George and Dragon.
- The George and Dragon.

The George and Dragon?

I understand she owns the hotel
in the high street.

By Jove, Lotte,

when I marry her, I'll keep the
public house myself. Just the life for me.

If only she wouldn't wear
those dreadful widow's clothes.

It is simply the custom in England.

And they are the clothes of a rich widow.

If she were a Hindu, she'd have been
sacrificed at her husband's cremation.

It's not as bloody but it's quite as
barbarous and quite as useless.

I hate such false pretenses.

I'd let the world say what it pleased

and show no grief if I felt none.

Perhaps not show it, even if I did.

Madeline, we are in England now,

where it is hard to set oneself
in opposition to prejudices of that sort.

It's very hard for a fool not to be a fool.

I dare say she'd tie her head up in a bag
if her mother had done the same.

If I were to die, I think I should like
my widow to dress appropriately,

certainly for a little while.

Yes, and shut herself up
and weep for you

or else throw herself
on your funeral pyre,

but she might think differently.

Your death might well be a great relief.

Oh, I can easily imagine that.

You think I should not marry Mrs Bold.

Well, if she really has L1,200 a year
at her disposal,

I'd advise you to marry her.

I dare say she's to be had for the asking
and as you're not marrying for love,

it doesn't matter how she looks.

- That's dreadful!
- I don't believe even you

would be fool enough to marry for love.

- Oh, Madeline!
- And "Oh, Charlotte. "

No man can love a woman
unless he be a fool?

Very much so. Any man prepared
to sacrifice his interest

to get possession of a pretty face
is a fool.

Or else victim of mawkish sentimentality.

- But a good marriage...
- I will tell you about marriage.

Grazie, Madalena.
I'm the one planning to get married.

You both know in what way husbands
and wives generally live together.

You know what freedom
a man claims for himself

and what slavery he would exact
from his wife,

and you know how wives generally obey.

Marriage means tyranny on one side
and deceit on the other.

A man is a fool to sacrifice his interest
to such a bargain.

The tragedy is, a woman generally has
no other way of living.

Bertie has no other way of living.

Well, in God's name,
let him marry Mrs Bold.

So... I... shall. Look.

Oh!

Forsaking all other
in sickness and in health,

for richer, for richer!

My father used to love
sitting on this bench,

looking at the water,
talking to his old men.

It is very beautiful.

Do you know, Mary, there are only six
old men left now? The rest have died...

Well, could they not find
some more old men?

I am constantly seeing
old men in Barchester.

- Oh.
- I very rarely see any young ones.

When the position of warden
is filled up again,

I'm sure there'll be some more old men
forthcoming.

Did something frighten you?

- Oh, possibly so.
- Beg your pardon?

Oh.

What a wonderful surprise to greet a man

as he goes about the Lord's business.

Mrs Bold, Miss Bold
and young Master Bold.

I'm quite overcome with your boldness.

- Good afternoon, Mr Slope.
- It is an extraordinary coincidence.

I had planned to call on Mrs Bold.
I'm anxious to speak to you.

Perhaps I should take the child for a walk
along the river,

and then you can talk undisturbed.

- Is the matter so urgent?
- I believe you will think so.

See, John, there are some swans.

Shall we go and look at them?

Not too close to the water, Miss Bold.

You're both too precious to lose.

I am very careful with deep water,
Mr Slope.

Mrs Bold.

- Will you let me ask a plain question?
- Certainly.

And will you give me a plain
and open answer?

Either that or none at all.

My question is this - is your father really
anxious to go back to the hospital?

Why do you ask me?
Why don't you ask my father?

My dear Mrs Bold,
there are wheels within wheels.

I fear there is not time to explain more.

I need an answer to the question
in order to advance your father's wishes,

but it is impossible that I should
ask him directly.

No one can esteem your father
more than I do

but I doubt if the feeling is reciprocal.

Since I came to Barchester,
I have in his eyes

been guilty of certain... delinquencies,

as a result of which he shares with
some others a feeling against myself.

Whereas you, Mrs Bold...

you have allowed me to regard you
as a true and good friend.

To you I can speak openly

and explain the feelings of my heart.

All that being so, I repeat the question -

is it your father's wish
to go back to the hospital?

Yes, it is. More than anything
in the whole world.

But when I spoke to him
on behalf of the bishop,

- he declined the appointment.
- Not the appointment!

As he reported it to me, he did not
entirely agree about the schools

- and the services and the like.
- Ah.

Yes, indeed, I was a little flustered
when I spoke to him

and perhaps exaggerated
the importance of these matters

and of the repairs
and maintenance to the building.

The building was perfect when we left.

It is no longer so
by the bishop's exacting standards.

I have just completed an inventory
of damage, dampness, dilapidation...

But that is all by the way.

I reported your father's words
to the bishop,

who took them to indicate a total refusal,

and I believe that the place has now been
offered to Mr Quiverful.

- Mr Quiverful?
- I fear so.

Then there is nothing more to be done.

Not so, Mrs Bold.

Please.

It is not too late to remedy the situation,
I give you my word.

You must explain the remedy to me.
I can see none.

Mr Quiverful is an honourable man.

If your father were to explain to him

that the offer was made
because of a misunderstanding,

I feel sure that he would withdraw.

What? Ask a man with 14 children
to give up his preferment?

I know my father would do
no such thing.

No, I suppose not.

But it's out of the question that Quiverful
should supersede your father.

My dear Mrs Bold,
would you speak to the bishop

with the same truth and feeling
that you have spoken to me?

Why can't my father
speak to the bishop?

To tell the truth, the bishop had cause
of anger against your father.

What...?

My father is the mildest
and gentlest man living.

I only know he has the best of daughters.

Well, something must be done.

I refuse to see your father ruined
by so ridiculous a misunderstanding.

- It would be a pity.
- But if he will not speak to Mr Quiverful,

but if you will not speak to the bishop,

I shall simply have to talk to
Dr Proudie myself.

I will tell him openly what are the facts.

I will explain to him
that he has hardly the right

to appoint any other than your father.

Tell your father from me that what can be
done for his interest shall be done.

- All I can do is offer our thanks.
- I do not ask for thanks.

Nor do I want them.

At any rate, before they are merited.

But this I do want, Mrs Bold,

that I may make to myself friends
in this fold

to which it has pleased God to call me
as one of the humblest of his shepherds.

I am pleased
to have met you, Mrs Quiverful.

And I to meet you, ma'am.

Having met you,
I am more than confident

we shall work together amicably
once you are installed at the hospital.

Oh, very amicably, Mrs Proudie.

And your children? Of course...

My 14 babies.

I trust they all pray, Mrs Quiverful?

Oh, yes, all of them.
Morning and evening.

The bishop places
much importance on prayer.

We are the same, ma'am.
We think very highly of it.

I do not understand Mr Slope.

I cannot tell whether he is a good man
or a bad man,

whether he is true or false.

Perhaps we ought to give him
the benefit of the doubt.

Oh, I believe he means well.

And if that is so,
it is a shame to revile him.

Yet on the other hand...

- Misunderstanding?
- I believe so, my lord.

But the situation has been promised
to Quiverful now.

You went to Puddingdale
and told him so.

Not promised.
I told him there was a possibility

that you might offer him the preferment.

But I do not have
the right to make promises of that kind,

I'm merely the agent of information.

But my wife has spent an hour
talking to Mrs Quiverful,

making all kinds of plans, I dare say.

That, in my experience,
constitutes a promise.

I was not aware of that.

But if I may say so, my lord,

we shall all be in scrapes
if the ladies interfere.

When Mrs Proudie heard
that Mr Quiverful was to be appointed,

it was only natural that she should wish
to see Mrs Quiverful about the schools.

- I understand.
- I really cannot see that as interference.

My lord, I only speak for your comfort.

Your comfort, and dignity in the diocese.

I can have no other motive.

In the realm of personal feelings,
Mrs Proudie is my best friend

but as long as I am here in Barchester
my first duty is to my bishop.

I'm sure of that, Mr Slope.

I'm quite sure of that, and...

You really think that Mr Harding
should have the hospital?

I am inclined to think so.

I am quite prepared
to take upon myself the blame

of having first suggested
the name of Mr Quiverful

and equally the responsibility
of explaining

the misunderstanding to Mr Quiverful.

- And to Mrs Quiverful.
- Of course.

And to Mrs Proudie.

I'm sure any reasonable person

will understand the feeling here
in Barchester in favour of Mr Harding.

And the extreme danger of an outbreak

of hostile public opinion
against you, my lord,

if Mr Harding is passed over.

If Mr Harding
is passed over?

What are you talking about?

The, er... the hospital.

The hospital?
Mr Quiverful is to have the hospital.

But my dear, we merely wanted
to suggest to you that...

Mr Slope seems to think
that if Mr Harding

would be not appointed...
be passed over,

the public feeling would be against us

and the press might perhaps take it up.

Mr Harding was not passed over.

Mr Harding passed himself over.

And I hope, my lord, that you are not
going to allow yourself

to be governed by a chaplain.

With respect, I was carrying out
what I perceived to be my duty

of informing the bishop of the
prevailing sentiments in the diocese.

The diocese' prevailing sentiments?
Nonsense.

The press has always taken
a keen interest in Hiram's Hospital.

If Mr Harding is fool enough
to tell his tale,

we will also tell ours.

The place was offered to him
and he refused.

It has now been given to somebody else
and that's an end of it.

I fear it might not be the end of it,
Mrs Proudie.

Mr Slope, I think this is
an appropriate time

to say to you that your conduct
to the bishop

is not at all what I wish it to be.

- Oh, isn't it?
- No, it is not.

Mr Slope, you are a soul-stirring
and eloquent preacher,

but you must learn to know your place.

I have been most distressed
by your behaviour

on a number of occasions
since your arrival in Barchester.

Explain the reasons for your distress.

I'm sure I can offer
a full and adequate explanation.

If you will allow me, my lord?

Your behaviour with women.

- Mrs Proudie...
- At my party,

your conduct with that...

Italian woman was inexcusable.

Was there an Italian woman at the party?

Signora Neroni.

Whom you have since visited, I believe.

I have visited the Stanhope family,

as I visit many friends in the diocese.

I have visited the Stanhopes, Mrs Bold...

You visit Mrs Bold?

Yes.

Mr Harding's daughter?

Mr Harding's daughter?

I assure you the lady in question
is nothing to me.

- Which lady in question?
- Neither.

Since the one is a married woman,

of sorts,

and the other is a widow,

and since you, Mr Slope,

are a strictly evangelical
unmarried young clergyman,

it is vital that such ladies

- should be nothing to you.
- That is indeed the case.

It is also the case that you are inclined
to take much too much upon yourself.

It is the bishop's opinion,

and I agree with him,

that such behaviour must cease.

It is the fault of many young men
in your position,

and therefore... the bishop is not inclined
at present to resent it.

But you must be careful, very careful

not to interfere in matters of patronage.

I am simply giving what advice
seemed pertinent.

If the bishop wants advice,

he knows where to look for it.

Er, th... thank you, my dear.

Remember, Mr Slope,

the position of chaplain to the bishop

is itself a piece of patronage.

Were there any other matters
you wished to discuss with me, my lord?

I think not.

Then, if you'll excuse me.

Oh, yes, there is.

- Er, Dr Grantly.
- Dr Grantly?

Dr Grantly is calling upon me

at 11 o'clock tomorrow morning.

I believe he wants
to discuss the hospital.

I know he has strong feelings
on the subject.

I know that too, Mr Slope.

I believe that I shall not be well enough
to see him.

Perhaps you can see him for me.

A sick headache, my lord?

I think so, yes.

And what shall I tell him?

Oh, er...

Pray be civil
to the Archdeacon, Mr Slope,

but make him understand
that Mr Harding

has put it out of my power to oblige him.

- Just that?
- Just that!

I understand, my lord.

I know you do, Mr Slope.

- Good morning, Dr Grantly.
- Good morning, Mr Slope.

I regret to inform you, the bishop is ill
and is unable to see you.

Ill?

There is a note.

A sick headache, I believe.

The bishop is rather prone
to sick headaches.

Is he really, Mr Slope?

If it concerns the hospital,
I can perhaps be of some help.

No, Mr Slope. You can be of no help.

I shall see the bishop when he is free...

of sick headaches.

Ill?

The bishop is quite simply
afraid to see me.

I am never ill, and I have much more
cause to be ill than the bishop.

Perhaps he is ill.

I wish you had spoken to Mr Slope,
I think it might have done some good.

Spoken to him?

Why should I lower myself
in the world's esteem, and my own,

by coming into contact
with such a man?

I, who have hitherto
lived among gentlemen.

I was speaking to Mr Slope
only yesterday

and did not find myself lowered by it.

I believe he spoke with
genuine and friendly intentions.

Friendly intentions?

I have explained what happened
to my father.

And since you do not seem to approve
of anything I say,

I will leave the two of you to discuss
the matter together.

- Eleanor, my dear, before you go.
- Yes?

The more pleasant reason for my calling

is to invite you and your son and
your father to Plumstead for a few days.

- I should very much enjoy that.
- So would I, Dr Grantly.

Splendid!
Shall you come to us tomorrow?

The day after would be more convenient.

Why not tomorrow?
You're not seeing Slope?

No, I am not.

I have been invited to spend the evening
with the Stanhopes.

That's very friendly of them.

I must say, those children have grown up
in a most astonishing manner.

- They behave more like foreigners.
- None the worse for that.

That is a very dubious assumption.

But I will not press it.
The day after tomorrow it shall be.

I will inform my son of the exciting news.

Oh!

We'll get her away for a couple of weeks,
or she'll end up by marrying the fellow.

We must strive to rid her system
of the bestial Slope.

He seeks to marry her by showing
how powerful he is,

hence this shilly-shallying
over the hospital.

- What are you drawing, Bertie?
- A landscape.

- May I see?
- Certainly not.

If I reveal my work before it is finished,
the muse leaves me.

By the nearest exit.

Never ever to return.

- Forgive me, Mr Stanhope.
- Instantly, Mrs Bold.

I'm almost finished.

It is a lyrical scene of great beauty.

A magic land, where only the pure
and innocent on this sad planet of ours

are permitted to enter.

An enchanted kingdom
that bewitches the eyes of mankind.

Do shut up, Bertie, and let us see.

Show us the magic land, Mr Stanhope.

Oh... really.

It's almost acceptably good, Bertie.

Mrs Bold, will you...

accept this as a gift from your humble
and devoted portrait artist?

I couldn't possibly.

If you do not,
I shall throw myself in the river.

In that case, don't accept, Mrs Bold.

- In that case, I think I must.
- Aha!

You have saved my life.

We have another visitor.

Bertie, do get up. He's always on his
knees in front of beautiful women.

Understandable, if I may say so.

- Mrs Bold.
- Mr Slope.

- Signora.
- I'm consumed with jealousy.

I insist you come and sit here

and tell me all about
the lost souls of Barchester.

- She knows about mine already.
- Do get up, Bertie.

Sorry! I was really rather comfortable.

There is the most wonderful
full moon.

Do you believe there are beings
on the stars, Mrs Bold?

I feel sure there is at least
one man in the moon.

But you reject the latest theory from
Oxford about the green cheese? I agree.

My theory is, there are fish on Venus,

salamanders on Jupiter

and a highly intelligent
form of rocking horse on Mars.

I know. Let us all take a closer look.

Whatever do you mean?

We'll go for a walk and look at the moon.

I'll fetch our bonnets.

- Mrs Bold, you will come?
- I should be delighted.

Bonnet on, Mr Slope.
We're going to look at the moon,

if my dear sister will excuse yourself
for no more than 15 minutes.

You may be excused.

But not for too long.

And don't gaze for too long
at the full moon.

Er, come, Mr Slope.

We shall be very careful, my dearest.

There you are.
I see fish, and salamanders,

and, yea, even the shadow
of a rocking horse.

You see things I cannot see.

I see things nobody in the world can see.

What do you see, Mrs Bold?

Oh. I see the hospital where my father
was once warden.

And where he will be warden again.

That is what I heard.

- Mr Slope has promised to help but...
- Mr Slope?

If you will take my advice, Mrs Bold,
gaze not upon the full moon of Mr Slope.

That man is both arrogant and false.

- You believe so?
- I know it, Mrs Bold.

I have every possible
reason for knowing it.

I know it with all the passion
and fervour of...

one who sees salamanders in the sky.

Oh, er... We seem to have... Right here.

This isn't... Are you sure you don't...?

O, be joyful in the Lord

All ye lands

Serve the Lord with gladness

And come before His presence
with a song

Be sure that the Lord, He is God

It is He that hath made us

And not we ourselves

We are His people

And the sheep of His pasture

O, go your way into His gates
with thanksgiving

And into His courts with praise

Be thankful unto Him

And speak good of His name

For the Lord is gracious

His mercy is everlasting

And His truth endureth

From generation

To generation