All language subtitles for The Corn Is Green (Drama 1945) Bette Davis, John Dall & Nigel Bruce

It won't be long now, Miss Ronberry.

For once
the train from London is on time.

You arranged for the transfer
to the station, Mr. Jones?

I did. And I notified the Squire as well.

The colonel is sure to be on time.
Military discipline.

- Well, Sarah?
- Are you finished, m'am?

Is everything spick and span?

I made the bed lovely and I dusted...

Well that will be all, dear. The Colonel
is bound to have his own manservant.

Then I had better have another
sit down in my post office.

What's the matter
with your post office?

It has not had a letter in 7 weeks.

Nobody but me can write

and no good me writing
because nobody but me can read.

You see?
Anybody in Wales will tell you that

the people in this part
of the countryside are barbarians.

I can't think why a colonel should elect
to come and live in a place like this.

I've never seen so many books.

I do hope the curtains won't seem
too feminine.

I chose them with such care.

The spinning wheel too. And the china.

His own furniture's so distinctive.

The desk. And the wastepaper basket.

So virile.

A wastepaper basket that is virile.

Are you hoping the colonel will live up
to his wastepaper basket?

That's horrid, Mr. Jones.
Even for a Welshman.

What are those words you're singing?

The wicked shall burn in hell.

Good evening.

Come in.

- The Squire.
- Oh.

- Mister Treverby.
- My delicious lady.

- Squire. - Delicious surprise
and a merry afternoon to you...

as our ancestors used to say.

- Good day to you.
- Good afternoon.

No, no, no, squat, dear fellow.
Squat.

Make no ceremony with me.

- No sign of the new inhabitant?
- Any moment now, I think.

Well, let's hope
the new fool is all right.

- Why?
- Why...

all these books,

it isn't possible that one fellow
could have read them all,

or ever will.

They're here.

At last.

They're trapped with all the luggage.
Made good time from the station too.

What does he look like, Mr. Jones?
Is he young?

- Middle aged?
- No sign of any colonel yet.

- Only two women.
- Two women?

Come on, Bessie.
Get a move on with these parcels.

What are we being brought here for?

- I hate it I do.
- Shut up.

This place is a clinker, that's what.

- And don't it save us from the law?
- I hate it anyhow.

If we had stayed in London, I could
have nabbed that red dress I admired.

Ungrateful girl, that's what you are.
Behave yourself.

You haven't had the chance
to live in luxury

and you go bleeting
about your red dress.

- Oh, it's going to be lovely here.
- It smells.

Hush! Now you go down
to the station and get the big trunks.

Oh, these bags are a mess.

- Who are you?
- I never speak until I'm spoken to.

Well, speak up now, my girl.

Bessie Watty is the name.

If anybody could say
I really got a name at all.

- Is this Pengarth House?
- It is.

- What's wrong with it?
- What's good about it?

Bit of a puzzle for you, that one,
wasn't it now?

We'll have none of your impudence.

- Do you speak English?
- I do.

Then be a dear and hold this.

Do you know that creature,
my girl? Who is she?

My mummy.

- I never had no daddy.
- I'm sorry. It seems a pity.

We all has our cross to bear.
Having no daddy is mine.

- Strike me pink that they're heavy.
- What are they?

- Books.
- More books?

Look here, my good woman.
Is your employer with ill?

No. Followed behind most of the way.

Ought to be here by now.
I'll have a see.

Oh, here they are. Tally-o!

Thought we'd lost you.

What a beautiful country.

I'd hoped to catch up with you.

But that last hill proved
to be too much.

- Good afternoon.
- How do you do?

There are few nippers at the gate

so I thought I'd better bring
Priscilla inside.

Can you take care of her?

Come on girl, give us a hand.
Don't stand there getting into mischief.

It's bigger than I expected.

- So this is my house.
- No, it isn't.

Oh?
Well, isn't this Pengarth?

- The name of the building, I mean.
- Yes, it is.

That's right. It was left to me
by my uncle, Dr. Moffat.

I'm Miss Moffat.

I take it you're the Miss Ronberry

who so kindly corresponded with me.

But surely those letters we received
were written by a man.

If they were, I've been grossly
deceiving myself for a great many years.

Now that's very interesting.

Why did it never occur to you
that I might be a woman?

Well, for one thing
the paper was not scented.

And surely you signed your name
rather oddly.

Oh, my initials L.C....

Well, you see, I never felt that
Lily Christabel really suited me.

And I thought it meant
Lieutenant Colonel.

But there was
a military title after it.

M.A. Master of Arts.

Arts? Do you mean the degree
my father bought for me

when I came down from the varsity?

The very same.
Except that I was at Aberdeen

and worked jolly hard to buy it.

A female M.A.
And how long is that going to last?

Quite a long while I hope,

considering the fact that we've been
waiting for it for two thousand years.

Are you saved?

- I beg your pardon?
- Are you Church or Chapel?

Well, I really don't know.

And now that you know all about me...

- What do you do?
- What?

I'm afraid I don't do anything.

Mr. Treverby owns the Hall.

Really? I never had much
to do with the landed gentry.

Interesting.

Au revoir, dear lady. Mr. Jones.

Interesting!

What impertinence.

Nobody could say
I made a conquest there.

This is not a bad little room.

- Where is his lordship?
- Took offense and left.

Took offense? At her?
Well, aren't you good?

What do you think of her, ay?
Ain't she a clinker?

- She is unusual, is she not?
- She's a clinker, that's what.

Terrible strong-willed, of course.
Get her into mischief, I keep telling her.

Would bring me here. I said no,
I said, not with my past, I said.

- Your past?
- But what with her taking me up

and now I've joined the Corpse,
it's all blotted out.

- The "Corpse"?
- The Militant Righteous Corpse.

Ran into them in limehouse I did,

singing and praying
and collecting, full blast

And I've been a different woman since.

- Are you saved?
- Yes I am.

So am I. Ain't it lovely?

- What was your past?
- Light fingers.

Light fingers?

- Do you mean stealing?
- Everywhere I went. Terrible.

Pennies, stockings, brooches,
spoons, tiddly, anything.

Every time there was a do,
everything went;

and I always knew it was me!

I'm just telling them about my trouble.

Don't tell them any more.

I like the former tenant's taste.
Plenty of bookshelves.

- The volumes are all dusted.
- And Sarah Pugh has fixed the upstairs.

You've arranged everything
quite splendidly. I do thank you.

And now the garden.
Shall we have a look at it?

- If you like.
- I'll join you in a moment.

- I'm hungry.
- You got an appetite like a horse.

- I haven't.
- It's a fine big kitchen, Watty.

- Everything in order?
- Haven't seen no mice yet.

Good. When the luggage comes up from
the station, have them take it upstairs.

Yes, mam.

- We'll have tea, Watty, whenever
you're ready. - All right, m'am.

I knew I wasn't wrong in coming here.

Somehow this place has something
so exactly right about it.

These will be friendly for your room.

That was nicely phrased, Mr. Jones.

I'd heard that you Welshmen
had no sentiment.

Like all other people,
the Welsh too can see beauty.

Of course they can. I promise
I shan't make the same mistake again.

Tell me, Mr. Jones.

- Does this barn belong to the property?
- No, Miss Moffat.

- Is it in use now?
- No, m'am.

Splendid.

- What's that singing?
- Boys coming home from the mine.

Boys you say?

You can see them in a minute
coming over the bridge.

I should like to.

I should like very much
to look at children

who can sing after a day's work
in the coal mine.

They burst into song on the slightest
provocation. You mustn't take any notice.

Tell me, Mr. Jones.

Within a radius of 5 miles, how many
families are there around here?

About 40 families in the village
and 15 in the farms around.

- Many children?
- What age?

Up to 16 and 17.

Around here they are only children
until they are 12.

Then they are sent away to the mines

and in one week they're old men.

I see.

How many can read and write?

Next to none.

Next to none.

I wonder who started the ridiculous rumor
that this was a civilized world.

Well, since it's the only world
we have to live in,

I suppose we have
to make the best of it.

Too easy, Mr. Jones.
Much too soft and easy.

When I was a young girl I looked the world
into the eye and I decided I didn't like it.

I saw poverty and disease,
ignorance and injustice.

And in a small way, I've always done
what I could to fight them.

So now that I've had the good
fortune to come into this house

and a little money, what could I do
better than to continue to fight them?

Especially with you two to help me.

Would you please put
these in water?

- I?
- Yes, you, Miss Ronberry.

Sit down, won't you?

I used to meet friends of yours
at lectures in London.

You live alone.
You have just enough money.

You're not badly educated.

And time lies heavy on your hands.

Isn't that so?

Not at all.
When the proper gentleman appears...

Oh, no, Miss Ronberry. If you're
a spinster well on in her thirties,

he's lost his way and isn't coming.

Why don't you face the fact
and enjoy life the way I do?

When did you give up hope?

Oh, what a horrid expression.

I can't recall ever having
had any hope.

Visitors used to take a long look
at my figure and say:

"she's going to be the clever one."

But a woman's only future is to marry
and fulfil the duties.

Nonsense.
I'd have made a shocking wife anyway.

But haven't you ever been in love?

I have never talked to a man
for more than 5 minutes in my life

without wanting to box his ears.

Which brings me to you, Mr. Jones.

My conscience is as clear as the snow.

I'm sure it is.
But I've inquired about you too.

Your father was a grocer with just enough
money to send you to grammar school.

With the result that you're educated
beyond your sphere

and yet failed to qualify
for the upper classes.

You feel frustrated
and fall back on being saved.

Am I right?

It is such a terrible thing
you have said that...

- I will have to think it over.
- Do.

In the meantime, would you two like to
stop moping and be very useful to me?

- Useful?
- Yes.

I'm going to start a school.

A school? What for?

What for? You see these books?
Hundreds of them.

And something wonderful
to read in each and every one.

These nippers are to be cut off
from that forever, are they? Why?

Just because they happen to be born
penniless in an uncivilized country?

- You're right.
- The ordinary children, you mean?

Yes, my dear. The ordinary children

who came into the world by exactly
the same process as you and I.

But I couldn't teach those children.
I couldn't. They... they smell.

If we'd never been
taught to wash, so would we.

We'll put them under the pump.

But I have an enormous house to run.

And all the flowers to do.

We'll shut it up except for one room
and let the flowers die a natural death.

Mr. Jones, I want you too.

I'm a solicitor's clerk at Gwaenygam
and I earn 33 shillings per week.

I'll give you 34.
And your lunch.

But those children are in the mine
earning money.

I'll pay their parents the
few miserable pennies they get out of it.

And when I'm finished with you,

you won't have time to worry
about snapping up a husband...

and you won't have time
to be so pleased you're saved.

Well?

I do not care if you are not Chapel.
I am with you.

Come in.

Come on.

You're here again?

Be mai'n ddeud?

I said, you here again?

No, Miss.

What d'you mean, no Miss?

- We isn't here "again", Miss.
- What are you then?

We isn't the same lot
which comes in the morning.

We's the lot
which comes in the evenings

Well, even after six weeks
you all look the same to me.

- Mam!
- Yes?

Some more for ya.

Wait there, boys, and mind
you don't blacken the furniture.

- Good evening, Mr. Jones.
- Good evening, sir.

Good evening, boys.

I seen you and the lady teacher
behind the door.

You wait till you see Miss Moffat.
She will give you what for.

You wait till you see Miss Moffat.
She will give you what for.

- Miss Ronberry.
- Yes, Mr. Jones.

These children are so careless.

- Where's Miss Moffat?
- In her room, I think.

Sarah Pugh gave me this letter for her.

It's the one she's been waiting for.

I'll take it to her imediately.

Shall we wait, Miss Ronnyberry?

Miss Moffat will be with you
in a minute.

From the management of the mine.

Thank you.

The solicitors of the mineowners
politely but firmly advises me

no children working in the mine
can be released above ground.

How horrid!

Surely there must be some way.

They underestimate us.

I'll have to keep you waiting.
I must attend to errands in the village.

In the meantime, would you go
to the well in the garden

and scrub your hands and faces.

Through there.

Please, Miss. Can I have a kiss?

What did you say?

Please, Miss. Can I have a kiss?

Of course you can.

Could I oblige anybody else?

- Mr. Jones.
- Yes, Miss Moffat.

After they have washed themselves
you'd better occupy them with something.

- Ask them to write a composition.
- Any particular subject?

How I would spend my holiday.

- It's always reliable.
- Yes, mam.

Thank you.

- Come, Miss Ronberry.
- Yes, Miss Moffat.

Please, Miss.
Can I have a smacked bottom?

How horrifying.

- Mr. Jones, would you like a sweetie?
- No, thank you, my little dear.

- Have you had another walk?
- Yes, Mr. Jones.

- All by myself.
- Did you see anybody?

Only a lady and gentleman in the lane.

But mother told me never to look.

Why are you holding
your hair like that?

These are my curls.
Do you think it's nice?

It is nice but it is wrong.

I've been curling each one
round my finger and holding it tight

until it's all right.

My fingers are aching
something terrible.

- Mr. Jones.
- Yes.

Is it true that the school idea
isn't going on so well?

Who told you that?

- I heard some talking.
- Everything is splendid, Bessie.

Oh. I'm glad.

- Miss Moffat's been cruel to me.
- Cruel to you?

She hates my sweets. And...

- and she's a liar too.
- A liar?

She told me they're bad for me.

And it says on the bag
that they're nourishing.

- She's wicked.
- Now come on, Bessie...

- and help me.
- You don't have to scream!

Boys, it's time to write the essay.

You didn't wash very clean. Why not?

Because the water is too cold.

Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!

- Cloch yr ysgol.
- Yes, Idwal.

Yes, the bell for our school.

Diolch, ymachgcni.

The plans.

Thank you.

These are champions indeed.
Let's go to track and find out..

They'll never win the race.

You make me bet half
a sovereign and you lost.

That wasn't a fair race, Thomas.
You're daffy.

If you don't pay...

I'll pay tomorrow, lad.

- Good day tou you, Miss Ronberry.
- Good day, Mr. Thomas.

How's Miss Moffat prospering
in Glansarno?

I do not wish to discuss Miss Moffat.

You've taken to fancy her yourself,
Miss Ronberry.

I do not wish to discuss
Miss Moffat or myself.

Good day, Mr. Thomas.

Good day, Miss Ronberry.

A mistress at a school.

That was obviously said for my benefit.

Would you mind translating it for me?

I said, "Teacher, can I stay in
after school?"

You don't like the idea of a school.

- We do not.
- I hardly expected that you would.

Miss Moffat, the Squire.

- We've lost the first round,
Miss Ronberry. - Oh, dear.

Take heart.
I can be as stubborn as the Welsh.

Hello, hello, hello.
A jolly good afternoon to you, teacher.

As a matter of fact
I was on my way to call.

I have a most important message
for you, my dear madame.

From a gent who's been lunching
with me today. Sir Herbert Vezey.

Yes, do be quick.

He has definitely decided
that he has no use for the barn...

But he does not see it as a school,
and under no circumstances

will he let it to such to anyone.

Therefore, he most regrets
to decline etc, etc, etc.

But he implied in his letter
he'd be willing to sell.

Well, some bigwig must have made
him change his mind, mustn't he?

- You.
- My dear madame. I shall be blunt.

I'm not going to have any more of this
confounded hanky panky in my village.

- Your village.
- My village.

I'm no braggart but I'll have you know
that everything you can see

from your windows,

you haven't got a bad view, I own.

I may add that all my life I've done
my level best for the villagers.

They call me Squire.
Term of affection, you know.

- It's really decent of them.
- Go on.

They chatter away
in their absurd lingo, but

bless their hearts,
it's a free country!

But this putting them up to read
English, pothooks and giving them ideas.

More more people like you and England
will be a dangerous place to live in.

What are you trying to do?
Turn them into gentlemen?

- What's the idea?
- I'm beginning to wonder myself.

There's another thing. This buying them
out of the mine is a lot of poppycock.

It may interest you to know
that I own a half share in it.

That explains a good deal.

Why don't you take up croquet,
my dear madame?

- Keep you out of mischief.
- Stop calling me your dear madame

I'm not married, I'm not French

and you haven't the slightest
affection for me.

- All right. Roger...
- Just a moment.

I know I shall be sticking
a pin into a whale.

But here are two words about yourself.

You are the Squire Bountiful,
are you?

I should like to point out that there is
a considerable amount of dirt, ignorance,

misery and discontent
abroad in this world,

and a good
deal of it is due to people like you.

- What?
- You are a stupid, conceited,

addle-headed nincompoop.

And you can go to blue blazes.
Good afternoon!

Must have been drinking!

That was most undignified of me.
But I feel better for it.

I am glad because it was
plain spoken, wasn't it?

Sometimes I wonder if men
really know best, don't you?

What will we do now?

- Have you got a handkerchief?
- That is a good idea.

I always love to cry
when I'm depressed.

Such an advantage over
the gentlemen, I always think.

I want to blow my nose.

Miss Moffat.
We have the bell for the school.

It's good to see it anyway.

It was in the monastery
before it was burned down.

I've decided to give up
the school, Miss Rodenderry.

What are these exercise
books doing here?

Don't you remember?

You assigned the boys an essay
on "How I spent my holiday".

Must've been mad.

"If I has ever holiday I has breakfast
and talks then

dinner and a rest, tea then nothing

then supper then I talks
and I go sleep."

From exhaustion, I suppose.

In another time I'd be faintly amused
by this one's idea of a holiday.

- Judging by a rather crude drawing.
- What is it?

A bicycling tour with me in bloomers.

What shall it be this year,
tobogganing among the eternal snows

or tasting the joys of Father Neptune?"

Why, that's beautiful.
Extraordinary.

Yes, I might have thought so too

if I hadn't seen it in
that book open on the desk.

Oh, no. Your Squire was right.

I've been a stupid and impractical idiot.

I can't imagine how.

The mine is dark.

If a light come into the mine...

the rivers...

the rivers in the mine will run fast
with the voice of many women.

Walls will fall in
and it will be the end of the world.

We put up the bell...
Shhh!

So the mine is dark.

But when I walk through
the Tan something shaft in the dark,

I can touch with my hands
the leaves on the trees

and underneath where the corn is green.

Go on reading.

There is a wind in the shaft,

not carbon monoxide
they talk about

It smells like the sea.

Only like as if the sea
had fresh flowers lying about...

And that is my holiday.

- Are you Morgan Evans?
- Yes, Miss.

Did you write this?

No, Miss.

- But it's in your book.
- Yes, Miss.

Then who did write it?

I don't know, Miss.

- Did you write this?
- I don't know, Miss.

What's the matter with it?

Sit down.

Spelling...
Take your cap off.

Spelling's deplorable.

"Mine" with two "n"s
and "leaves" l, e, f, s.

- What was it by right?
- A "v" to start with.

- I never heard of no "v" s, Miss.
- Don't call me Miss.

Are you not a miss?

Yes, I am. But it's not polite.

You say, "Yes, Miss Moffat",
or "No, Miss Moffat".

M-O-F-F-A-T.

- No "v"s?
- No "v"s.

Where do you live?

Under the ground, Miss.

- No, I mean your home.
- Llyn-y-Mwyn, Miss... Moffat.

- Four miles from here.
- How big is it?

A few houses and a beer house.

Have you any hobbies?
Oh, yes.

- What?
- Rum.

Rum.

- Do you live with your parents?
- No. By my own self.

My mother is dead and my father
and my 4 brothers

was in the big shaft accident
when I was 10.

- Killed?
- Oh, yes. Everybody was.

What sort of man was your father?

He had a dash of English.

He learned it to me.

- Do you go to Chapel?
- No, thank you.

Who taught you to read and write?

- I did.
- Why?

I don't know.

- What books have you read?
- Books?

Bits of the Bible and a book
that a fella nabbed for me.

What was it?

The Lady's Companion.

- Can I go now, please?
- No!

Do you want to learn any more?

No, thank you.

Why not?

The other men would have a good laugh.

I see.

Have you ever written anything
before this exercise?

What is the matter with it?

Nothing is the matter with it.
Quite the contrary.

It shows you are very clever.

Clever?

Is that what you have said?

What effect has this news on you?

Well, it is a bit sudden.

It makes me that I...

I want to get more clever still.

I want to know what is
behind all of them books.

Can you come tomorrow?

At night I could come.

In the day I'm working
on the 6 to 4 shift.

Good.

At 7 then.

In the meantime I'll correct
the spelling and grammar.

Yes, Miss Moffat.

That will be all. Good night.

Good night, Miss Moffat.

- Are you the one I spanked?
- Yes, Miss...

Moffat.

Miss Ronberry!

- Miss Ronberry.
- Yes.

I have been a fool.
It doesn't matter about the barn.

We're going to start
the school right here in this room.

I'm going to get those youngsters
out of that mine if I have to...

blacken my face and go down
and fetch them myself.

We're going on with the school.

"And when I walk in the dark...

I can touch with my hands...

where the corn is green.

One, two, three...

You are a clinker, m'am.

Always sneeking off
to the village on your byke.

- My Greek books arrived, Watty.
- Greek?

Do you mean to say
you can jabber in Greek, Mam?

You flatter me.
I have to do a bit of studying.

If I am to teach more than Evans' Greek

I'll have to keep at least one day
ahead of him. And trust to luck.

That was quite better.

Full of splendid feeling and nice
and precise as well.

Please, Miss Ronberry.
Can we have some more?

Not today. School dismissed.

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

Is there something you would
like to know, Mr. Tom?

- Where is Shakespeare?
- Where?

Shakespeare,
Mr. Tom, was a very great writer.

Dear me. And me thinking
the man was a place.

Class dismissed.

- They have finished their exercises.
- Good.

Tomorrow we'll start working
on the fractional equations.

- Yes, Miss Moffat.
- Good afternoon.

Gwynal, I find you have
the most enormous difficulty

differentiating between
the divisor and the dividend.

- Is it quite clear now?
- Yes, Miss Moffat.

Good.
Thank you, Mr. Jones.

- Finished, Evans?
- Yes, Miss Moffat.

- How many pages?
- Nine.

Three too many.
Boil it down to six.

I'm starting you on Greek next week.

Evans, this essay
on the wealth of nations is yours.

Yes, Miss Moffat.

Say so and underline it.

Nothing irritates a teacher so much
as this sort of a vagueness.

The eighteenth century was a cauldron.

Vice and elegance boiled to a simmer

until the kitchen of society
reeked fulminously,

and the smell percolated
to the marble halls above.

- Do you know what it means?
- Yes, Miss Moffat.

I don't.
Clarify, my boy. Clarify.

"Water" with two "t"s.
That's a bad lapse.

Seven out of ten.
Not bad but not good.

You must avoid using long words unless
you know exactly what they mean.

- Yes, Miss Moffat.
- Have you those lines on Voltaire?

Yes, Miss Moffat.

It's just 3 o'clock. Go for your walk.
Good and brisk.

But kill two birds
and learn the Voltaire by heart.

If you can ever argue
a point like that, you'll do.

Back in 20 minutes.
Take your pen from behind your ear.

Yes, Miss Moffat.
Now turn a somersault and beg.

- Can you smell scent?
- Yes.

Nice, isn't it?

I don't know.

I never come across scent before.

I never did come across scent before.

Bright, aren't you?
Don't you ever get tired of lessons?

Oh, dear, what can the matter be...

There we go.

Stuck up teacher's pet.

Oh, dear, what can the matter be...

You must not think that, dear.
Miss Moffat says he's clever.

Miss Moffat's riding for a fall.

All this ordering him about.

I've got eyes in my head
even if she hasn't.

And he's getting sick of it.

I think a lady ought to be dainty.

She has no idea.

- Mr. Jones.
- Yes, Bessie.

I got some scent on my hands.

Would you like to smell them?

No, thank you.
I can smell them from here.

It's lovely.

Please, Miss Moffat,
can I have the money for my ticket?

- What ticket?
- For the fair at Tregarna tomorrow.

You said I could go.

On the contrary.
I said you couldn't, not on school hours.

Ron, has this bill from Liddel
and Scott been paid?

I'm afraid not.
It's for Evans' new suit.

I shall have to sell
a couple more shares, I expect.

- Tend to it, would you?
- Certainly.

Bessie Watty.
What is this dying duck business?

- Yes, Miss Moffat.
- Don't Miss Moffat me. Explain yourself.

Mummy says all these lessons
is bad for my inside.

What's the matter with your inside?

It keeps going round and round
from sitting down.

Perhaps what I want is a change.

There's nothing to prevent you
from going for walks between lessons.

As a matter of fact you can go now.
Quick. March.

I'm not going.

What did you say?

I'm not going.
Everybody's against me.

I'm going to throw myself
off a cliff and kill myself.

It'll make a nice case in the papers.
Me at the bottom of a cliff.

In pieces. I'm going mad.
I'm going mad, I am.

I'm going to kill myself.
Nothing's going to stop me.

Stone dead at the bottom of a cliff.

I made a mess of your floor,
m'am, but it's worth it.

She's got bad blood, this girl,
mark my word. She'll catch her death.

There's nothing like cold water, m'am.
I learned that with her father.

He was foreign, you know.

How do you feel after that?

I can't remember anything.
I'm in a "comma".

Shall we go to our room now, with
the door locked and try to remember?

Next week, I'll send you away to work.

And we'll see how you like that.

Oh, Ron.
Don't forget the Squire's coming at six.

But we haven't seen him
since that dreadful day.

I know. I hope I don't behave
as stupidly again.

It's vital that I make
the right impression this time.

Why, Miss Watty.
Guess what happened to me?

- What?
- I'm a Sargent-Major.

Indeed to goodness.

You remember Sargent-Major Hopkins
deserting in Cardiff

and marrying a sailor?
- Yes.

Well, last week, not two months
after she left the Corps she was dead.

And you stepped right into her shoes.

They're a bit on the big side.

But I can put a bit o' paper in.

The uniform fits lovely, though.
Ain't it a clinker?

- Mrs. Watty!
- Coming.

- Tally-o
- We'll be late for the meeting.

- All right, Mrs. Stit, what's the hurry?
- The whole Corpse is waiting.

Another, Glen.

The same.

You can fix me a bottle
to take with me, Glen.

I said you can fix me up
a bottle to take with me.

Oh, now you're speaking
English, Morgan.

What if I do?

Our dear Morgan goes
to school now, he does.

Which is none of your business.

What language is this
you've written here, Morgan?

Tis Latin.

Do the words have a meaning?

They do.

I love, you love, he loves.

Words you have learned at the school?

- They are.
- What use are they, Morgan?

Will they help you swing a pick any
faster when you go back to the mine?

I love, you love, heee loves.

The words are not meant to be funny.

I love, you love, he loves, she...

Sorry, lad.
The boys are only having fun.

And there is others that's been
having their fun too, Glen.

- Are you going into the Gwesmor Arms?
- I'd go anywhere to save sinners.

Miss Moffat!

Miss Moffat. It's the Squire.

Let him in, Ron.

Very well.
Coming.

- Squire.
- Good evening.

So this is the seat of learning.

- Your hat.
- No, thank you. I'm not staying.

You can tell her for me that I have not
come here to be insulted again.

Oh, I'm sure you haven't.
I mean...

She called me
an addle-headed nincompoop.

Miss Ronberry, dear.
My roses are dying.

Would you pour out a little water for them?

I've such a headache. I...

- Squire.
- You wrote me.

- Perhaps you've forgotten.
- Oh, How could I forget?

I only thought that after the
overwrought fashion of my behavior

at our last meeting, you must
ignore my very nervous invitation.

Miss Ronberry, a chair,
dear, for the Squire.

I haven't a great deal
of time to spare, I fear.

Of course you haven't.
I was just saying to Miss Ronberry

the Squire is so busy
he'll never be able to fit us in.

Miss Ronberry, dear, would you
put water in these, please.

Tell me, Squire...

how did your prize-giving
fare this afternoon?

Rather a bore, I'm afraid.

I have always wanted to see
you judge. I love flowers.

It wasn't flowers.
It was cows.

Oh. Well it was your speech
I wanted to hear, of course.

I heard you made such
an amusing one at the croquet club.

Did they tell you about that?
Rather a good pun, eh?

- May I sit down?
- Do.

I thought the Griffith the butcher
was going to laugh his napper off.

Indeed. You know, Squire,
that makes me very proud.

Proud? Why?

Because he wouldn't have
understood a word you said

if his two little girls hadn't
learned English at my school.

I never thought of it like that.

May I offer you some tea?

No, thank you very much.
I can't abide the stuff.

I've trained my tummy to better
things than tea, thank you very much.

I'm sorry to be unable
to offer you anything stronger,

but in this house
we are only women, you know.

I quite understand. A feminine tummy,
I've always said,

is very much like the feminine mind.

Both a bit on the weak side.

How right you are, Squire.

We're not exactly
rugged creatures, are we?

What's the matter? Headache?

Squire,
you see before you a tired woman.

We live and learn,

and I have learnt how right
you were that day.

I have worked my fingers to the bone,

battering my head against a stone wall.

But I heard tou were a spiffing success.

Oh, no.

It's very fair of you to admit it,
I must say.

You see, in one's womanly enthusiasm

one forgets that the qualities vital
to success in a venture of this sort

are lacking in one: intelligence,
courage and authority.

In short, the qualities of a man.

Oh, come, come. You mustn't be
too hard on yourself.

After all, you meant well.

It's kind of you to say, Squire.
But I need more than words.

- I need help. Your help.
- What kind of help?

Well, you see,
I'm faced with a problem.

The question of what to do
with the future of Morgan Evans.

Morgan Evans?

He used to be one
of my miners, I believe.

What's his trouble? Punching?

Oh, no.

Got humself tangled up
with a bit of muzzling?

Something of that sort?

- Oh, no, Squire.
- What about the little Cockney filly?

Bessie? No, I assure you, she's only
a schoolgirl. It's nothing of that sort.

But he is a problem just the same.

And, like a true woman,
I have to scream for help to a man.

To you.

Scream away, dear lady.

Scream away.

Well...

- Morgan Evans is clever. He can write.
- Can he now?

Oh, he's more than clever.
This boy is quite out of the ordinary.

Are you sure?

I'm as sure as one
of your miners would be

cutting through coal
and striking a diamond without a flaw.

This boy was born
with exceptional gifts.

They should be given every chance.

You mean he may
turn into a literary bloke?

- He might, yes.
- How do you know?

- By his work. It's very good.
- How do you know it's good?

How does anyone know
Shakespeare's good?

Skakespeare?
What's he got to do with it?

- He was a literary bloke.
- He was, wasn't he?

If Morgan Evans had a protector...

What?

A protector. We had them before
in England, you know?

Listen.

To the Right and Honorable
Earl of Southhampton...

your Honor's in all duty,
William Shakespeare.

I often think of the pride
that surged in the Earl's bosom

when his encouragement gave birth
to the masterpiece

of a poor and humble writer.

This little tenant of yours, Squire,

has it in him to bring
great credit to you.

By Jove, he is a tenant
of mine, isn't he?

Well, if this boy really is clever,

it seems a pity for me not to do
something about it, doesn't it?

It is a great pity. And I can tell you
exactly what you can do about it.

There's a scholarship going at Oxford.

Oxford?

They have agreed to take
this boy on one condition.

That you vouch for him.

My dear lady, you take the cake...

Can't he be just as clever at home?

Oh, no. He must have polish.
He has everything else.

The background of a university
would be invaluable to him.

- My dear lady...
- Will you do it?

- I must say it's asking...
- Think of Shakespeare.

Squire, William Shakespeare...

If the Earl of Southampton
could produce a Shakespeare,

I.. I...

Think of your inscription, Squire.
It will be handed down to posterity.

Posterity?
Posterity!

Oh, serene dear lady. Oh, serene.

I'll drop a line to some
of the bigwigs next week.

By Jove, it's rather a laugh, eh?

- Like having an entry in the Derby.
- Exactly like the Derby, Squire.

Well, I must be off.

Oh, Squire. I would be most obliged
if the letter could be posted tomorrow.

Would you like me to draft out
a recommendation

and send it over to the Hall?

- You must be so busy with the estate.
- Yes, I am rather.

Polka supper tomorrow night.
Do, do that.

- Well, good bye, dear lady.
- Thank you so very much, Squire.

Happier conditions, and all that.

- I'm glad you've come to your senses.
- Thank you again, Squire.

- From the bottom of a greatful heart.
- Not at all.

I'm all for giving a writer-fellow
a helping hand.

Well, good bye again, dear lady.

- Good bye again, Squire.
- Go ahead, Evan.

That man is so stupid.
It sits on him like a halo.

Thank you for your shawl, Ron.

Better watch out.
I'll beat you to the altar yet.

- What happened?
- We have met the Squire and he's ours.

In 10 minutes I have given
the Squire the impression

he spends his whole time
fostering genius in the illiterate.

- How?
- By soft soap and courtseying.

Ron, I am entering Morgan Evans
for a scholarship to Oxford University

and the Squire is going
to vouch for him.

- Halellujah!
- But they don't have miners at Oxford.

Well, they're going to.

- Well, good night.
- Good night.

Oh, it's you, Morgan.
Miss Moffat is in the study.

- I'll tell her that you are back.
- I don't want to see no Miss Moffat.

You mean, "I don't want
to see Miss Moffat."

- The double negative, you know.
- Now don't you start.

I like the double negative. It says
what I want the way I like and

I'm not going to stand
no interferences from nobody.

Morgan, I've never seen you
like this before.

No you haven't, have you?

Oh, you're back, Evans.
Have a good walk?

- Yes, Miss Moffat.
- Sit down. I have a surprise for you.

- I will stand, Miss Moffat.
- If you like.

- Good night, Ron.
- Good night.

I'm putting you in for a scholarship
at Oxford.

Oxford?

Where the lords go?

The same.

Oh, by the way. About your Greek.

I've made you a simplified
alphabet to begin with.

It's jolly interesting after Latin.

Have a look at it by Tuesday
so we can make a good start.

Oh, before we go on with the lesson,

I'll find you a nail file.
I'll show you how to use it.

I shall not need a nail file
in the coal mine.

- In the what?
- I am going back to the coal mine.

I don't understand you.
Explain yourself.

I don't want to learn Greek,

not to pronounce long English words,
not to keep my hands clean.

What is the matter with you?
Why not?

Because I was born in a Welsh hayfield

when my mother was
helpin' with the harvest.

And I always lived in a house with
no stairs, only a ladder and no water...

and until my brothers was killed
I never sleep except three in a bed.

I know that is terrible
grammar but it's true.

What has 3 in a bed got
to do with learning Greek?

It has a lot.

The last two years I have not had no proper
talk with English chaps in the mine

because I was so busy keepin'
this old grammar in its place.

Tryin' to better myself.

Tryin' to better myself,
the day and the night!

You cannot take a nail file into
the Gwesmor Arms public bar!

My dear boy, file your nails at home!

Besides, you don't go
to the Gwesmor Arms.

Yes, I do, I have been there
every afternoon for a week,

spendin' your pocket money.

And I have been there now,
and that is why I can speak my mind.

I had no idea that you felt like this.

Because you're not interested
in me, that's why.

Not interested in you?

How can you be interested in a machine

that you put a penny in
and if nothing comes out

you give it a good shake?

"Evans, write me an essay;
Evans, get up and bow;

Evans, what is a subjunctive?"

My name is Morgan Evans,
and all my friends call me Morgan,

and if there is anything gets on the wrong
side of me it is callin' me Evans!

And do you know what
they call me in the village?

Ci bach yr ysgol!

The schoolmistress's little dog!

What has it got to do with you
if my nails are dirty?

Mind your own business!

I had never meant you to know this.

I have spent money on you.

I don't mind.
That money ought to be spent.

But time is different.

Your life is just beginning.
Mine is half over.

Two years is valuable currency.

I have spent two years on you.

Ever since that first day,

the mainspring of this school
has been your career.

Sometimes in the middle of the night,

when I have been desperately tired,

I have lain awake making plans.

Large and small, sensible and silly.

Plans for you.

And you say
I have no interest in you.

If I say any more,
I shall start to cry.

I haven't cried
since I was younger than you are.

And I'd never forgive you for that.

I don't like this sort of conversation.

Please never mention it again.

If you want to go on,
be at school tomorrow.

If not, don't.

I don't want your money
and I don't want your time.

I don't want to be thankful
to no strange woman for anything.

I don't understand you.

I don't understand you at all.

Morgan!

Come help me down.

Come help me down!

Hello.

I hurt my knee sliding down the roof.

Perhaps I'm invisible.

- Going for a walk?
- I am.

- Do you mind if I come along with you?
- Free country.

Don't walk so fast, Morgan.
You'll have me all out of breath.

- Talking a lot, aren't I?
- Yes.

Well so were you in there.
And I'm not deaf.

Spying, were you?

If people lock me up in rooms
and take the key out of the keyhole

they can't blame me
for listening at it.

- She's wicked.
- Mind your own business.

Listening to the night, Morgan?

Isn't it beautiful?

You like that singing, don't you?

You know, it's funny.

We've never been
by ourselves before.

Didn't know I knew Welsh
before, did you?

You like that song, don't you?

That's why I learned it.

You are different when you sing.

Am I?

What's this? Medicine?

Tastes like rubber.

It's nice though.

You know, you was quite right
putting her in her place like that.

Clever chap like you
learning lesson off a woman.

You don't have to go to Oxford.

A clever chap like you.

That's right.

What a man wants

is a bit of sympathy.

A pronoun is a word used
instead of a noun.

That is correct.

Now notice the sentence:
"James took James' hat

and put James' hat on James' desk."

- Is it correct?
- No, Miss Moffat.

Write the sentence on your slates
as you think it should be written.

Gwyllam, you seem to be having
difficulty. Can you make a try?

If I take my hat and put it on my desk...

What is wrong with that?

Gwyllam, we're not talking
about your hat,

we're talking about the sentence,
the structure.

The use of pronouns.

I do not understand.

Idwal, you may read yours.

James took his hat
and put it on his desk.

Exactly.
Wyllam, do you understand now?

No, Miss Moffat.

Very well, we'll try again tomorrow.
Class dismissed.

I'm afraid Gwyllam uses
no head for grammar.

It was different with Morgan Evans.

It's not always the hare
wins the races, Mr. Jones.

Indeed not, Miss Moffat.

But I have seen you struggling
with Gwyllam Hughes and the others.

It was not my intention to start a school
for only those with natural gifts.

You must help all who want to be helped.

The old and the young,
the slow and the fast.

- Oh, Mr. Jones.
- Yes, Miss Moffat.

Mrs. Simon Thomas received
a letter from America.

Would you read it for her?

- Yes, mam.
- Thank you.

- Morgan?
- Come in.

Good evening.

What do you want?

Oh, my boy. I mean no offense.

Has the time come in Glansarno when
a man can't pay a family call?

Miss Moffat sent you.

No. Miss Moffat didn't send me.

You see, old Mrs. Simon Thomas just
down the lane had a letter from America.

And since she cannot read,
I went over there to read it for her.

What has that got to do with me?

Well, you could have read
it yourself and saved me a trip.

True, you have been away
from the school for some time now.

- That is my concern.
- Yes, but...

still, it is a fine thing
to be able to read.

Books, for instance.

Norwood's History of Kings.

How do you find it, Morgan?

- That is my business.
- Morgan,

you must come back to the school.

- Miss Moffat...
- Why must I?

Because the Almighty God
has given you a brain

and you must make the most of it.

- I am all right the way I am.
- Yes, but you are not happy, boy.

Anyone can see that.

I don't need Miss Moffat.
I don't need to read no books.

I can hold my own head up.
Now get out!

But remember this, Morgan.

A full year of corn will bend its head.
But an empty one stands upright.

A king's duty is to govern
his people well.

He must see
that only good laws is made.

And he must also take care
that the people obeys them.

Continue, Mr. Tom.

And the Bishop's duty is
to pray and preach

and to see that all the clergymen
who are under his...

I would like to learn Greek.

I would like to try for Oxford.

You will find the first lesson marked,
and the second.

Watch your verbs.

- And watch your English Hist...
- I've read it 20 times.

I know it by heart.

We will begin in the morning.

Very well. Now I should like you
to conjugate the verb "pimpai".

To set. Just the present.

- Pimpo, pimpas...
- Pimpo, pimpas, pimpai, pimpomen...

- Pímpomen...
- Pímpomen, pimpoti, pimposi.

You should always stress
the first syllable, Evans. Try it again.

Pimpo, pimpas, pimai

Pimpomen, pimpoti, pimposi.

Na NO3

LAO 1564, 1642.

Hey, Morgan!
Morgan!

Run down, boy. It's time to come out.

We've come to take you
to the examination.

No, Morgan, no. Now you must
always speak in English.

In English!

The same like you will
when you have won the examination.

When you are at Oxford.

English, Morgan, English.

All right then.
Like it might be at Oxford.

May I say first I am delighted
you have come for me.

I shan't be more than a moment.

But remember. Even if I am lucky enough
to pass the examination today,

I will still be a long way from Oxford.

It will only allow me
to take the talking examination

with the professors.

You'll win the examination today.

And when the time comes,
you'll win the talking.

You're all my good friends, Robert.

And if I am lucky enough to win
the examination

and then the scholarship,

I know I shall learn nothing
of friendship at Oxford.

Well, come along. Standing here
will not get us there on time.

I am saved, I am
I am saved, I am...

I am S-A-V-E-D.

- What might the armchair be for, Miss?
- The Squire is coming.

- He is invitulating.
- What was that, please, Miss?

The Oxford people have appointed him
and Miss Moffat to watch Morgan Evans

while he's sitting the scholarship.

- Why?
- So that he cannot cheat.

What a shame!

- What time is it?
- It's nearly 9 o'clock, Miss.

Terrible if Morgan couldn't get through.

Counting sheep all night I was.
She didn't get a wink neither.

I could hear her thinking.

This is a very important
day for her, Watty.

The post's here, Miss.
Looks like this one's from Bessie.

- Would you mind, Miss?
- To think I taught her to write.

"Dear Mum, I don't like being
in service at all.

Cheltenham is terrible.
I do the steps.

Madam is terrible.
Can I have a shilling?

Your obedient girl."

Obedient?
I like that.

She's been away 3 months now.
She ought to be getting used to it.

- Do you not miss her?
- No. I don't like her, you know.

- Never have.
- Why, Mrs. Watty, your own daughter?

I know. But I've never been
able to take to her.

First time I saw her I said "No"!

Do you think he will get
through the rain all right?

He'd get through anything this morning.

I am so glad.

Wouldn't it be splendid if he won?

It's not very likely, I'm afraid.

They have some pretty strong public
school candidates against him.

But wouldn't it be exciting?

Yes, it would. But more than that,

it would be a wonderful for rural
education all over the country.

Most of all, it would be
a wonderful thing for you.

I suppose so.

It's odd to have spent so many hours
with another human being and

in closest intellectual communion

And it has been that.

I know every trick and
twist of that brain of his.

Exactly where it will falter,
exactly where it will gallop ahead of me.

And yet not to know him at all.

I woke up in the middle
of the night thinking of Henry VIII.

I have a feeling they'll ask a question
about the old boy and the Papacy.

I'll cram one or two facts
into him at the last minute.

Oh, dear God, he must win. He must.

A cup of tea, mam.

Now, mam, don't get in a pucker!

Six more Saturday mornin's like this
in the next 'alf-year, remember!

Suppose the Squire doesn't come.

He will. He's gotten to the point
of looking at the boy as a racehorse.

There's the Squire now.

- Bessie, it can't be you, your letter...
- I left the same day I posted it.

- This is unexpected.
- Isn't it just?

I've been travelling all night.

I woke Mr. Jones up and
he got the stationmaster

to drive us home
in the truck in the rain.

Nice wasn't it?

You arrived at the most
inconvenient time.

- Fancy.
- Have you come to see your mother?

No.

- Then why are you here?
- Questions and answers.

Just like school again.

Mr. Jones, why have you brought
that girl here this morning?

I did not bring her, Miss Moffat.
She brought me.

Whom have you come to see?

You.

I can give you exactly
one minute of my time.

Is it money?

Would you mind waiting in the study?

Quickly!

- One minute.
- Why?

Morgan Evans is sitting here for his
Oxford examinations this morning.

- Well, he needn't.
- What do you mean?

Because he won't ever
be going to Oxford.

Why not?

Because there's going
to be a little stranger.

- I'm going to have a little stranger.
- You're lying.

Dr. Brett, living in Cheltenham.

And if you don't believe
it's Morgan Evans,

you ask him about
that night you locked me up.

The night you had the words with him.

I see.

- Does he know?
- I come to tell him.

I was ever so upset, of course.

Now I've lost my place I shall have
to have some help

in taking care of the little stranger.

Oh, stop saying little stranger.

If you must have a baby, call it a baby.

- Have you told anybody?
- Mr. Jones, that's all.

Morgan Evans must not be
disturbed for 3 hours.

- You are not going to see him.
- You can't bully me.

Hasn't sunk in yet, has it?

I'm teaching you something, am I?

You couldn't see what was going on
under your nose 'cause

you were so busy managing everything.

You can't manage him any longer because

he's got to manage me now.

I'm afraid I'm going to do
some managing right now.

You are going into the kitchen where
your mother will prepare your breakfast.

You will then lie down.
After the session is over,

we will go upstairs
and talk it all over.

When we are a little calm.

He's here. I got to see him.

If you try and disobey me I shall not
answer for the consequences.

You wouldn't dare lay a finger on me.

Oh yes I would.

If you stay in this room,

or if you blab about this to anybody
before we've had that little talk,

even your mother,

I'm in a pretty nervous
state myself this morning

and I shall strike you so hard
that I shall probably kill you.

I mean every word I say.

I don't mind.
Three hours will go by soon enough.

- Good morning.
- Sorry.

- It's a dreadful day. How kind of you.
- Not at all.

Ron, the Squire is here.

Anything for a lark?
I'm glad it isn't me.

- Squire.
- Oh, thank you.

- You're soaking.
- Yes, I am rather wet.

I've got a spiffy bit of news for you.

I bought the barn from Sir Herbert...

and we can move the whole shool next door
by the end of the year.

- What do you think of that?
- Wonderful.

Aren't you pleased about it?

Yes, but...
this examination is rather worrying.

- Squire, your chair.
- Oh, thank you.

- Good day, everyone.
- Good morning.

- Let me take your things.
- Thank you.

- Beastly weather, isn't it?
- Yes, it is.

- You haven't caught cold, have you?
- No, Miss Moffat.

Before I open the papers, I have
a feeling they may bring up Henry VIII.

- Would you memorize these facts.
- Thank you.

White heather. Just a thought.

Thank you.

Good luck, my boy.

- Thank you, sir.
- I'm glad it isn't me.

One minute more, Evans.
You'd better sit down.

Name and particulars, to save time.
And don't get exuberant.

- No.
- Or illegible.

No.

Aren't you going to wish
my little protegé good fortune?

Good luck.

Thank you.

Ready?

Henry VIII.

- Greetings, Learned lady.
- Good morning, Squire.

You know I'm beginning to feel
like a silly old Headmaster?

Watching these eager little
beggars sucking up education

like a lot of blinking little blotters.

There's quite a thrill to it
once you get the proper viewpoint.

You don't think my being
there disturbs them,

makes them selfconscious,
nothing of that sort?

Of course not. We like having you.

That's very nice of you. Extremely so.
Any news yet from young Evans?

I expect we'll hear in a day or two.

I must say I've got that young man
on my mind these days.

Well, I must be toddling on.
Goodbye, dear lady. Goodbye.

You mustn't be late for class, you know.

- Wonder where my chip book is.
- You were using it only yesterday.

Right where you are.

Oh, yes, of course. Here it is.

More bills for the school.

I wish you could be more
careful in your expenditures.

Nonsense.
Moderation is a vastly overrated virtue.

Ron, your next class
is waiting for you.

Do you know what has happened
to Bessie Watty?

Why do you ask that?

Well, there's been a great
deal of curiosity.

Gossip, really.

She was sent back to service
in Cheltenham.

Anything odd about that?

No, I suppose not.

Only people have been asking questions.

- Now. You all understand that?
- Yes, Mr. Jones.

- Let me see your slate, Robbart.
- Mr. Jones!

In that word there, "known",
what in goodness is a "k" doing there?

Well,... it is there because...

that is the proper way to spell.

It is not the way you say it.

"Nown" is the way it sounds.
You do not say "k-nown".

Is that not right, Squire?

I must admit you've got a point there.

N-O-W-N.
K-N-O-W-N.

Your viewpoint is completely logical.
No one can deny that.

Please, sir.
How many "l" s in daffodils?

Daffodils?
The usual number, I suppose.

- One "l" or two, sir?
- Look here, my good man.

If you don't know the meaning
or the proper spelling of a word,

look it up in the dictionary.

You're the one who's supposed
to be getting the education. Not I.

I went through all that myself ages ago.

There's no reason for me to delve
into all those matters over again.

- And now, pupils,
I have a surprise for you.

- Morgan Evans,
- Yes.

Our Morgan is returning
from Oxford University.

And if you all will behave yourselves,

you can stay in here
to welcome him this afternoon.

In the meantime, the class must go on.

Now, now, boys.
Sit down. Sit down.

Or I will not allow you
to wait for Morgan.

- Any sign of him yet?
- No, there's no sign of young Evans.

Only old Sarah.

He is not expected before the train
leaving Oxford in the morning.

Just the same, I sent the wagon
at dawn to the station on the off chance.

If you would please sit down, sir.

The pupils are having enough
difficulty concentrating now.

Excuse me. I simply can't do
a thing with my class.

No concentration at all.

Do you think that Morgan may
know the result when he arrives?

I doubt it. Miss Moffat said we ought
to get a letter in day or two.

I think I'll propel the old pins
down the road. Just in case.

- Please, Squire.
- What is it, my boy?

- What sort of place is Oxford?
- I don't know I'm sure.

Cambridge myself.

Oh, thank you, Jones.

Now pupils, we'll continue
our History class from this morning.

Sarah Pugh,
what are you all dressed up for?

- Because for Morgan Evans.
- Is there any news?

Of Morgan? Oh, quickly.

- Any news?
- Not yet, Mr. Jones.

But when it comes I know it's
good news, so what do I do?

I open the dresser, out the lavender
bags and into my Sundays!

Before we have definite
news that is unwise.

John Goronwy Jones, please, sir.
You are an old soft.

Everybody is ready to meet him
down by the Railroad Station!

The grocer got his fiddle...

And William Williams,
the public, got his cornet.

And me with my mouth organ.

Perhaps preparing for news
to be good means that it will be.

Everything is preordained.

Morgan Evans has either won
the scholarship or lost it.

Let us all say together:
"Morgan Evans has won the scholarship."

"Morgan Evans has won the scholarship."

This waiting is getting
to be a definite strain.

If we're going to welcome the lad,
Great Scot, let's go and welcome him!

Squire, wait, we'll go with you.

- Pupils, pupils, please!
- Don't worry. I'll go tell Miss Moffat.

Pupils!
Class must go on. Please.

It's simply no use.

They're all scurrying down
the road to meet Morgan.

You're the only one
who doesn't seem to be nervous.

I'm past being nervous, Ron.

If he has won,
I shan't believe it, frankly.

And if he has lost?

If he has lost,

we must proceed
as if nothing had happened.

Won't you come and help me
keep some semblance of order?

Very well, Ron.
I shall be up presently.

Love alone his watch is keeping,

all through the night.

Miss Ronberry,
how great their English has improved.

Very well. Now shall we try and
sing the words with the music?

Yes, Miss Moffat.

You'd better follow me
on the blackboard for the first time.

"Sleep my love and peace attend thee

all through the night."

"Guardian angels God will lend thee

all through the night."

"Soft the drowsy hours are creeping

"hill and vale in slumber steeping,

"love alone his watch is keeping,

"all through the night."

That was splendid.

And now, Miss Ronberry, I suggest
that they sing it from memory.

- We'll try.
- Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, Miss Moffat.

- Are you ready?
- Yes, Miss Ronberry.

Mr. Hughes. Are you sure that Morgan
Evans didn't come in on the last train?

No, I'm sorry. He didn't.

Is there not another train
from London?

No, Idwal. Not until tomorrow.

Squire...

How do you get from Oxford to Wales?

I don't. I know nothing about Oxford.

Well, no train till tomorrow.
I'm off. Good night, boys.

- Good night, Squire.
- Good night.

You would be the first
I would talk to, I said,

when I came back from Oxford.

Morgan.

I caught the early train.
I knew they'd all be watching for me.

So I got off at the last stop
before Glansarno

and got a lift from there.

- Does that mean...
- Oh, no. No news.

- Except that I am not hopeful.
- Why not?

They talked to me for
one hour at the Viva.

It doesn't mean anything. Go on.

They jumped on hard on the New Testament
questions as you said they would.

- You're very pale.
- Better than a raging fever.

Sit down.

I spent 5 minutes
explaining why Saint Paul

sailed from a town 300 miles inland.

- Oh, dear. Parnell?
- Parnell?

Oh, yes. I was going to stick up
for the old chap

but when they started off
with "that fellow Parnell",

I told the tale against him
for half an hour.

I wasn't born a Welshman for nothing.

- And the French?
- Oh, not good.

I said "naturellement" for everything.

But it didn't fit all the time.

- Did the Dean send for you?
- I had half an hour with him.

- Did you?
- Oh, yes, but

so did the other 9 candidates.

He was a very kind and
grand old gentleman

sitting in a drawing-room
the size of Town Hall.

I talked about religion
the same as you said.

- Just as you were advised.
- Just as you advised.

He asked me if I had ever
had strong drink.

I looked him straight in the eye
and said, "No".

Oh!
When shall we know?

The day after tomorrow.
They are writing to you.

The villagers are all in their best
talking about a holiday.

It's very stupid of them.

Because if you failed, it'll make you
all the more sick at heart.

If I failed?

- Don't speak about it.
- But we must speak about it, Morgan.

You faced that fact
the day you left for Oxford.

I know. But I've been to Oxford
and come back since then.

I have come back from the world.

Since the day I was born, I've been
a prisoner behind a stone wall.

And now somebody has given me a leg-up
to take a look at the other side.

They cannot drag me back again,
they cannot.

They must give me a push
and send me over!

I've never heard you talk
so much since I've known you.

That is just it. I can talk, now.

The three days I have been there,
I have been talking my head off.

If three days at Oxford
will do this to you,

think what you would be like
at the end of three years.

That's just it again. It would be
everything I need, everything!

I spent 3 hours discussing the law
with one of the other candidates,

the most brilliant one
of the lot he was.

The words came pouring out of me,

all the words that I had learnt
and written down and never spoken.

I suppose I was talking nonsense,

but I was at least holding
a conversation

I suddenly realized
that I'd never done it before.

I had never been able to do it.

Before it's always been like this:

"How are you, Morgan? Nice day,
Mr. Jones! Not bad for the harvest."

A vocabulary of 20 words

and there I was with this other
candidate, the brilliant one,

and all the words you taught me
just came pouring out

like I'd always known them.

I came out of his rooms that night
and walked down the High.

That's their High Street, you know.

Yes, yes.

Everybody seemed
to be walking very fast,

with their gowns on, in the moonlight.

The bells were ringing,

and I was walking faster
than anybody and I felt...

well, the same as on
the rum in the old days.

Go on.

All of a sudden, with one big rush,
against that moon,

and against that High Street,

I saw this room.

You and me sitting here studying

and all those books

and everything I have learnt
from those books, and from you,

was lighted up, like a magic lantern.

Ancient Rome, Greece,
Shakespeare, Carlyle, Milton.

Everything had a meaning

because I was in a new world,
my world.

And so it came to me,

why you had worked like a slave

to make me ready for this scholarship.

I've finished.

I didn't want you to stop.

- I have not been drinking.
- I know.

I can talk to you now.

Yes, I'm glad.

No sign of the boy on that train.

Never seen such a crowd in my life.

The whole village was down
at the station.

- Squire.
- Yes?

Great Scot!
There you are, Evans.

- Good day, sir.
- Any news, my boy?

They're sending the result
through the post.

The devil, they are.

You know this waiting is
becoming a definite strain.

- Squire, sit down.
- Thank you, my dear.

- Morgan.
- How are you, Mr. Jones?

- Well?
- The day after tomorrow.

Why, Mr. Morgan. Well?

The day after tomorrow.

- How are you, Morgan, dear.
- Very well, thank you.

The suspense is killing me.

Mr. Jones, would you light
the lamp for me, please?

Even the little children are worried
about the result of the examination.

They couldn't wait
until school was dismissed.

Little Idwal was the first.

How did you find the examiners,
my boy?

- Rather sticky, sir.
- A lot of old fogies, I expect.

Keep the change.

Morgan, my boy,

are you not exhausted
after the journey?

Would you not like something to eat?

- Well, I...
- Of course, how stupid of me.

You must be very hungry.

- Watty will fix you something.
- Thank you. Excuse me.

You seemed very anxious
to get him out of the room.

The most terrible thing...

How do you do, everybody?

Still the same old place, ain't it?

- Look who's here. Hello, Squire.
- How do you do?

I do like this. Class, ain't it?

How are you? Blooming?

Yes, thank you.

- What is this?
- Hello, Miss Ronberry.

How's geography, the world's
still goin' round in circles?

And to what do we owe this honor?

Well, you see, it's like this...

Yesterday, after I had
received my usual check,

I was lucky enough to be glancing
through the Mid-Wales Gazette.

And I've come here to congratulate
a certain young gent.

Just in case he has won
that scholarship.

What has that got to do with you?

Well, you see, Miss. It's like this.

- Four...
- Don't say it!

Don't say it.

Four weeks ago yesterday,

I had a baby.

- You had a what?
- A baby. A little stranger.

7 pounds, 13 ounces.

Good Heavens! How ghastly!

Where's that luggage?

Any news, sir?

Bessie!

My, you do look a dollymop!
Oh... excuse me, sir.

Say anything you like.

Where d'you get them bracelets?

- A present.
- Oh, that's all right.

- And what have you been up to?
- Turning you into a granny.

Fancy that!

You could 'ave knocked me
down with a feather!

Watty. Have you tended
to Morgan's luggage?

Hello. I've just been telling 'em.

You know what.

Now I think it's high time
you told us who the fellow is.

- Yes, dear. Who is it?
- Well, as a matter of fact...

No!

I'll pay you anything. Anything!

It's no good, Miss.

- It's Morgan Evans.
- What?

Oh, m'am...

I've been dreading this for months.

In a terrible way it's a relief.

Bamboozling me every week
that he was in a gutter.

I can't go on listening.
I can't bear it.

This horrible unnatural happening.

All I know is I have a baby,
kicking healthy and hungry.

And I haven't got a husband to keep it.

So his father's got
to turn into my husband.

It's only fair, ain't it?

I'm afraid, Miss Moffat,
I'm inclined to agree.

- I'll call him.
- There is no need to call him.

Why not?

I am sorry to say that I have a strong
feeling of affection for this young woman

And I am willing to do the
honorable thing

by rehabilitating her in wedlock.

And bestowing on the infant
every advantage

by bringing it up a proper Christian.

- Are you serious?
- I am always serious.

You'd love that, wouldn't you?

Now we're not pretendin'
it's a windfall,

but for a girl who's took
the wrong turnin', it's a present!

And you'd have your own way
in everything, wouldn't she, sir?

- Of course.
- Well, now. Will you?

No.

I'd like to oblige, really,
but I can't.

Besides, my Alf would be furious.

- Your Alf?
- Ever such a nice gentleman.

Sporting, quite a swell.

Owns a racecourse.

You needn't look like that.
I only met him ten weeks ago.

I never heard this kind
of conversation outside a police station.

I shall seek the purity
of the outside air.

I don't suppose you'd care
to make an offer, Squire?

What?

Gross impertinence!

Doesn't this man of yours
want to marry you?

He won't talk of anything else.
But he won't have the baby.

He said of course if the father
had been a pal of his

it might be different.

Now you can understand
that really, can't you?

I suppose Mr. Jones wouldn't
consider the baby without me.

The baby without you?
Your child?

What about your mother love?

I expect you'll think
I'm a very wicked girl.

But you know, I haven't got any.

You're inhuman. That's what you are!

To think that you don't even want it.

You want to make him
marry you on the chance

that he'll become fond enough
of the child to ensure it's future.

Your conscience will be clear
and later you can go off on your own.

- I shouldn't be surprised.
- In the meantime,

it is worthwhile to ruin
the future of the boy.

I know nothing about that, I am sure.

There must be some way out.

God bless us, mam. I got it!

- What?
- Why can't you adopt it?

Don't be ridiculous.

Would that do you, Bessie?

- Well, I never thought...
- Well, would it, though?

Yes, it would.

But what do I know about babies?
I don't even know what they look like.

They're lovely little things.
Now it's all arranged.

Oh, Watty, it would be fantastic.

Oh, do, please.

Don't you see?
It'll put everything to right.

I'd know the baby was safe.

Morgan Evans need never know
anything about it.

And I can marry my friend
and it will all be very beautiful.

It's mad, I tell you.

Besides, he might even
grow up to be quite nice

and turn out like his father.

Now, ma'am, you've been pushin' us
around for three years,

it's our turn to give you a shove!

But, Watty, you're the grandmother.
Surely you...

Oh, no, I couldn't.

I don't bear it no ill will.

But every penny I get
goes to the corpse.

You're the one, really you are.

Bessie Watty...

Do you mean to say that
if I should adopt this child...

Morgan Evans need never know.

- You swear?
- I swear.

Very well, then.

- I give in.
- Oh, that's lovely.

My friend will be pleased.

We'll arrange the details later,
shall we?

My friend gave me this buckle.
Nice ain't it?

He offered me a tiny one. Real.

But I think the false one is prettier.

Don't you?

Are you going to take up
a life of disrepute?

I shouldn't be a bit surprised.

That cold water didn't really
do the trick, did it, mumsy dear?

Goodbye, Miss Schoolteacher.

I only did it to spite you, you know.

You're not fit to touch
the hem of her garment!

Oh, yes I am!

Just because she's read a lot of books.

Books, books, look at them all.

I got more out of life at my age than
she has out o' them all her days.

And I'll get a lot more yet!

What d'you bet me?

Well now, that's settled.
Now a nice cup of tea for everybody.

I'll help you, Watty.

Has she gone?

- Why?
- The Squire has just told me.

Oh, fool! The idiotic fool!

Then it's true.

- He thought I knew.
- There is no need

for you to to upset yourself, my boy.

Miss Moffat is going
to take care of the child.

You are what?

I am going to adopt the child.

What the devil do you take me for...

Morgan, my boy.

We thought it was for the best.

- What would you like to do?
- What would I like to do?

It is not what I would like
but what I am going to do.

I am going to marry her.

I knew this would happen, I knew.

Bessie Watty and I are going
to get married as soon as we can.

And that is final!

Come in.

A telegram!

They sent it from Penlan.

I never seen a telegram before.

Read it, Miss Moffat.

I would like to know for once
what it says in a telegram.

You have won the scholarship, Morgan.

First, Evans,
Second, Fayver-Iles,

Third, Starling.

Congratulations!

Look at me, Morgan.

The first time we are together.

Our hearts are face to face unashamed.

The clock is ticking and
there is no time to lose.

If there was ever anybody
at the crossroads, you are now.

It's no good. I'm going to marry her.

And I am going to speak
to you very simply.

I'm going to ask you to change
suddenly from a boy to a man.

I understand that this
has been a great shock to you.

But I'm going to ask you to throw off
this passionate obstinacy

to do the right thing.

Have you ever asked
Bessie to marry you?

- No, never.
- Have you even told her

- you were in love with her?
- No, never.

That does not alter the fact
that I have a duty to them both.

She has her own plans
and does not want the child.

And if you do marry her,
you know what will happen, don't you?

You'll go back to the mine.

In two years' time
she will have left you both.

You will start drinking again,
only this time you won't stop.

And you will enjoy being this besotted
and uncouth village genius

who once showed such promise.

And it won't be worth it, you know that.

There is a child, living and
breathing on this earth,

and living and breathing because of me.

You merntioned the word
duty just now, didn't you?

Yes, you have a duty.

But it's not to this loose little lady,

or to her offspring either.

You mean duty to you?

No.

A year ago,
I would have said duty to me.

But that night you showed your teeth.

Caught me unawares, and I gave you
the worst possible answer.

I turned sorry for myself and
taunted you with ingratitude.

I was a dope not to realize
that a debt of gratitude

is the most humiliating debt of all.

And that a little show of
affection would have wiped it out.

I offer that affection to you now.

Why are you saying this to me now?

Because, as the moments are passing,
and I am going to have my way,

I know I shall never see you again.

Never again? But why?

If you are not to marry her,

it would be madness to
come to contact with the child.

And so, as I'm adopting the child,

you must not come to see me again.

That's only common sense.

You are being given that push
over the wall you asked for.

But you are staying here.

How can I never come back?

After everything you've done for me.

Do you remember,
for the past six months,

I've taken a long walk
over Moel Hiraeth,

every morning for my health?

Yes.

There's a bit of the road,
round a boulder

and there's an oak tree

and under it the valley
suddenly drops sheer.

Every morning regularly,
as I turned that corner,

by some trick of the mind,

I would find myself thinking
about you

working for this scholarship
and winning it.

And I experienced something
which after all is comparatively rare.

A feeling of complete happiness.

I shall experience it again.

No, Morgan Evans,
you have no duty to me.

Your only duty is to the world.

To the world?

Now you're going away,

there's no harm in telling you something.

I don't think you quite realize

what your future can become
if you give it the chance.

I rather made out to the Squire
I wanted you to become a writer

but stranger things have happened.

You have a great deal now, Morgan.

- But Oxford will give you the rest.
- But what?

Enough to become
a great man of our country.

"If a light come into the mine",
you said.

Remember?

Yes.

Make that light come in the mine
and some day free these children.

Oh, you can be more.
Much, much more.

You can be a man
for a future nation to be proud of.

Perhaps I'm mad, I don't know.

We'll see.
It's up to you.

Yes.

I think that's all.

I do not know what to say.

Then don't say anything.

I've been so much time in this room.

And the lessons are over.

I shall always remember.

Will you?
I'm glad you think you will.

Please, Miss Moffat, the band is out,
and they say Morgan

got to come down to Town Hall
for Wales to see a real toff!

Idwal, take this for Morgan.

Tyd, Morgan, Tyd, they're waiting for you.

Goodbye, Morgan.

Isn't it grand?
I've never felt so excited in my life.

I'm going outside
to have a look at the fun.

Makes me very proud, one of my boys
getting a scholarship at Oxford.

Pity it wasn't Cambridge.

- Is he gone?
- Yes, Watty.

Bessie sent a gentleman over
from the public house to see you.

- What's this?
- It's a birth certificate, m'am.

- I'd forgotten all about that.
- Come on, mam,

you've got to start sometime.

Moffat, my girl.
You mustn't be clumsy this time.

You mustn't be clumsy.

School tomorrow, the same as usual?

Yes, Ron.

Same as usual.