Original subtitles

The curse of God on you!

God bless him. Isn't he great for his age?

Miss Grubb, you bold thing, you're taking us home.

It's the third Sunday, the day for the cemetery.

I know. I thought you might like to pick up Master Godfrey.

Godfrey is not next or near the house.

Jesus!

He's at the dentist.

You have the height of luck, Mr. Doyle-Counihan.

Sunday dinnertime...

many a professional man might be intemperate.

Now, local anesthetic.

I got it at the local.

Mr. Clancy, suddenly I feel a lot...

That's what they all say. When you think of it...

this is the only place in the world...

where toothache is unknown.

Open up now, sir.

Think of your mammy's lovely house burning to the ground.

- Huh? - That's the stuff.

- Now, identification parade. - Uhh!

You'll tell me when I get warm, won't you?

- Fair dues now. - Ohh.

Aah! Aah!

Are you sure?

We're on the pig's back...

so I won't need to pull that bugger.

It'll walk out.

Still, no sense in discouraging business.

Ohh...

- Hold still now. - Aah!

- How's the mammy? - Mmm.

Fresh and well she's looking.

The woman, I always say, is born for widowhood.

It is her natural vocation.

The woman is incomplete until himself is six feet under.

Aah!

Who are you telling?

You, sir, are, as yet, a youngish man...

but you may have noticed...

that no sooner does a widow leave off wearing her weeds...

than people are never done telling her how ravaging...

how ravishing she looks.

Would you say, now, that is why your own mammy...

having been twice bereaved...

is ahead of the field in the beauty stakes?

No one's going to tell me I don't disinfect.

I dote on women, so I do.

I could look at them until the cows came home.

Mr. Doyle-Counihan, I would not, at this minute...

be putting you through the agony of the damned...

except that the first I set foot in this town...

I saw her...

Miss Katherine O'Hare...

a jewel, a skylark in the hen house.

She's as poor as Job's ass in a town that's as rich as God.

She has the smallest house...

and the sweetest smile on Widows' Peak.

There's a secret about her, would you say?

Where does she fit in?

If you know, don't, whatever you do, tell me.

I like a woman with a bit of mystery.

Oh, the first day I clapped eyes on that one...

I made up my mind.

If she ends up as anyone's widow, it'll be as mine...

or I'll swing for her.

Aah!

I have good news for you.

Back that at a hundred to eight, you bollocks, you.

Ladies, that'll do.

Enough's enough. We don't want to spoil them.

Uhh!

Oh, Mrs. Lacey, no getting morbid.

If you please, ladies. It's a busy day for us.

Anything stirring, Miss Grubb?

It's Clancy the dentist. He's calling on Miss O'Hare.

Oh, show.

It's too late. They've gone in.

The silly woman.

You'd think she'd had enough of that sort of carry-on.

I do hear tell he is overly fond of his jar.

He's a man. That's enough.

- What, dear? - I said he takes the snuff.

Oh.

Good morning, Miss O'Hare.

I hope I didn't hunt your visitor.

Oh, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan, not at all.

Mr. Clancy was just admiring my roses.

Sure, why wouldn't he? Would you like a jaunt?

- Excuse me? - Get in next to me.

"Sure, where's the harm," says you, "in a bit of style?"

How are you, ma'am?

People do pay me compliments on my roses.

I do tell them there's not a ha'p'orth of skill involved.

A weenie bit of loving care, maybe.

Mind, I'll own up to it.

I wouldn't mind one day to grow a rose of my own.

- And you will, please God. - I don't know.

But if I ever do, I'll call it the Widows' Peak.

You'll what?

In honor of our little kingdom and how snug we are in it.

My dear, I hope you'll do no such thing.

Widows' Peak?

That's the name used by all the jealous boots in the town.

Miss Grubb, slow down.

It's the Lucy girl.

The poor creature.

What poor?

Now, we gave her every chance, so we did.

Get it adopted, we said to her.

But, no, she'd sooner make a show of herself and of us.

Where will she go?

Where do you think she'll go?

Why else did God in his goodness invent England?

A new rose, now that'll be nice for you.

And, of course, it means you won't be leaving us.

Is it me?

For gracious sake, why would I want to leave?

Now, aren't people scandalous?

The way they talk, I mean, about yourself and Mr. Clancy.

About...

Corner-boy gossip. But don't mind it.

The word is, he's popped the question.

Hello. Hello.

- The question? - One question or the other.

Excuse me?

And we all know what the other is.

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan...

Mr. Clancy is a gentleman through and through.

He would never dream...

Miss O'Hare, do you see the green in my eye?

Now, listen here. You know me of an old date...

and I'm not one to rub vinegar into a cut...

but it doesn't do to have too short a memory.

I mean, we don't want that carry-on a second time.

- Once bitten... - Yes!

And a woman of your years...

Has the man no decorum?

So it's true, then?

Old Mrs. Melody's cottage has been sold.

Now, there's another excitement.

Well, I'm too old a dog to act in breach of my instructions.

Your revered mother... R.I.P...

laid down the terms under which property on Widow's...

on the hill may be leased...

no children under adulthood, no males of any kind...

except in the case of your son Master Godfrey...

and no married or single ladies...

unless by exceptional consent of the residents.

In short, ma'am, all is well.

Oh, rather, the new owner of Melody Cottage...

is, unhappily, a widow.

Unhappily.

And, what is more, a war widow...

or, at least, a postwar widow.

Her husband, Major Broome, V. C...

recently died of wounds received in 1918.

Will you go to God? A V.C.? Do you mean...

Are you saying he was in the English army?

No, he was with the Germans.

Wait till word gets out.

And do you mean that that man's wife is coming here?

If you please, Miss O'Hare, I'm talking.

Now, I can't say I'm partial to military men.

They have a coarseness I can do without...

but a medal now is different...

especially when it's from what they call...

For valor?

Posthumous, I was going to say.

Posthumous is nice.

And his wife? There are no children?

You're certain?

The lady is a bird alone.

In fact, she should be flying in just anytime now.

Shit!

Hey!

Damn it.

Oh, my...

Had a puncture?

No, my car threw me.

Let me give you a hand.

- Ha ha. - Ha ha, yourself.

Thanks, but don't you think...

you might get dirt on that fancy dress of yours?

A few spots? Who cares?

The very thing.

Mrs. Broome, isn't that it?

Ten out of ten.

I saw the removals van.

I'm Godfrey Doyle-Counihan.

The mammy and I live up the hill from you.

- Up Widows' Peak. - Widows'...

In Kilshannon, Mrs. Broome...

widows are as plentiful as freckles on a redhead.

Maybe you knew that.

I came to Kilshannon for the climate.

What climate? We're in Ireland.

Was I misinformed? Before you jack up the car...

aren't you supposed to put a stone or a wedge...

under the wheel to keep it from...

Mrs. Broome, would you say...

that I'm doing you a small favor right now?

Don't tell me you want a favor in return.

Nothing of a disgusting nature.

Now, it's just that when you meet the mammy...

and you will, don't let on to her that I can change a tire.

- Why? - Well, God rest her...

she thinks that I'm like the rest of the men, you know?

A bit helpless, bit of a namby-pamby.

You know what mammies are like.

So I put on an act for her.

I pretend I'm helpless without her.

She'd never get over it...

if she thought that I wasn't in the least bit helpless...

that I could do things with my hands...

like changing a tire.

Ahem.

I'll keep your secret.

Oh, look.

Are you in trouble?

Well, let's just say if I had a bad reputation...

you're doing it the power of good.

Whoa! You've arrived.

Excuse us.

- I was married, you know. - Yes.

And I still like a good stretch.

I'm sorry I can't offer you tea.

No teapot, no cups, no sugar, no cream, no tea.

I could, uh, light a fire.

A Boy Scout. I'm sure you could.

Tell me, do you have a maid?

Not until now.

You'll need one.

Up here on the Peak...

having someone in to polish your silver...

marks the point where women leave off and ladies begin.

I don't make the rules.

The women do. Or rather, the ladies.

And each one of them has a maid.

After you've been a widow for thirty or forty years...

having a chaperone around the house...

may not be a necessity, but it does wonders for the morale.

Mr. Doyle-Counihan, I think you're a brat.

So let me give you a tip.

Out of the goodness of her heart...

first thing the mammy will do is find you a maid...

and ten to one, it'll be Mata Hari.

- Oh, yes? - Maddie O'Hara, that is.

During the recent Troubles...

Dublin Castle had an intelligence network...

that was only legendary.

Maddie would knock them the lot of them into a cocked hat.

The sorrowful fact is that where Mata Hari is concerned...

there is no such place as no man's land.

- How many times? - Fourteen, Canon.

She takes the front line with her as she goes.

- Was he married? - My sister's husband, Canon.

Oh, dear, dear God.

Did you take pleasure in it?

I... I didn't mind.

Oh, dear, dear, dear God.

Trot out the details. Spare me nothing.

So, Mrs. Broome, tell this poor admirer...

Is that what you are?

What brought a beautiful woman like you...

to maybe end up on Widows' Peak?

Truthfully.

When we're better acquainted.

Bargain.

There, that'll put a bit of warmth into you.

It's taking nicely. It'll be roaring in no time.

Well, I'll love you and leave you then, so.

Oh, and remember, next time you see me with herself...

don't let on to her that I'm such a handyman.

Mammy's the word.

Aha! Good luck now. See you soon.

I can't wait.

Is this Mrs. Broome that's in it?

Yes. Hello.

I'm Mrs. Doyle-Counihan. What way are you?

God bless you, you're as welcome here as rain in a drought.

Thank you, I...

Creature, you, what are you doing...

sitting where the people from the town sit?

Move down with us. Yes, you will. Now, up you get.

No, really, I...

Now, don't be shy. There's buckets of room.

Now, I say you will.

Excuse me, I'm sorry.

Thank you, but, really, I was quite comfortable.

- It's not the thing. - What?

We keep separate from the townies.

We don't mix, dear. That's the custom.

Well, at least, some of us don't.

Miss O'Hare, make room. There's a good woman.

Now, down you sit.

Isn't it a massive film?

I do hear tell you see God in the second half.

Miss Grubb, have you anything sweets?

So, tell, how are you settling in?

Yeah, no, wait. Where is my manners?

Mrs. Broome, this is Miss O'Hare.

Oh, butter wouldn't melt, but a great character.

How do you do?

Ah, Miss Grubb...

why are you tempting me, you bold strap, you?

Will I, won't I?

Will I, will I, will I?

I'll introduce you to the other ladies back at the house.

We're all going there for tea after the film.

Now, what was I asking you?

Oh, yes. Are you settled in?

I think so. It was a bit confusing to begin with.

The pace is so different in Ireland.

But I'm beginning to get the hang of it.

But you're not English after all.

Pardon me?

What I mean is, your accent is American, isn't it?

Oh, Lord, is it so noticeable?

Yes, well, I grew up in America, in Washington.

My father was military attache at the embassy there.

- Oh. - The British embassy, that is.

Ah... grand.

Here comes God.

Thank you.

Then after the war...

I... I went to France...

to visit Nigel's... my husband's grave.

I suppose one might call it a pilgrimage.

And they gave him a medal?

A what? The V.C., yes.

And I couldn't bring myself to go back to England...

not to live there on my own.

We hadn't been blessed with children.

So I went south, to the Riviera.

I took a house at Antibes.

I was there seven years, since 1919.

And then I left, and here I am.

And where else would you want to live?

Nobody in their senses would live in France.

What made you decide to honor us, Mrs. Broome?

Don't tell me you were tired of the blue sea...

and the palm trees and the sunshine.

No. No, in many ways, I was sorry to leave.

But you did.

Miss O'Hare, you're being inquisitive.

If Mrs. Broome had a mind...

to move out of one place and go live in another...

isn't it her own affair?

Ladies, amn't I right?

- Yes. - Of course.

I enjoyed living in the south of France.

There's no secret why I left. I... I had to.

And as I say, I didn't want to go back to England.

There were too many...

painful memories.

You had to leave?

Well, I hardly like to say.

I'm sure.

You see...

It is Miss O'Hare, isn't it?

I had been married, and, uh...

now I was a widow, and I was still...

forgive me, quite young.

And my husband had seen to it...

that I was not uncomfortably off.

- Oh. - Ooh.

I left Antibes because... because of men.

Because of fortune hunters.

Oh, wasn't that woeful for you, you creature, you.

Well, it was probably time to go, in any case.

I missed hearing my own language spoken...

and I missed the kind of climate...

where you get snow and sunshine and rain and fog...

all in one day.

And Nigel had often spoken so affectionately of Ireland.

He loved this country so.

He told me how he used to come here for the shooting.

Really? What did he shoot... Irishmen?

Uh, Miss O'Hare, honest to God.

Why not? It isn't as if we're ever out of season.

Mrs. Broome, don't mind a bit of her.

Miss O'Hare has had family misfortunes.

- Oh, dear. - Oh.

And even so, we don't talk about such low goings on...

as wars and massacres and people getting shot.

No. We leave all that to the men...

seeing as they're good for nothing else.

Would you say that includes Englishmen as well?

Miss O'Hare, I think you've exceeded your allowance.

Anyway, the fighting and troubles and such...

aren't they all behind us and in the past?

No.

Uh, another piece of sweet cake, Mrs. Broome?

No, no refusals, no.

Yes, you will, just in your hand. Godfrey.

How wonderful it must be, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan...

to have a son who's so helpful.

Oh, Godfrey's a wonder.

We'd be lost without him.

He's the only man here who's worth his salt.

A man? God forgive you, Dolores Furlong.

She wants to put ideas into his head.

He's all I have, Mrs. Broome.

Oh, go on. You're an old cod.

Still, the mammy and I are great pals.

Oh, how lovely.

Are you in business, Mr. Doyle-Counihan?

Godfrey.

I do have a profession, yes... the law.

But I don't practice much these days.

There's too many little jobs to be done around the house.

Oh, poor Godfrey. Sure, he tries.

I'm sure.

That reminds me, I'll be needing a housemaid...

and I was wondering if you might...

With a heart and a half.

In fact, there was one woman I heard about...

who sounds like a pearl beyond price.

What was her name?

Oh, yes. Maddie O'Hara.

Oh, dear.

So, what do you think?

About the widow?

Well, would you not say you could do a lot worse?

Fortune hunters she ran away from.

You could be well-matched.

Oh, son, put away your toy. Your mammy's talking.

I'm not one of those mothers...

that thinks they can hold on to a son down all eternity.

Oh, you'll go from me someday, I know that.

So, now, what do you think of her?

Now, Mammy, stop it. No matchmaking.

I'll decide whether I like Mrs. Broome or not.

You wasteful child, you.

What do you think Mammy is for?

Why do you think there's nothing but all divorces...

in America and England?

Because people choose for themselves, that's why.

It's scandalous.

I think I'll call upon her Saturday afternoon...

and ask her to go for a stroll by the lake.

You do. Do.

And pretend you're as good as ten carpenters.

Yes. Make yourself useful.

Yeah.

A widow. That's good.

She knows what there is to know...

and her stomach would have been turned by it.

She'll have learned her lesson.

She won't harm a hair of you.

I have made inquiries in the neighborhood...

and really, Miss O'Hara...

Or Maddie. May I call you Maddie?

You sound like absolute perfection.

Nothing but the highest praise, a treasure.

Oh, heavens, I shouldn't have said that.

Now you'll want more money.

Well, let's not quibble. Shall we say...

whatever you were getting at your last place...

plus five shillings a week?

I do, however, have two firm rules...

that we must agree on from the start.

The first is no gossiping. I will not have what happens...

or is said in this house talked about.

Gossip? Is it me? Oh, no, no.

Please, I wasn't for a moment suggesting that...

I swear on the grave of my mother that's dead and gone...

It isn't necessary.

If a word of gossiping or carrying stories...

ever passed my lips or ever will pass them...

may I be put sitting on the hottest hob in purgatory...

and may I splutter steam...

Please, I...

Until Good Friday falls on a Saturday.

Maddie... Miss O'Hara...

I was merely stating a little rule of mine.

The fact is, everyone I've spoken to in Kilshannon...

agrees that they haven't heard...

one word of scandal pass your lips.

They what?

They say one could as soon get gossip...

out of the old town hall clock.

- Excuse me? - And as for the other rule...

I can't abide doors or drawers or cupboards...

that are under lock and key.

It's a little fetish of mine.

I like everything open and accessible...

so of course I do need a person such as yourself...

who... who doesn't pry...

who respects the privacy of her employer.

Is that too eccentric on my part?

I'm dead. That's what it is.

I've died and gone to heaven.

- Good evening. - You're ready.

Guess what. I've had an idea.

- You... you look... - Oh, good.

I thought, as you've been so kind...

as to take pity on a lady who's all alone...

I thought, why not make the most...

of its being Saturday night...

and instead of a walk, why not a dance?

Good God.

Whenever Nigel was on leave...

we'd go dancing every evening and all at the Savoy.

People nicknamed us the Castles. You've heard of them?

Vernon and Irene Castle from America.

Oh, well, the fact is...

Oh, don't tell me there's no place we can go.

I have a car. I can drive us into Limerick.

Well, the fact is that around here...

unless there's a party or a hunt ball...

Don't tell me there isn't any.

- Well... - No music at all?

- Well, yeah... - Good. Let's go.

Yes, but you have to be a certain...

Maddie, I'll be back before midnight.

If my luck runs out.

You don't get my drift.

This is not the kind of dancing that you... Oh!

This place we're going to...

Katy Daly's.

Who did you say?

It's what it's called.

I ought to warn you, it isn't exactly the Savoy in London.

For heaven's sake, Godfrey Doyle-Counihan...

don't you think I can make allowances?

Potted palms, four old ladies...

a harp, a violin, a piano, and a cello.

Who cares?

Con. Mr. Clancy.

How in the world do you do that?

It's the same as pulling teeth, only in reverse.

That woman...

she's that peculiar friend of your mother's.

Miss O'Hare.

She oughtn't be here no more than us.

Mind you, she's mad.

She doesn't like the English much, does she?

I don't know why the mammy and the other old dears...

bother to bid her the time of day.

They're such snobs, and she's poor as a church mouse.

Yes, why is that? Have you ever thought to ask?

I did once. I said to the mammy...

"What's the secret?

"What is this hold that Miss O'Hare has over you?"

And do you know what she said?

"Ask me no questions, child, and I'll tell you no"...

Oh. It's over.

Stay out of the ditches.

Good evening, Miss O'H...

Cold for the time of year, isn't it?

And now, ladies and gentlemen...

the next dance will be an old-time waltz.

Ladies' choice.

And for this dance...

the special spot prize will be two tickets...

for the premiere performance of that great film...

"The Big Parade," starring John Gilbert.

Ladies' choice.

Does ladies' choice mean that I'm supposed...

Hey, mister, would you be on for a dance?

Uh, I'd... I'd, uh, I'd be delighted.

Jesus, I'm made for life.

Would you like to?

I was ready to slash my wrists.

Shall we?

Lovely orchestra, isn't it?

Do you come here often?

Terribly jolly, isn't it?

Jesus.

Now, now, now. Everybody stay where ye are.

Don't move a muscle!

Off you go, Mrs. Fogerty.

Take five paces forward:

Over here!

Not a jig out of anyone!

One, two, three, four, five.

Are you there, Mrs. Fogerty?

I am.

OK. So now, um, turn right!

Take three paces!

One, two, three.

Yes?

Now, now, now, turn left.

Take six paces!

One, two, three, four, five, six.

Yes?

And now, last of all, and for the prize...

turn left again.

Oh. Something disgusting stuck on my shoe.

And take two short paces!

One, two.

Oh, I'm so sorry. I lost my balance.

Have we a winner?

- We have! - Excuse me.

Come back here!

There ye are. And the great style of ya!

Who deserves it better?

I deserve it better! That woman pushed me.

- Oh, Katherine. - With all her strength.

Pushed you? I did no such thing.

That's a lie.

How dare you. I fell against you accidentally.

Yeah, to be sure you did.

The same your lot have been falling against us...

for 700 years, accidentally.

I see.

I'll take that, if you please.

You will not.

While there's breath in my body, you will not.

- Kindly let go. - Katherine, give it to her.

No!

Miss O'Hare, I have no desire for a public quarrel...

least of all in public.

As far as this prize is concerned...

- You're welcome to it. - Thank you.

Just as soon as you own up...

that I did not push you deliberately.

Ha!

Katherine, Katherine, just leave it.

Hey, Mossie, you're slipping.

You ought to dance with a better class of mot.

Huh?

That one would take the pennies off a corpse's eyes.

Ha ha ha!

Ooh!

Hey, hey, hey! No rowdyism!

That's mine.

Then take them.

If women don't want them tickets, I do!

Ooh, Con, what's happening?

You should know. You started it.

Can you not do something?

Sure, if one of them needs a dentist.

Ohh!

I'm new here. I don't know that woman.

I've never done her any harm, and yet she hates me.

Why?

Because you're English.

Is that the reason, really?

No.

Mrs. Broome...

Edwina.

Edwina.

Did you really bump into Miss O'Hare by accident?

Of course.

Well, good night. Thank you. Most of it was lovely.

Thank you. And I really enjoyed the drive.

Perhaps next week we could, uh...

Come for tea on Monday. We'll talk about it.

Oh! By the way...

the mammy wants you to sit on the Ladies' Committee.

It's to do with town planning and things like that.

It's as dull as a wet Good Friday.

I'll think about it.

I wouldn't if I were you. Good night.

Good night.

Oh, why did you ignore my advice about Mata Hari?

Don't you know that your private life...

will become knowledgeable throughout...

the length and breadth of the twenty-six counties?

I don't mind in the least.

I don't have any secrets.

Good night.

Good night.

If you'll excuse me saying so, dear...

dance halls are for people not like us.

Now, I don't blame you, not a bit.

You're English.

You have no idea about social distinctions.

Miss O'Hare was at the dance.

Yes, well...

She's one of... us.

She is, and she isn't.

She's half and half.

What has she got against me?

I've tried to be friendly, but it's war to the knife. Why?

Why, why? "Y" is a crooked letter, pet.

- What does that mean? - I haven't the remotest.

Why don't you have a talk with her?

Yeah, be nice.

- I have been nice. - Be nicer.

Put yourself in the right and her in the wrong.

Oh, there's Godfrey!

Mammy! Ha ha!

Coo-ee!

She wins prizes for her roses...

every year at the Adare flower show.

Tell her how you never saw the likes of them.

Miss O'Hare.

Maddie, I'd like to talk to Miss O'Hare...

privately, if you don't mind.

I brought you a peace offering.

It's just some fruit from my garden.

I have no use for it really.

The fruit, I mean, not the garden.

Miss O'Hare, don't you think...

we could at least talk like grownups?

If I've done anything to offend you...

I promise you that it simply wasn't intended.

I knew in my heart it was no use coming here...

but at least I tried.

If we're not friends, it's by your choice, not mine.

Good-bye.

Would you look at the face of her?

What ails the woman?

What badness is in her?

Is there any rhyme or reason to it?

I don't know. She's rude and hateful...

and there's no reason to it.

No!

Ma'am, them's the ones for the flower show.

She said, "I brought you a gift. "

Next.

Ladies, are you coming in, or aren't you?

And then you know what happened?

She went over to the prize rose bush...

and she broke two of them off and threw them on the ground.

This is a likely spot.

- For what? - A proposal.

How did you know?

My late husband proposed to me in the Lake District.

He believed water was romantic.

Your own mother's never done saying...

that all men are alike, so...

Well, in that case, it should be...

like marrying the same man twice.

I came here to be rid of men.

Fortune hunters. That excludes me.

We have pots of money, and so have you.

Otherwise you wouldn't be huntable.

There are those who would say we were well matched.

Including your mammy?

Especially the mammy.

You want to be rid of men?

Marry one.

I don't like idlers.

I'll go back to the law.

I don't like lawyers. They consort with criminals.

No, they don't. They consort with other lawyers.

That's what I said.

Isn't there some family business...

selling bottled mineral water from the spa?

Yes. That's how we made our money...

but the well dried up years ago.

Then import some water.

Better still, use ordinary water...

and whatever makes it taste disgusting.

My God, you're as crooked as any lawyer.

Aren't I just?

When I receive your proposal, I'll consider it.

Meanwhile, it's customary...

to provide a sample of goods on offer.

Um...

Who's going to provide the sample?

Think of it as mutual.

Tit for tat.

Bloody fool!

What do you mean, fool? That's my car!

Stop it!

Aah!

You say the woman on the bicycle was too far off...

to identify as Miss O'Hare?

Well, allow me, if you'll pardon the expression,

to mark your card, ma'am.

Even if you could identify her, and it was Miss O'Hare...

there's not a shred of evidence...

to say that she tampered with your motor car.

Then who else could have done it?

That's not a question a judge would put to a jury...

especially not if the jury and the defendant was Irish...

and the plaintiff was English.

It was she. I know it was.

Ma'am, I have a son in Trinity College...

and a wife who says that without a fur coat...

she'll die of pneumonia...

so I could do with a fat lawsuit that would last a week.

I could assure it tomorrow against Miss O'Hare.

Then do it.

You'd lose...

and the Irish are a litigious race.

She'd bring a countersuit against you...

and the upshot would be...

that she'd never need to take a lodger ever again.

A lodger?

Aye. The poor thing hasn't 2 ha'pennies to rub together...

so from June to September, she rents out a room.

No. If you sue Miss O'Hare...

you'll be backing the wrong horse.

She's too well liked.

Then what am I to do? There's no end to her malice.

She's called me a thief in public.

My car was almost wrecked.

What next?

She's a harmless soul...

a relic of old decency.

Between ourselves and these four walls...

what did you do to her? Own up.

Nothing. Well, not really.

Anyway, she started it.

It's because I'm English.

Are you codding me?

Mr. Gaffney, I see no humor...

Because you're English?

Yes. For some reason...

she loathes and detests anyone who...

And who do you think her lodgers are?

Tourists on holiday...

from London and Liverpool and Birmingham.

They come back year after year...

because no landlady has ever made them...

feel so much at home as Miss O'Hare does.

She hates you because you're English?

Come on, now.

You'll have to do better than that for a yarn.

Ma'am! Ma'am! It's on the wall.

What? What are you talking about?

Oh, ma'am, what's writ on it.

Writ? What do you mean, writ?

You mean written? Written where?

The one thing I won't be is a hindrance.

Seeing as the regatta's upon us...

I'll do my bit, same as always.

The Ladies' Committee won't even know I'm gone.

Ah, will we not? You think so?

And you, you'd throw away 30 years.

Now, change your mind. Yes, you will.

If that woman is on the committee...

But she lives here.

She's entitled to be on it, as you are.

Katherine, it's not too late.

Now, what began as a quarrel is turning into a scandal.

There's talk of graffiti.

I know nothing about that.

And her motorcar won't be mended for a month.

Oh, she's clever. I'll give her that.

It's all my doing.

Poor Miss O'Hare that's gone astray in the head.

It's all to be laid at my door.

And she's you fooled as well.

Me? How?

The car and the paint...

and what happened at the dance.

Don't you see that she's the one behind it all?

It's part of what she's been up to.

And what's that when it's at home?

I think it's to do away with me.

To...

Because she knows I can see through her.

I gave myself away...

the first time I clapped eyes on her.

Maybe she credits me with being smarter than I am...

but at least I know a gold ring...

from the brass one you'd find in a sweet cake on Halloween.

A gold ring?

I'm talking about her...

about her not being what she pretends to be...

and that's maybe why one of these dark nights...

poor Miss O'Hare will walk into the lake in her madness.

- Into the... - Don't you see it?

Are you blind? She's up to murder.

Miss O'Hare.

Well, ma'am, did you talk her out of it?

Quite the opposite, Mr. Clancy.

I think she's tired of slaving for the committee.

She ought to rest herself for a month or so.

Aye, with all my doors and windows locked.

Watch her.

- What? - I said watch her.

She trusts you in her innocence.

I don't, not so far as I could throw you...

or the whole seed and breed of youse.

But I'm telling you to look after her, to mind her.

What is it that ails her?

I don't know. She has queer ideas.

Has it to do with the past?

What?

I mean before I came to Kilshannon.

I know there was something...

because, well, I'm fond of her.

And I ask her about how it was...

the time she was growing up, about herself.

She won't answer me.

She looks out of the window or at the lake...

but not at me.

So what is it?

I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Clancy.

There's nothing in the past.

Nothing.

Would you like a hot cup?

There you go! There you go!

Easy now, son! Not too quick!

Hold it, hold it, hold it, hold it! Easy, easy!

Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on.

Take it easy. Not too quick.

Steady...

Go on, go on, go on. There you go.

Oh, Con! I'll fall in!

Not a bit of you! Hold on!

Hey! Come back!

What about me?

- Admiral. - Good to see you.

Grand. You're here.

Well, come on. We'll get aboard, huh?

Well, what's the rush?

Well, the rally's in Inishkeen...

and the harbor's a little on the tiny side...

so the boats that get there last...

have to moor out on the lake.

Is that so bad?

Well, it's all right rowing ashore...

but rowing back to the cruiser isn't.

Do you mean because of the currents on the lake?

No, I mean because of the pubs on the land.

- Mrs. Broome. - Hello.

Right, everybody. Let's get aboard.

Come along, Mammy. Lend a hand, Miss Grubb.

What fun!

Right, Mammy. Come on. Up you get.

Up, up, up. That's it.

I think I'd better go in the car.

No, no, no, you won't. Come. Get in the boat.

- Oh, Godfrey! - That's it. Stop it, now.

Up you get. Lovely. Hands and shoulders up! Lovely.

I wouldn't go next to or near a boat...

only the doctor told me I needed exercise.

That's right. That's it, Mammy. Down below.

What next?

I never dreamed. I had no idea.

- What? - That Ireland was like this.

I'm so glad I came here. It's perfect.

Almost perfect.

Well, the "almost" can be rectified.

Say you'll marry me.

On this lake and under this sky?

The gods would strike us dead for our impertinence. No.

I'll say it on dry land.

- You will? - Godfrey!

Oh, that's all right. The boat will steer itself.

Look, not a feather out of it.

You'll say yes then?

Today I'd say yes if Miss O'Hare invited me...

to drink a glass of her own blackcurrant wine.

Not bad.

You'll do.

Yes, you'll definitely do.

Is that her up ahead... the old witch, Miss O'Hare?

Yes.

Oh!

Just hold the wheel lightly.

That's it. Gentle. Be gentle. Just a touch.

Pretend she's a woman.

You say the loveliest things.

Godfrey, will Miss O'Hare get to...

wherever it is we're going ahead of us?

Inishkeen.

We're faster, but they've got a head start.

If we opened her up, we could make it.

We could be first round Hamilton Point...

and then again, we might not.

Then open her up, my future husband.

Whoo!

Oh!

She gaining on us. I think it's a race.

Godfrey, stupid child, put the brakes on!

Won't it go any faster?

There are too many small boats around.

It's considered bad form.

We're not going to overtake them.

There's not enough water between us and the point.

You're heading for the shallow! Go back to the channel!

We've done it! We'll be in first!

- Yes! - Good girl yourself!

Better luck next year!

Ha ha!

Jesus, they're on top of us.

We're never going to overtake them.

There's no room!

Then they can very well move over.

Look, do you want to see them on a shoal?

Do I? Oh, heavens to Betsy, what a terrible idea.

Edwina! Throttle back!

Let go of me.

Oh!

Get over!

Aah!

- Get back! - Aah!

Oh!

Did you see what he did?

- Tighten those sheets! - Hold 'er steady.

Katherine, are you hurt?

Ohh...

I'm fine.

Are we sinking? I can't swim.

It won't be necessary.

One of the few advantages of going aground...

is that you can walk ashore.

- Do you need a hand? - Are you hurt?

Can you hold on? There's boats coming!

Can I throw you a line?

No! Don't let him.

Don't let them come near us.

Don't worry, I won't.

What are you trying to do, son?

Tow us out into deep water so you can sink us properly?

Well, at least let me help you aboard!

No!

It's all right. We won't want for rescuing.

If the weather holds...

you'll be back on the lake inside of a month.

All you need is a denture and a bit of bridgework.

I'm sure.

What's a couple of cracked bicuspids?

You'll be sailing this boat till you're a hundred.

Another 80 years, what?

Miss O'Hare, can I just say that we...

my family, that is, will gladly pay for the repairs.

There, now.

It was my fault entirely.

I shouldn't have let Edwina... Mrs. Broome... take the wheel.

I don't suppose there's any point in asking...

if it would be possible for her to say how sorry she is?

I mean, it would just make the day perfect for us...

because we're actually going to announce...

that we're going to be engaged.

Oh, well.

That's great news. Engaged, what?

God send youse good luck.

What do you say, Katherine?

She completely lost her head.

Didn't know the rules of the river.

Don't pass on the right.

Pass on the right.

No, it was just high spirits and lack of river sense...

so obviously, we wouldn't like anything to spoil our...

She tried to kill us.

What?

Murder was what I said. And I was right.

Ah, woman, you're raving.

While we've been sitting here, I worked it out.

What she'd a mind to do was to ram us in the midstream...

where the water's 40 feet deep.

Are the pair of you blind?

Can't you see what was going on in that murderous brain of hers?

And she'll try it again.

As long as she's not found out, she'll go on trying.

All right, Con?

Is this seat taken?

- No, no. Quite all right. - Thanks.

Whoo! Ha ha ha ha!

Absolutely fantastic!

I say!

I thought you said it was dead around here.

It must be one of them mirages.

You don't hear a mirage. You see it, you hick.

I love men when they're witty.

Excuse me, dear madam...

but might one inquire what the occasion is?

If it's public.

It's the regatta dance...

for the regatta and the rally.

Excellent. And forgive me...

but are there nonteetotal beverages available?

Not for the likes of them that's had enough.

I don't know you. Go 'way from me.

We don't know him, either, missis.

We gave him a lift from outside Nenagh.

Permit me, ma'am. First Lieutenant Rokesby...

of His Majesty's ship "Heroic. "

Lads, will we go to the old dance? Say we will.

At your service, ma'am.

The fact is, I've had a somewhat checkered 24 hours.

Fell into bad company in Dublin last night...

and missed my ship.

Courtesy visit, you know, not bombardment.

So I thought I'd catch up with it in Cork...

and took the road to Limerick by mistake.

Going to be the devil to pay.

- That serves you right. - I suppose it does.

- And the devil's cure to you. - Well, thanks very much.

Hey, admiral.

Is someone calling?

- Hey, limey, are you coming in? - Oh, yes, why not?

Lord knows where I'm going to sleep tonight.

Oh, I say. Are you going, too?

Good. I have a partner.

Go away from me. Go on. Shoo. Shoo.

Drunken Englishman.

Thank you. Keep the change.

You came in. Grand.

How do you feel? Are you all well in yourself?

Oh, yes. I think I'd like to go home, actually.

Excuse me, most gracious lady.

But may I have the pleasure of this dance?

No, you may not. Go 'way.

One small circuit of the floor is all I crave...

or at least to as far...

as where they're serving refreshments.

Am I in my own country at all, or amn't I?

They're everywhere I go, tormenting me!

Can't you see you're annoying the lady?

- That'll do you now. - Are you saying I offend her?

Not at all. It's just she's not in form for dancing.

If it's a drink you want, it's down there. Good lad.

So much for the friendly Irish.

To you.

Uhh!

Good God, it is!

It's you! Well, I'm damned.

Excuse me?

You... here, of all places.

My God, they do say it's a small world.

I'm sorry. I've never seen you before.

Yes, you have. Don't talk gammon, old girl.

But where the devil was it? And I've forgotten your name.

Wait. You tell me who I am.

You're mistaken. I really don't know you.

Now, you're making a nuisance of yourself.

The lady doesn't know you. Come on, Edwina.

Edwina? No, no, that's not it.

Yes. Now I remember. It was at Antibes.

We'd put in at Monaco for repairs, and you...

Oh, my God: Yes! I don't believe it.

You, here, of all places.

How damn priceless.

I don't... Godfrey, I need some fresh air.

Yes, but they're going to make the announcement about us.

Fine. Well, let them.

Yes, but we have to be here. Everyone's going to applaud...

For Christ's sakes, Godfrey! Do you have to be so childish?

Con! Why don't you treat Mr...

- Rokesby, ma'am. - Rokesby to a drink?

- Thanks very much. - Sure.

And of hope and glory

We'll take Barney Murphy's horse and trap...

and I'll be back to him inside the hour.

A few more steps and a good night's sleep...

and you'll be as right as the rain.

I have no drink in the house.

- What? - For him.

- He wants more drink? - I want more drink.

Wha... what's going on? Why are we here?

Be quiet.

Up you get. Can you manage it?

Oh! Splendid Irish hospitality.

Infinitely obliged!

Don't worry. You'll sing for your supper.

- There you are. - Right.

- You got the door open? - No.

- Home already? - Oh, yes.

All ashore that's going ashore!

You'll frighten the horses.

You'll frighten the neighbors.

Steady, now.

Home, sweet home.

Oh, God. Time for beddy-byes.

Oh, no, Mr. Rokesby, the night is still young.

You and I are going to have a little drink.

Just first tell me...

Just you and I, as snug as two bugs.

I don't like just driving off...

and leaving you on your own with him for the whole night.

Oh, aren't you a gorgeous man?

You're jealous.

You're as good as a tonic.

No, I'll be safe with Mr. Rokesby.

Even when the English are murdering you...

they're always pure gentlemen.

Well, if you're sure...

Good night, Con.

Good night, Katherine.

Good night, Maddie.

Good night, Miss...

Oh! Tsk!

Now, then...

I'll be your sweetheart

If you will be mine

Good evening, Maddie.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Are these what you were looking for?

I suppose you remembered that you'd forgotten...

to re-seal my letters after you'd steamed them open.

What? May God forgive you.

I never. May I drop down dead.

- It's the weather. - I beg your pardon?

Rain one minute, sun the next.

Sure nothing sticks.

I knew there was an explanation.

Glue is useless.

What a climate.

True for you. It's fierce.

Maddie...

I want to know...

about that woman O'Hare.

About Miss O'Hare?

There's nothing.

She has no money.

What does she live on?

Why doesn't she live in town instead of here on the peak?

She's nobody.

Why do Mrs. Doyle-Counihan and the others...

put up with her? Huh?

What makes her one of them?

Is it blackmail?

What does she know?

Nothing.

It's the ladies who...

The ladies who know? Who know what?

It was...

Well?

It was agreed long ago.

It was a bargain they made with Miss O'Hare...

that it would never be talked about.

No, nor mentioned. Not ever.

I see.

Well, you're going to talk about it now.

Good morn to you, Miss O'Hare.

Isn't that a grand class of a day?

Grand, thank God.

I haven't clapped eyes on you since the regatta.

Were you not well?

Oh, no, I...

I thought it might be dangerous to go out.

They say everyone's got a summer cold...

the kind you can't get rid of.

Will you walk down with us, or will you take the bike?

Ah. I think I'll go on shanks' mare.

The banns are called between Godfrey Doyle...

and Edwina Broome, both of this parish.

If anyone can show just cause...

why this marriage should not take place...

he or she should do so to His Lordship the bishop...

or to any one of the priests of the parish.

This is the third and last time of calling.

- Mrs. Doyle-Counihan. - Canon.

Well, the church clerk hasn't come haring around...

to say that somebody's ready to swear to it...

that the groom-to-be is in the Freemasons...

so I think we can safely use racing parlance...

and say that the tapes are up.

And as for you, young man...

I've never known anyone born so fortunate.

When I look at this beautiful young woman...

Mrs. Broome!

Miss O'Hare. I wouldn't know a bit of you.

Such a stranger you are these two weeks.

Ought I to offer my congratulations?

I'd be very pleased if you did.

In that case, I do.

Ah, God love you.

And I congratulate myself as well.

I walked to Mass. Did you know that?

I didn't take my bicycle...

because the brakes weren't working.

Really?

Such a steep hill. Wasn't I blessed?

But what I really congratulate myself on...

is that once you're married, you'll be safe...

and no one can touch you... not me, not anyone.

And that means I'll be safe as well.

So that's the height of good fortune...

for the pair of us, wouldn't you say?

Canon.

Safe? W - what's she talking about?

What does she mean by that?

I have no idea.

Ah, the creature.

Old maids are the same the world over.

The poor mind always gives way.

Will you come up, Canon, for a bite of dinner with us?

What is it, Con?

I hope you went to early Mass...

because you're late for this one.

What's happened?

Someone put this through my letterbox.

Whoever wrote it doesn't put his name to it...

but I'd like to know if it's true.

Read it.

It's short, but not what I'd call sweet.

Well?

Ohh...

C - con, th-this sort of thing...

Is it true?

A...

A long time ago...

a girl...

A different person. She...

Con, you can't walk away.

You can't walk away.

Ohh...

Lunch, Mammy.

Dinner, Godfrey.

There's me own sister...

Sister Teresa Gonzaga from the Carmelites.

They let her out on condition she doesn't talk.

And there's me cousin Mossy Cooney...

who's in the government...

and Godfrey's uncle on his father's side...

who was a gunman in the Troubles...

and is the ambassador to the Vatican now...

and the commodore of the yacht club...

that's had the stroke, but is coming in spite of it.

Oh, such a dinner!

It'll be the talk of the county.

Excuse me...

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan, for interrupting your lunch.

Dinner. It's a private occasion, pet.

I know that, so I won't take up your time.

This morning, Con Clancy got a letter.

It said as how I'd had a baby 30 years ago.

Uh, Miss O'Hare...

The baby's father was a soldier...

out of the garrison in Limerick.

It was the oldest story in the world.

I was that innocent.

I believed him when he said...

he was off to fight some foreign war...

and when it was over, he'd send for me.

It was 1904, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

Your own Godfrey wasn't even into long trousers.

I remember the salt tears you cried...

begging me not to keep the baby like I wanted to...

but to give it to strangers.

You promised that no one in the town...

would ever mention it or think bad of me...

that it would be looked after.

What I wanted was to have the child...

and rear it and be a mother to it.

But yourself and the ladies...

them that I still see every day around me...

you said that for me to keep it...

would be an insult to good-living women...

to them that were well in with God.

So in the heel of the hunt...

I went to Dublin and had her adopted.

And youse kept your word, I'll not deny it.

There was the little cottage, all for myself...

not a penny rent to pay...

and I was never looked down on...

because I'd done what was right.

I suppose I reminded youse of how good youse were...

and how Christian.

The baby died. Did you know that?

What? Well, no. How could I have known?

When she was three.

I thought to find out...

what kind of people she'd gone to...

and if they were good to her.

It took me a long while, but I managed it.

I'm a great finder out of things.

She'd been with a doctor and his wife.

Nice people.

Only there'd been scarlet fever where they lived.

I felt sorry for them.

So...

Oh, your lovely lunch is going cold on you.

So this morning, Con Clancy got a letter.

And now he's done with me.

Maybe it comes from having...

too high a regard for a person in the first place.

It's not them you can't forgive for being human.

It's yourself for being so foolish.

Well, my secret is out, and my race is run.

Con Clancy will die in his own bed...

and me in mine.

You were foolish, too, Mrs. Broome.

If you hadn't hated me enough to want to destroy me with this,

then I wouldn't be here now...

and you'd be getting married to himself there.

What am I saying? You might even have finished...

eating the food on the plate in front of you.

Are you saying that I wrote an anonymous letter?

I'm sorry, but this lady is not herself.

Did I mention that it was anonymous?

I don't think so.

But 'tis no matter.

'Tis the day for them, all the same.

For letters, I mean.

We'll be at least agreed on that score, Mrs. Broome.

That name isn't yours, but then, I don't know what is.

This letter is from Mrs. Edwina Broome.

She lives in Scotland.

Her husband was Major Nigel Broome...

who won the Victoria Cross.

The War Office sent me her address.

Isn't it grand to know...

the English are good for something?

She says that you're an impostor...

and if I were you, I'd go back where it was you came from...

before she sets the law on you.

Edwina, tell her.

Tell her what?

You tried time and time again to harm me...

but at Mass this morning, I said, "I'll say nothing.

"Let her marry him and get her hands on his money. "

You?

"And more power to her. "

I don't know why.

Maybe I lack for poison inside me.

Then Con got that letter.

You were wrong about one thing.

I'm finishing my lunch. It's lovely.

You went to so much trouble...

leaving all those papers around...

for Maddie O'Hara to spy through.

No wonder you wanted her as a maid.

She was your best character witness.

The mistake you made was taking the name of a real person.

If you hadn't done that...

all I had was the word of that young Navy officer...

that met you in the brothel in the south of France.

He said you could do more tricks than a conjuror.

Oh!

The holy sister, what she's trying to say...

She says she's going to faint.

That young officer said that thanks to you...

the ship missed its maneuvers, but the crew didn't miss theirs.

Now, what did he mean by that?

He was being kind. I remember him well.

He said he wanted to go around the world...

and so I let him.

I don't think I'll stay for pudding.

Good-bye, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

It was magical.

- No! - Godfrey.

- Godfrey. - She's not to go.

I won't have it. I won't let her.

Child, are you mad? You have the cheek of you.

Now sit down and have your dinner.

- Lunch! - Whatever! Sit!

I don't care what she's done or who she is.

I'm that fond of her.

Are you, Godfrey?

I said sit down!

I won't say good-bye to you, Miss O'Hare.

We still have unfinished business.

That's the last we'll see of her.

Godfrey!

Miss Grubb! Come here to me.

Mammy, what is it?

Miss O'Hare's boat. Look.

Oh, my God! What are we going to do?

Yeah, the police! Miss Grubb, get the police.

Tell them Miss O'Hare...

Oh, the saints protect her this day. Ohh.

Ahoy, there! Is there anybody onboard?

Ahoy! Is anybody there?

Oh, thank heavens.

I've been on the lake all night.

I lost my sense of direction.

Stand by for a line.

Thanks.

Can you please tow me back to Kilshannon?

My car's still there.

Where's Miss O'Hare? Is she below?

She was on the boat with you last evening...

when it left its mooring.

Yes, she, uh... she got off.

- Got off? - Got off?

Excuse me. Would you... If you don't mind.

Am I speaking to the man from Limerick?

A man from Limerick, yes.

Chief Inspector Kilkelly.

Well, my name is Mrs. Doyle-Counihan...

and I saw the woman who's in there...

going on to Miss O'Hare's boat.

And my son saw it, and Miss Grubb saw it.

And if I know the ladies on the hill...

every one of them saw it.

- Yes, I saw it. - I saw it, too.

Well, Sergeant, could you take the ladies...

somewhere comfortable where they can make a statement?

There's not room in there to swing a crippen.

I tell you this.

If Miss O'Hare wasn't on that boat when it was found...

then she was drowned off of it.

"I have business to finish with you yet. "

That's what that woman said.

And now we know the sort of black business it was.

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan, we don't have to get excitable.

- I'm saying... - Madam!

This crowd has their ears cocked for every word we say.

Now, let's not be reckless.

Well, let the police walk tippy-toes all they like...

but I'm going to say what's true...

and I won't put a tooth in it.

My friend, the friend of all of us here...

Katherine O'Hare...

is at the bottom of the lake this minute...

because that woman put her there.

And God forgive me...

Miss O'Hare said she was in danger...

and I wouldn't believe her.

None of us believed her, not even me.

I was a Judas. I turned my back on her.

And now there's been a murder done.

That's true. It's been said at last.

- Murder. - Did she say murder?

That woman murdered Miss O'Hare.

It's true. It's true.

She murdered her.

- Murder? - Murder?

Broken-down pier, you say.

That'll be here. Kilgarven Quay.

Three miles to the nearest village.

Are you saying that Miss O'Hare left her vessel...

and walked to a place where you wouldn't meet...

an ass and cart in an hour's walk?

Yes. Why not?

Why not? Why should she?

Well, it was... I told you, we... we quarreled...

and she said if I didn't get off the boat, she would.

Yet you were the one who remained onboard.

I told you, it was starting to rain.

Why should I walk out into a downpour?

Why should she?

Why should Miss O'Hare walk into a downpour?

Because she was stupid, that's why.

Was stupid, Mrs. Broome?

I... I was talking about yesterday.

But you do admit that when you went aboard the vessel...

it was you who untied the mooring ropes.

I wanted to talk to her.

On a boat, a person can't very well walk away.

Right. Right over there.

That's it.

Bring the boats in, lads!

By God, I think they've found her.

This bag and its contents...

were found in the water off Kilgarven Quay.

It belongs... or belonged to Miss O'Hare.

These are her house keys.

Any idea how it came to be in the water?

She dropped it in the water as she got off the boat.

You didn't mention this previously.

Well... I forgot.

She just dropped her purse in the water...

and made no attempt to retrieve it?

She was in a hurry.

She did say, "Oh, shit. "

Mrs. Broome...

you are to be detained on a holding charge...

of removing property, to wit, a motor cruiser...

without the owner's permission.

You will be removed forthwith to Limerick Garda station...

where a more serious charge may be preferred against you.

The... the door's opening.

Edwina! Edwina!

There's the murderess!

- Murderess! - Edwina!

- Murderess! - Edwina!

Murderess!

I was not in the least surprised...

to find that the woman was a...

No, I won't say it.

But she tried to get her claws on my son.

And when poor Miss O'Hare...

the Lord have mercy on her, got suspicious...

well, that was her death warrant.

A woman, whom we took into our community...

our homes, and our hearts.

And what was in her heart...

a heart as black as it was English...

but murder?

But I say to ye...

in the name of our all-loving Savior...

that murder will out.

Over there.

Right. Take her back, Jim.

Not much luck.

Let's move our sweep this side along the west.

Right there!

...of the murdered woman, Miss O'Hare.

- Dear God! - We will now proceed to sail...

over the point where she was last seen.

I appreciate that since the Troubles...

a good murder is hard to come by.

When one does come along...

people want to make the most of it...

but this is going too far.

And who the hell thinks he knows how to print a handbill?

And this woman, the lowest of the low...

is charged with what?

With taking what belongs to someone else...

and they call that a crime?

Ah, it isn't even a venial sin, not in this town.

And we have here today...

none other than Mr. Comiskey...

the Minister of Agriculture...

representing the Minister of Justice...

and still the police take no action.

They want, if you please, to find a dead body.

Yeah, a body.

Well, all I can say is they're very particular.

Good woman yourself!

Well, the people of Kilshannon demand justice.

Now you're talking!

We... we have had 700 years of English tyranny...

and now let this meeting demand...

the rope be on the other neck for a change.

Thank you, Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

And now let us say a decade of the Rosary...

for the repose of the soul of a woman...

who was a saint when she was with us...

and, alas, is now a saint in earnest.

I take it there are no objections...

from the committee...

given the nonsacred nature of our surroundings.

- None at all, Canon. - Fire away, fire away.

Mrs. Colgan?

One of the sorrowful mysteries.

- Mrs. Purdieu? - By all means.

- Mrs. Lawless? - Yes, yes, of course.

Miss O'Hare.

Miss O'Hare!

Oh, don't mind me.

Water. Get some water.

No. Power's Gold Label.

Such an aggravating young woman I never met.

She came on to my boat and shanghaied me.

Now there's the town she knows something about.

She carried on about me making a show of her...

in front of the Doyle-Counihans...

and all belonging to them.

God almighty, for a strap of an Englishwoman...

she'd talk the hind leg off a donkey.

So by the time we got to Kilgarven Quay...

I... I was so moidered...

- That you went ashore. - I did.

I walked two miles in the pours of rain.

A cart from the creamery at Portumna gave me a lift...

to my cousin Maggie's house at Terryglass...

and it was the best day's outing I ever had.

I'm going to live with her. And why wouldn't I?

She's a widow and by herself, the same as I am.

I only came back to sell the boat...

and pack up me bits and pieces...

and look at the commotion I've walked into.

Ha! They're gone...

and sorra a body will shed a tear.

That Miss O'Hare...

I don't know. I gave that woman...

so much of me heart's blood over the years.

I'm glad to see the back of her.

And as for the other rip...

Did she turn you against women, son?

Only against her, Mammy.

Do you know, she actually asked me to go back to work.

Go along with you.

Pardon me. Will you see Gaffney the lawyer?

I'm sure she will.

And it's Mr. Gaffney, by the way.

Do tell me.

And to what, Mr. Gaffney, do I owe the...

Pleasure, ma'am? No pleasure at all.

Alas, business rather.

The business of Mrs. Gaffney's new fur coat.

The man has drink took.

He has, yes, and will again shortly.

However, I was alluding, ma'am, to the prosperous time ahead.

To get to the nub of the matter, I am instructed by my client...

known to you as Mrs. Edwina Broome...

to take action against yourself...

the Reverend Canon Murtagh...

and the ladies of your committee...

singly and en masse...

on the grounds of slander and criminal libel.

You what?

Now, now. Forgive me.

Did you and the ladies of Widows' Peak...

not call my client a murderess?

Did you not give interviews to the papers?

Did you not personally print handbills...

accusing her of a crime...

that carries with it a sentence of death?

No. Those handbills were Maddie O'Hara.

No. All I did was...

Put her up to it. Yes, I have that.

Dear me, it seems as if all of you conspired...

to put a rope around my client's neck.

Having called the tune, you must pay the piper.

We'll do nothing of the sort.

The brazen nerve of her.

A woman that's a mockery to her s-e-x.

No better than a common...

I wouldn't repeat that if I were you...

seeing as we only have Miss O'Hare's word for it.

It's called hearsay...

and, in any case, the judge will rule as inadmissible...

any attack on my client's character.

The judge?

Oh, my God.

It's a good job you're comfortably off...

Mrs. Doyle-Counihan.

At least, unlike the other ladies...

you will have a penny or two left.

Oh... oh, the rip.

Oh, the rip!

How dare she? Oh!

Now, now, now, woman. None of your ullagoning.

You ought to go down on your benders and give thanks.

Haven't you a treasure that neither the plaintiff...

nor any woman can take from you?

A treasure?

To be sure you have... the love of a good son.

Hasn't she, Master Godfrey?

Aye, a boy's affection for his mother.

All else will fade, but never that.

Godfrey!

Godfrey!

Godfrey!

Bye-bye, Mammy!

I'm free!

I'm free!

Help!

Help!

Help!

# The blue of her eyes

# And the gold of her hair

# Are a blend of the western sky...

Mrs. Clancy.

Yes, Mr. Clancy.

Time for dinner, Mrs. Clancy.

# She's the sweetheart

# of Sigma Chi

Ready for dinner, dear?

Oh...

Ah, lamb, what is it?

I told her. I warned her. Gin will do it every time.

Oh, be quiet.

But what's wrong?

I just remembered when you told everyone...

that the baby died of scarlet fever.

I actually believed it, and I still do.

Oh, no.

That's because I'm Irish, lovey.

We can never resist a nice sad story.

And don't remind me about Kilshannon.

It's on my conscience.

Why on earth should it be?

There are times...

not all the time, sometimes...

when I feel we were a bit hard on them.

Well, they were a bit hard on us...

weren't they, Mother...

thirty years ago?

# Every song of the dale in the dear days gone by

# Was made bright by the light

# Of the smile in your eye

# Like a candle that's set in a window at night

# Your fond love has cheered me

# And guided me right

# Sure, I love the dear silver

# That shines in your hair

# And the brow that's all furrowed

# And wrinkled with care

# I kiss the dear fingers

# So toil-worn for me

# Oh

# God bless you and keep you

# Mother Machree

# Mother Machree