Original subtitles

'...aspens quiver,

'Little breezes dusk and shiver

'Through the wave that runs for ever

'By the island in the river

'Flowing down to Camelot.

'Four grey walls, and four grey towers,

'Overlook a space of flowers,

'And the silent isle embowers

'The Lady of Shalott.

'Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

'Listening, whispers, 'Tis the fairy'

'The Lady of Shalott

'There she weaves by night and day

'A magic web with colours gay.

'She has heard a whisper say,

'A curse is on her if she stay

'To look down on Camelot.

'She knows not what the curse may be,

'And so she weaveth steadily,

'Little other care had she

'The Lady of Shalott.'

Anne!

Anne!

Coming Mrs. Hammond

Anne, Anne Shirley. Get in here this instant.

It's all right, honey.

Come on, get get!

What took you, sloppy girl? You're taking food out of my babies mouths.

Sorry Mrs. Hammond. I've been rushing so. This is quite heavy.

That will be my share so there won't be any less for the children.

Well just take them and clean them up.

Well if you'd pay more attention to your chores

instead of pouring over them poor books of yours.

Please, I won't do it again.

It was just so thrilling I couldn't put it down.

You darn well won't do it again.

And if I catch you reading anymore of them books of yours

while you're supposed to be looking after my young'ns

...they'll feed the fire too Missy.

Well don't stand there looking deaf finish changing Megan and Peter.

Mr. Hammond and the men have been waiting well

nigh an hour for their lunch, while you've been dawdling.

I enjoy babies in moderation Mrs. Hammond,

but twins three times in succession is too much.

What?

I simply couldn't live here if I hadn't any imagination.

I'll take none of your cheek Anne Shirley.

Believe you me, you'll be out on your backside

if I get another word out of you.

Oh get going to the Mill before Mr. Hammond takes a whipping to you.

EAT!

Not those God darned planks!

What's the matter?

Not that junk! You idiot.

Cut it out!

Help! Get down here!

What happened Tom?

He's been in a temper over lunch. Screaming and swearing.

You know how he gets. He wouldn't stop.

Someone take the wagon and go for the doctor.

He won't be needing no doctor.

Katie? I know you'll understand,

but I hadn't all but lost myself in the beauty of the day

the only beauty which is vouchsafed me.

Poor Mr. Hammond might still be with us.

There, there, Mora.

He led a good life.

You have to think about yourself and your young'ns now.

Sell the Mill and come and live with me.

And what about the girl?

She's an home child isn't she?

Yah.

She'll have to go back to the orphanage.

Mrs. Hammond.

You must know how much I want to be of help to you in your time of trial.

I consider it a burden I must bear.

I was daft when I took you in. It's all you're doing.

None but yours.

I blame myself entirely Mrs. Hammond.

To have to wait an extra hour for lunch is a terrible burden on any man

and I shall never overcome my grief,

but going back to an orphanage would be more than I could bear.

I beg of you Mrs. Hammond. Please let me stay with you.

Orphan children are all the same. Trash.

Trash. That's right Anne Shirley.

Poor miserable trash that don't deserve no better.

Mrs. Hammond, Ma'am.

Mrs. Hammond. I sent a reply to your letter just this morning

I'm afraid we cannot take the girl. We're overcrowded as it is.

But I've already had to divide my own sweet babies among my relatives, Ma'am.

She ain't my responsibility no more You have to take her.

Come here, child.

Tell me what you know about yourself.

Well, it really isn't worth telling, Mrs. Cadbury.

But if you let me tell you what I imagine about myself,

you'd find it a lot more interesting.

Uh, she was, uh, twelve last March, Ma'am.

Uh, born in Halifax. Both parents died of the fever

when she was just three months.

I took her in from a neighbor last year to help out with the young'ns

but she's been in and out of orphanages ever since she was a wee thing

and she's not too proud for here.

And what were your parents' names?

Walter and Bertha Shirley. Aren't they lovely names?

I'm proud they had such nice names.

It would be a disgrace to have a father called, well, Hezekiah.

Doesn't matter what a person's name is, as long as they behave themselves.

Well, I don't know.

I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,

but I was never able to believe it.

A rose just couldn't smell as sweet if it was a thistle or a skunk-cabbage.

I don't know where she picks up them fool ideas,

but she's a bright little thing, ain't she?

And she won't be no trouble to you, I can promise you that.

Well, this is a real Christian place you folks is running here

and I sure am grateful to you for helping me out of this predicament.

Now, Mrs. Hammond, wait a minute. Mrs. Hammond!

We can't take her for at least another month!

There are papers to be signed!

Lady, I got a train to catch.

Katie, I'm glad we have each other.

It's so difficult finding a kindred spirit these days.

Anne Shirley, get undressed at once.

Have you no respect for rules and regulations.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Cadbury, but I wasn't paying attention.

You haven't been paying attention for the past six months.

Oh, I know I'll improve.

It's just that my life is perfect graveyard of buried hopes, now.

That's a sentence I read once and I say it over to comfort myself

in these times that try the soul.

I've had a request for two of our girls to live with families in Prince Edward Island.

And I've decided that you will be one of them.

Oh, thank you, Mrs. Cadbury. Thank you with all my heart.

I've no wish to reward rebelliousness,

but for good of discipline it seems that I must.

Perhaps this new family of yours

shatter this dream world you that you live in.

Now, get into your nightgown and go to bed.

Are you waiting for someone, Miss?

I am, thank you.

Would you prefer to sit in the ladies' waiting room?

No, I prefer to sit here.

There's so much more scope for the imagination.

Thank you just the same.

As you like, Miss.

Thomas! Isn't that Matthew Cuthbert driving that buggy?

Appears to be.

He never goes to town this time of year,

and he never wears a suit except in church.

Maybe he's going courting.

Don't be so utterly ridiculous, Thomas.

He's not going fast enough for a doctor.

Oh, my afternoon is spoiled!

I won't have a moments peace until I know what that man is up to.

Wearing his suit.

Marilla is simply going to have to explain all this.

You, who. Marilla.

Ah, Rachel, good morning. And how are all the Lyndes?

Oh, we're all right as rain, Marilla,

but I was kind of worried about you

when I saw your brother drive by just now.

Oh, I'm fine. Just fine.

Appreciate the concern.

But he was in his suit and smoking his pipe.

Well, I don't mind so long as he smokes his pipe

in the great outdoors and not in my kitchen.

He was in his suit.

Yes, Rachel.

Well, Matthew never goes to town this time of year.

Matthew wasn't going to town.

Oh, don't keep me in such suspense.

He was going to Bright River.

We're getting a little boy from an orphanage in Nova Scotia,

and he's coming in on the afternoon train.

A boy!

You can't be serious.

Well, you don't know anything about raising children.

Whatever put such an idea into your head?

Well,

Matthew's getting along in years.

He's not as spry as he once was and his heart bothers him greatly.

Mrs. Spencer was up here before Christmas and said

she was getting a little girl from the Hopeton Asylum in the spring.

Matthew and I gave it good consideration.

So, we sent word to her by her niece, Roberta,

tell her to bring us a boy home while she was at it.

I shall be surprised atnothing after this.

Nothing.

We told her to fix us up with a little boy, eleven or twelve;

old enough to do the chores, and young enough to be brought up properly.

You know I pride myself on speaking my mind.

And let me tell you, I think you are doing a mighty risky thing.

I wish you'd consulted me first.

Well, it was just last week, I read in the paper

where a couple took a boy from an orphan asylum

and he set fire to their house at night,

on purpose. Burnt them to a crisp in their beds.

Well, I won't say that I haven't had my qualms, Rachel.

But Matthew was so terrible determined and it's

so seldom that he sets his mind on anything

that I felt I had to give in.

And there was another case, six months ago over in New Brunswick,

where an asylum child put strychnine in the well

and the entire family died, in agony.

Only, it was a girl in that instance.

Well, we are not getting a girl.

Woap.

Oh, how do, Matthew?

Hello, Angus. Is the afternoon train due soon?

Well, been and gone a half an hour ago.

There was a passenger dropped off for you.

She's waiting for you on the platform.

She?

Not to worry, Matthew. I don't think she bites.

Well, it's a boy I've come for.

Oh, she won't have any trouble explaining.

She has a tongue of her own.

I suppose you're Mr. Matthew Cuthbert.

My name is Anne Shirley.

Anne is spelled with an "e'

I was beginning to be afraid you weren't coming for me today,

so I made up my mind to climb up that big,

wild cherry tree and wait for you till morning.

It would be lovely to sleep in a cherry tree all silvery in the moonshine,

don't you think?

Oh, yes it would. I mean, no.

I mean, there's been a big mistake.

Oh, no, there's no mistake not if you're Mr. Matthew Cuthbert.

You are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert, aren't you?

Mrs. Spencer told me to wait right here for you,

and so I've done, most pleasantly I must say.

Oh, this is beautiful country you have here, Mr. Cuthbert.

I'm sorry I was late.

No, no, that's fine, thank you. It's very light and thin, like me.

I better hold on to my bag.

If it isn't carried in a certain way, the handle falls off.

I mastered the trick of it on my journey. It's a very old carpet bag.

Not at all the sort of luggage I imagine the Lady of Shallott would travel with,

but of course hers would be suited to a horse-drawn pavilion and not a train.

Oh, I'm very glad you've come,

even if it would have been nice to sleep in a wild cherry tree.

We've got a long piece to drive yet, haven't we?

Oh, I'm glad, because I love driving.

It seems so wonderful that I'm gonna live with you and belong to you.

I've never really belonged to anyone before,

and the asylum was the worst place I've lived in yet.

Mrs. Spencer said it was wicked of me to talk like that,

but I don't mean to be wicked.

It's just so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it?

Am I talking too much?

Oh, people are always telling me I do,

and I can stop if I make up my mind to do it.

You can talk all you like. I don't mind.

Oh, I know you and I are going to get along just fine, Mr. Cuthbert.

I love this place already.

I always heard that Prince Edward Island was the most beautiful place in Canada,

and I used to imagine I was living here.

This is the first dream that has ever come true for me.

It's always been one of my dreams to live by the sea.

These red roads are so peculiar.

We got into the train at Charlottetown and the red roads began to flash past,

I asked Mrs. Spencer what made them red,

and she said she didn't know and pity's sake not to ask her anymore questions.

Dreams don't often come true, do they Mr. Cuthbert?

Just now, I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy.

I can't feel exactly perfectly happy because,

what color would you call this?

Red?

Red.

That's why I can't ever be perfectly happy.

I know I'm skinny and a little freckled and my eyes are green

I can imagine I have a beautiful rose-leaf complexion

and lovely, starry violet eyes,

but I cannot imagine my red hair away.

It'll be my life-long sorrow.

I read of a girl in a novel once who was divinely beautiful.

Have you ever imagined what it must be like to be divinely beautiful?

Oh, I have often.

Which would you rather be? Divinely beautiful, or dazzlingly clever,

or angelically good?

Well, I don't know.

Neither do I

I know I'll never be angelically good Mrs. Spencer says I talk so much that...

Mr. Cuthbert. Mr. Cuthbert, what is this place called?

The Avenue. Pretty, ain't it?

Pretty doesn't seem the right word to use.

Nor beautiful either; it don't go far enough.

It is wonderful. Wonderful.

They shouldn't call this lovely place, "The Avenue"!

There's no meaning in a name like that.

They should call it, "White Way of Delight".

It's far more glorious than I could ever have imagined.

That's Barry's pond.

Oh, no. This is the Lake of Shining Waters.

That's its rightful name.

Do things like this ever give you a thrill, Mr. Cuthbert?

Well, picking up them ugly white grubs in the cucumber bed.

Yes, I can see how that could be very thrilling.

Woap.

Green Gables, yonder.

I've pinched myself so many times today to make sure that this was real.

But it is real and we're nearly home.

Gid'yup!

I'm overwhelmed.

Matthew Cuthbert, who is that?

It's a girl.

I can see that. Where's the boy?

There weren't any. Just her.

I figured we just couldn't leave her no matter what the mistake was.

You figured? Oh, this is a fine kettle of fish.

This is what comes of sending word, instead of going ourselves, Matthew.

You don't want me?

You don't want me because I'm not a boy?

Nobody ever did want me.

I might have known this was all too beautiful to be true.

Come, come, now. Don't cry. It is not your fault.

This is just the most tragical thing that has ever happened to me.

Well, what's your name?

Would you please call me Cordelia?

Call you Cordelia?

Don't you think it's a pretty name?

Is that your name?

Oh, no, it's not exactly my name, though I would love to be called Cordelia.

I don't understand what you mean.

Cordelia is a perfectly elegant name.

What is your name child, and no more nonsense?

Anne Shirley. Plain, old, unromantic Anne Shirley.

Anne Shirley is a fine and sensible name, and hardly one to be ashamed of.

Oh, I'm not ashamed,

but if you are going to call me Anne,

would you please be sure to spell it with an "e".

What difference does it make how it is spelled?

It makes a lot of difference.

Print out "A-n-n" and it looks absolutely dreadful,

but Anne with an "e" is quite distinguished.

So if you'll only call me Anne with an "e",

I'll try and reconcile myself to not being called Cordelia.

Very well then, Anne, with an "e",

how is it that you happened to be brought and not a boy?

If I were very beautiful and had nut-brown hair, would you keep me?

No. We have absolutely no use for a girl.

Well, don't stand there gaping.

Come along, bring your bag. Now that you're here,

I suppose we'll have to put you somewhere tonight.

Take off your hat. You must be hungry.

I can't eat. I can never eat when I'm in the depths of despair.

The depths of despair?

Can you eat when you're that way?

I've never been that way.

Can't you even imagine you're in the depths of despair?

No, I can not. To despair is to turn your back on God.

This is your room for the night. Wash up and then come down for supper.

Yes, Miss Cuthbert.

I'm taking her straight over to that Spencer woman in the morning.

This girl has to go straight back to the asylum.

I suppose.

You suppose, don't you know it?

She's a nice little thing, Marilla.

Seems a pity to send her back, she's so set on staying.

Matthew Cuthbert, I believe this child has bewitched you.

I can see plain is plain you want to keep her.

We could hire a boy, and she can be company for you.

I'm not suffering for company,

particularly a girl who prattles on without stopping for breath.

She's no good for us.

She has to go straight back where she came from.

Well, we might be of some good to her.

Good night, Anne with an "e".

It's difficult to say goodnight. It's the worst night I've ever known.

Good night, just the same, child.

Goodnight. Miss Cuthbert.

Little Jerry Buote from the Creek was around.

I told him I guess I'd hire him on for the summer.

Hurry up, child!

Just fixing Green Gables in my memory.

In years to come I'm going to look back on Green Gables

as a beautiful dream that will always haunt me.

Don't you think it's romantic-

You can think about it as you drive along.

I shall never forget your kindness, Mr. Cuthbert.

Marilla.

Marilla, dear. You're the last person I ever expected to see today.

I'd imagine you would be getting Anne settled.

How are you Anne?

As well as a victim of tragic circumstances can be, Mrs. Spencer.

There seems to be some queer mistake, Sarah.

We told Roberta for you to get us a boy.

Oh, Marilla, you don't say.

Oh, Roberta distinctly said that you wanted a girl.

I knew I should have gone myself.

I am dreadfully sorry, Marilla.

I suppose the asylum will take the child back.

Well, as a matter of fact,

Mrs. Blewett was up here yesterday asking me

if I could get her a little girl. She has such a large family, you know.

Ten children and another one on the way,

she's simply beside herself for help.

Excuse me, Mrs. Spencer, would there happen to be any twins among them?

She has two sets of twins. How did you know, child?

Twins seem to be my lot in life.

Mrs. Spencer!

And you'll be just the girl.

And, oh, look, there's Mrs. Blewett this blessed minute.

I call this positively providential.

You, who, Mrs. Blewett.

Mrs. Blewett, Anne Shirley. She'll be just the thing for you.

Miss Cuthbert.

Mrs. Blewett.

How old are you, girl.

Thirteen.

Ain't much to you, but you're wiry,

and I don't know but the wiry ones can work the hardest.

I'll expect you to earn your keep, no mistaking that.

And I want you to act smart and be respectful.

All right, I'll take her.

My twins have been awful fractious these days and I'm terrible worn out.

Well, now, I don't know.

I feel I oughtn't make a decision until I speak to Matthew.

I'll just take her home again and talk to him.

Good afternoon, ladies.

Miss Cuthbert, did you really say it or did I only just image it?

I haven't said anything yet, young lady,

except I want to speak to Matthew.

Sending you back to the orphanage is one thing.

Handing you over to the likes of Matilda Blewett is another.

I'd rather go back to the asylum than live with her.

Two sets of twins! Oof. Besides, she looks exactly like a gimlet.

You should be ashamed of yourself,

speaking of a stranger that way.

Hold your tongue and don't criticize your elders.

I'll try and do anything and be anything you want,

if you'll only keep me, Miss Cuthbert.

Well, aren't you going to say anything, Matthew?

I wouldn't give a dog I liked to that Blewett woman.

It makes no sense to keep her.

But if we did keep her,

I'd expect you not to interfere with my methods.

An old maid like me may not know much about raising a child,

but I know a darn sight more than a bachelor like you.

Oh, she could talk a hind leg of a mule,

that's certain.

Wouldn't that be a change around here?

Have you said your prayers?

I never say any prayers.

What do you mean? Haven't you been taught to say your prayers?

Mrs. Hammond told me that God made my hair red on purpose,

and I've never cared for him since.

Well, while you are under my roof, you will say your prayers.

Why, of course, if you want me to. How does one do it?

Well, you kneel beside the bed.

That's the part I never really could understand.

Why must people kneel down to pray?

If I really wanted to pray,

I'd go out into a great, big field,

all alone, and I'd look up into the sky.

I'd imagine it was the dome of a great cathedral,

and then I'd close my eyes and just feel the prayer.

What am I to say?

Well, I think your old enough now to think of your own prayer.

You thank God for his blessings and then

humbly ask him for the things you want.

I'll do my best.

Dear Gracious, Heavenly Father,

I thank you for everything.

As for the things I especially want,

they're so numerous it would take a great deal of time to mention them all,

so I'll just mention the two most important.

Please, let me stay at Green Gables.

Please, make me beautiful when I grow up.

I remain yours respectfully, Anne Shirley, with an "e".

Did I do all right?

Yes, if you were addressing a business letter to a catalog store.

Get into bed.

I should have said Amen instead of yours respectfully.

Do you think it will make any difference?

I expect God will overlook it, this time.

Good night.

Good night, Miss Cuthbert.

That girl is next door to a perfect heathen.

Good morning, Miss Cuthbert.

Where's Matthew?

He had his breakfast hours ago.

Been in the fields ever since.

Why?

I see I'll have to be up before the break of day

if I'm to say good morning to Matthew.

That is if...

If what?

Please, Miss Cuthbert, tell me if you're going to send me back.

I made up my mind to be patient, but just can't bear it any longer.

Well, you'll just have to bear it because I simply don't know.

I though maybe we'd put it on trial for a while,

for all our sakes. Would that suit you?

If you think it's necessary, Miss Cuthbert.

I do.

You may not be happy with two old grumps like us.

I know I would be.

I'd be happier than even I can imagine at this present moment.

Come. While you're eating your breakfast,

I want you to learn that.

You need a little religion in your life as bad as you need fattening up.

Our Father, who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

That is just like a line of music.

I'm glad you thought of making me learn this, Miss Cuthbert.

Well learn it, then, and hold your tongue.

Yes, ma'am.

Oh, good Lord, here comes Rachel Lynde.

Anne, take that card into the parlor,

and then you come back here on your best behavior.

I don't want her knowing you're a heathen.

Good morning, Marilla.

Come in, Rachel.

I'm shocked at this horrendous mistake I've heard about.

I've gotten over the shock, myself.

Couldn't you have sent her back?

Well, we're still considering on it.

Considering on it? What is there to consider?

A boy would have been bad enough but-

This is a friend and neighbor of mine, Mrs. Rachel Lynde.

Anne Shirley.

How do you do, Mrs. Lynde?

Well, her looks are certainly nothing to consider.

I mean she's terribly skinny and homely, Marilla.

Come over here, child.

Lawful heart! Her hair is as red as carrots!

How dare you say I'm skinny and...

carrots!

You're a rude, impolite, unfeeling woman,

and I hate you!

Anne Shirley!

How would you like to have nasty things said about you?

How would you like to be told that you're fat,

and ugly, and a sour old gossip.

Anne Shirley!

Anne Shirley, you come back at once and apologize!

Mark my words, Marilla.

That's the kind that puts strychnine in the well.

You shouldn't have twitted her about her looks.

Marilla Cuthbert!

I'm not making excuses for her. Perhaps she was never taught what was right,

but you were too hard on her, Rachel.

I see I'll have to be very careful what I say from now on.

Oh, I'm not vexed, Marilla.

I'm too sorry for you to leave any room for anger in my mind.

It's obvious to me that the good sense I admire in you

left you when that child walked in your door!

Goodbye, Marilla.

Come down and see me when you can,

but don't expect me to visit here again if I'm to be treated in such a fashion.

Goodbye, Rachel.

When I said trial, I had no idea you'd take me literally.

Of all the people, you would pick on Rachel Lynde.

She hadn't any right to say what she did.

Rachel is too outspoken.

But she is your elder, a stranger, and my guest,

not to mention my friend,

all of them very good reasons for you to have bit your tongue.

She deserves and apology. You will go to her and you will give it.

I can never do that.

You can punish me any way you like.

You can lock me up in a dark dungeon inhabited by snakes and toads,

and feed me on bread and water.

I won't complain.

But I cannot ask Rachel Lynde to forgive me.

If you expect to remain under my roof, you will apologize to Mrs. Lynde.

Then you'll have to send me back.

Rachel Lynde deserves what she gets.

Matthew Cuthbert, don't form opinions for me.

Next you'll be saying she oughtn't be punished at all.

I'm been upstairs in this house for four years.

I guess you're leaving, then.

Oh, Matthew,

I'd rather die than apologize to Mrs. Lynde.

It's so humiliating.

Marilla is a terrible determined woman.

You don't have to be exactly sorry, you know

you can just be sort of sorry.

I'm not sorry at all.

I hear Mrs. Blewett's an awful work-horse.

It'll terrible lonesome around here without you.

Couldn't you just kind of smooth it over?

You don't want me to go, do you?

I'd do anything for you, Matthew, if you really wanted me to.

Of course I do.

I can't let Mrs. Lynde be the cause of our parting.

I don't have to be really sorry.

I just have to remove the disgrace I brought upon Marilla's good name.

Don't tell Marilla that I said anything. She'll say I'm interfering.

Wild horses couldn't drag it from me.

Miss Cuthbert?

What is it?

I'm sorry I lost my temper and said those rude things,

and I'm willing to go and tell Mrs. Lynde so.

I think that's a wise decision. I'll take you over first thing.

Now get up to bed, and don't forget to say your prayers.

Yes, ma'am.

I knew that if we left her alone, she'd come to her senses.

Hurry up, Anne. What are you muttering about?

I'm just imagining out what I must say to Mrs. Lynde.

Miss Cuthbert, you look so elegant!

You don't make an important visit in kitchen clothes.

I think amethysts are lovely.

That's what I used to imagine diamonds were like,

and then I saw a real diamond in a ladies-

Oh, for goodness sake, child! Bite your tongue, and come along.

Good morning Rachel.

Anne has something to say to you.

Mrs. Lynde,

I'm extremely sorry I behaved so terribly.

I've disgraced my good friends who've let me stay at Green Gables on trial,

even though I'm not a boy.

I am wicked and ungrateful, and I deserve to be cast out forever.

What you said was true,

I am skinny and ugly, and my hair is red.

What I said about you was true too, only I shouldn't have said it.

Please, Mrs. Lynde, forgive me.

You wouldn't be so cruel as to inflict a life-long sorrow on a poor orphan.

Please. Please, forgive me.

There, there, child, of course I forgive you.

I guess I was a bit hard.

But you mustn't mind me; I'm known throughout these parts

as a woman who speaks her mind.

And don't worry about your hair.

I knew a girl once who had hair every bit as red as yours,

but when she grew up, it darkened into a real handsome auburn.

You have given me hope, Mrs. Lynde.

I shall always think of you as a benefactress.

Marilla,

what this child needs is discipline and a proper education.

The Sunday School picnic is scheduled this week for Barry's field.

I want you to take Anne so she can meet some civilized children her own age.

Her tongue appears to be hinged in the middle,

but she may turn out all right.

I'm sure you're right, Rachel.

And trial or no trial, you ought to put the girl into school.

Putting you in school doesn't mean a decision.

It's just as easy to take you out as put you in.

I understand, Miss Cuthbert,

but it does give a person reason to hope

I've seen some shocking behavior from you, Anne Shirley,

and it does give a person reason to doubt. Understand?

My temper will never get the better of me again,

even though I am red-haired.

I hope not.

Good behavior in the first place

is more important than theatrical apologies afterwards.

Since, I had to do it, I thought I might as well do it thoroughly.

Save your thoroughness for prayer.

And the praying that counts is the praying that's sincere.

God does not want you for a fair-weathered friend.

The only real friend I ever had was Katie Morris,

and she was only my window friend.

Window friend?

I discovered her in the window of Mrs. Thomas' bookcase,

which was the only window which hadn't been smashed by her intoxicated husband.

I lived with them before the Hammonds.

I used to wish I knew the spell to step through the glass into Katie's world,

which was so beautiful.

I don't think you should have window friends anymore.

My greatest wish, apart from staying at Green Gables,

would be to have a bosom friend.

A what kind of friend?

Bosom friend a really kindred spirit.

I've dreamt of meeting her all my life.

Diana Barry lives over there on Orchard Slope.

She's about your age.

Her parents are sponsoring the picnic next Sunday.

You can meet her.

Diana of the Lake of Shining Waters.

For mercy's sake child.

You set your heart too much on silly names.

What should I call you? May I call you Aunt Marilla?

No. You can call me just plain Marilla.

I don't believe in calling people names that are not their own.

You could imagine you were my aunt.

No, I could not.

Don't you ever imagine things different from they are?

No.

Oh, Marilla, how much you miss.

How do you like them?

I can imagine I like them.

What's the matter with them?

They're not very pretty.

I'm not going to pamper your vanity.

These are good and sensible dresses.

This one is for Sunday, and the others you can wear to school.

I am grateful,

but I'd be even more grateful if you'd made this one with puffed sleeves.

I cannot waste material on ridiculous looking frills and furbelows.

Plain and sensible is best.

I've always dreamed of going to a picnic in puffed sleeves.

I'd rather look ridiculous with everyone else than plain and sensible all by myself.

Trust you for that.

Have you seen my amethyst brooch?

Yes.

Did you touch it?

I pinned it on yesterday, just to see what it looked like.

You had no business to meddle with my brooch.

Where did you put it?

Back on the pin cushion.

Honestly, Marilla, I didn't mean to meddle, and I promise I'll never do it again.

That's the one good thing about me; I never do the same wrong thing twice.

The brooch is gone and you were the last one to handle it.

Did you take it out and lose it?

I didn't.

Anne Shirley, you are telling me a falsehood.

Go to your room.

And you will stay in your room until you confess,

even if it takes a month of Sundays.

If you let me out for the picnic.

I'll stay in my room as long as you like, I just have to go to the picnic.

You are not going to the picnic or anywhere else until you tell me the truth.

If I don't go to the picnic, how will I ever make a bosom friend,

or any friend at all?

That brooch meant a great deal to me,

more than any picnic.

Now go to your room.

I've looked in every crack and cranny.

You might as well face it, Matthew.

She's taken that brooch and lied about it.

I feel worse about that than about the brooch.

Are you sure it didn't fall behind the bureau?

I moved the bureau. I even checked the cracks in the floor.

I know how you feel, Matthew,

and in my heart I was prepared to let you have your way, but

now I realize that I was right not to be too hasty.

We can't keep her,

liar and a thief, Matthew, and you know it.

Marilla, I'm ready to confess.

What have you to say for yourself?

I took the brooch because I was too overcome with irresistible temptation.

I was imagining I was Lady Cordelia Fitzgerald,

and I just had to wear the brooch over the footbridge of the Lake of Shining Waters,

with the wind blowing my auburn hair over to Camelot.

I thought I could put it back before you came home,

but as I leaned over to look at my reflection in the lake,

it slipped from my fingers and sank beneath the rippling waves.

The best I can do at confessing. Now may I go to the picnic?

No.

I realize the importance of the brooch, Marilla.

Was it a keepsake from a tragic romance?

You did say I could go if I confessed.

What you can do is pack your bags

and start imagining your life with Mrs. Blewett.

Rachel Lynde was right.

I can't imagine how I let that child worm her way into my affections.

I'm furious at myself for having let this happen.

Marilla!

What ever made you say that you took it and lost it?

You said you'd keep me in my room until I confessed.

I just thought up a good confession and made it as interesting as I could.

But it was still a lie.

You wouldn't believe the truth.

You do beat all, child.

But, I'll forgive you if you'll forgive me.

Now, you get dressed for service.

Hello, Miss Cuthbert.

Good afternoon, Mr. Barry

I'd like you to meet Anne Shirley. - Hello.

How do you do, Mr. Barry?

You should meet my daughter, Diana. She's over there in the garden.

For pity's sake, calm down, Anne.

And don't make any of your vibrant speeches.

Goodness knows what Rachel has told them already about you.

Oh, you'd be excited too, if you were going to eat ice-cream

for the first time in your life.

Ah, Marilla. Anne.

Rachel. Rev. Allan. Mrs. Allan.

This is the orphan girl that the Cuthberts are looking after.

Anne Shirley, this is the Reverend and Mrs. Allan.

How are you, Anne?

Well in body, although considerably ruffled in spirit, thank you.

There wasn't anything shocking in that, was there, Marilla?

We must try our best to relieve your jitters.

Won't you and Anne join us for tea, Miss Cuthbert?

I've been counting on you coming to Green Gables,

now that you've moved into the manse

I've given Elizabeth tremendous reports about your home baking,

and your red current wine, Miss Cuthbert.

She is anxious to learn your secrets.

Marilla, I'm so pleased you could come.

This must be the Anne we've heard so much about.

This is my Diana.

Perhaps Anne would like some ice-cream and lemonade, Diana.

I think she's enchanting.

Will you keep her, then, Marilla?

Well, if she can avoid catastrophe two days in a row,

I might have a chance to make up my mind.

Marilla has given me strict instructions not to talk a head off.

I do have a habit of chattering on so.

Why, if I could imagine myself as a bird,

a magpie would probably be the closest thing I could resemble.

Oh, Diana,

I've always dreamed of being in a three-legged race at a picnic.

Would you do me the honor of being my partner?

But there aren't any other girls in it.

You're a sturdy looking girl, and I'm fast. I know we'd stand a good chance.

- I guess so. - Come on!

Hey, Diana, who's your friend?

Anne Shirley.

On your marks. Get set.

I never expected a daughter of mine to outrun the boys.

I'm very proud of you, Diana.

I think we're heroic winners, Diana. Don't you?

I think it's a shame that Gilbert had to lose on a count of Moody.

Don't you think Gilbert's handsome?

He is handsome.

But I think your Gilbert is awfully bold to wink at a strange girl.

I wish he'd wink at me.

He's sixteen, but he's in our class.

His father's been ill and he's been away for two years.

Good. I mean, I don't want to be the only one who's behind in school.

That's Mr. Phillips, our school teacher.

He's dead-gone on Prissy Andrews,

and Prissy thinks she's queen bee

just because she's studying her entrance to Queens.

He moons over her something terrible.

That's Josie Pie, and she moons over Gilbert.

Oh, Josie just want attention. I hope she nearly drowns.

I wish it had me.

It would be such a romantic experience nearly to drown.

I heard before that you're kind of a strange girl, Anne Shirley,

but I have a feeling we're going to get along really well.

What is your name?

Anne Shirley. Anne's spelled with an "e".

We pride ourselves on our scholastic record.

And we hope you will strive to meet our standards.

Oh, I'm sure I will, Mr. Phillips.

I've taught children younger than myself to read before,

and both my parents were teachers.

I'm positive we'll have a lot in common.

You will share a seat with Diana Barry.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Phillips. Diana Barry is my bosom friend.

Please take your seat and read your lesson.

I must work with my Queens student now.

All right class. Take out your notebooks.

Memorize the dictation from yesterday.

Hey, Carrots.

Carrots!

How dare you!

Anne Shirley! What is the meaning of this?

It was my fault, Sir. I was teasing her.

Stand at the blackboard for the rest of the day.

I will not tolerate this kind of indignant temperament in my class.

Ann Shirley

has a very

bad temper.

And she will learn to control it.

You will write this one hundred times before leaving today.

Anne, wait!

I'm sorry for teasing you about your hair.

Don't be mad at me for keeps.

Oh, Anne, how could you?

Gilbert always makes fun of the girls.

He calls me crow-head all the time, but I've never heard him apologize before.

There's a world of difference between being called crow-head

and being called carrots.

I shall never forgive Gilbert Blythe.

The iron has entered my soul, Diana.

My mind is made up; my red hair is a curse.

Anne Shirley, I've heard all about it.

Now you open your door at once!

Please go away, Marilla. I'm in the depths of despair.

Oh, fiddlesticks. Now, you open this door at once!

Are you sick?

Go away. Don't look at me.

Oh, don't play innocent with me.

I'm so ashamed I don't know where to begin.

What do you mean by breaking your slate over some boy's head?

He called me Carrots.

I don't care what he called you.

You have no reason to lose your temper.

Anne Shirley,

what have you done to your hair?

Marilla, I thought nothing could be as bad as red hair.

Green is ten times worse.

You don't know how utterly wretched I am.

I little know how you got into this fix,

but I demand that you tell me.

I dyed it.

Dyed it?

For mercy's sake, child.

But he positively assured me it'd turn my hair a beautiful raven black.

Who did? Who are you talking about?

The peddler we met on the road today

I absolutely forbid you to-

What's the use?

Well, I hope that this has opened your eyes

to see where your vanity has taken you.

What shall I do?

I'll never be able to live this down.

I can't face him again.

Gilbert Blythe had no right to call me carrots.

You really smashed your slate over that boy's head?

Yes.

Hard?

Very hard, I'm afraid.

I know I should be angry. I should be furious.

What a way to behave your first day at school!

But, it you promise me nothing of the sort will happen again,

I won't say another word about it.

You're not going to send me back?

I've come to a decision. Trial is over. You will stay at Green Gables.

Marilla!

I think you may be a kindred spirit after all.

I shall never, ever look at myself again.

Well, you're our girl now, and the prettiest one this side of Halifax.

All right, now. Stop this nonsense.

Some girls in books lose their hair in fevers

or sell it for money for some good deed.

I'm sure I wouldn't have minded losing my hair like that.

There's nothing comforting in having your hair cut off because you dyed it.

This is the very last of the Queen Anne's Lace for the summer.

Don't worry about your hair. No one even notices it anymore.

Every time I look at myself I do penance by saying how ugly I am.

I don't even try to imagine it away.

Diana,

aren't you supposed to be studying?

I know, but I had to talk to you right away. That's why I used the white flags.

Well?

Just let me catch my breath.

Mother thought I was upstairs studying,

but I was in the pantry getting some cookies,

and I overheard her talking with Mrs. Blair.

They were talking about what happened with you and Gilbert Blythe,

and mother said you have a disposition just like Marilla's.

She said something about Marilla having been betrothed once,

many years ago, but because of a quarrel

she never married,

and she's had to live with her brother ever since.

So that's it!

What?

Poor Marilla's been thwarted in love.

It must have been a supremely tragic romance.

Did they say anything else?

No,

but I'll keep my ears open.

I have to go, now. Mother doesn't know I'm gone.

Good luck on the exam tomorrow.

You, too. I hope you stand first.

I am indebted to you for life.

All right, class. Times up.

Place your pencils beside your papers.

I'll collect your papers once everyone has left.

However, before everyone leaves for lunch,

I would like to announce the mathematics half-term results.

The three best standings are as follows:

first, Gilbert Blythe

second, Anne Shirley

third, Prissy Andrews.

I think Miss Andrews has shown excellent progress under my tutelage.

Class dismissed.

He's only smiling to congratulate you, Anne.

I think he was trying to rub it in.

Let's take the shortcut through the pasture, Anne. We'll be late.

Don't be afraid of the bullies, Diana.

We'll be completely civilized and take the road

I have no intention of arriving out of breath for our examination.

Charlie Sloan, you measly little boy, you ought to be horse-whipped!

This will be the last time I catch you little trouble makers in my pasture.

These fields are not a free-for-all!

You frighten my cattle to death and they won't be milked.

I've never even set a toenail in your pasture before, Mr. Sadler.

I was really attempting to avenge my bosom friend, Diana,

from being tortured.

Your cattle are such mournful-looking creatures,

you can't know how utterly wretched I feel to have you think I'd frighten them.

You'll feel wretched all right, missy,

if I ever catch any of you on my land again!

Now, hop to it before I tan your backside!

I intend to put a stop to this,

once and for all.

I don't know what education on this Island is coming to, Phillips.

You are the worst teacher this school has ever had.

The order you keep is scandalous!

You're worth half of what they pay you.

And I know for a fact that you would never have gotten this post

if your uncle wasn't on the board of trustees.

I suggest, if you value your job at all,

you'll discipline your students a little better,

and keep them out of trouble

and out of my fields.

- But, Sir. - Good day, to you.

Since you seem to be so fond of the boys' company,

we shall indulge your taste for it this afternoon.

Take a seat over there, next to Gilbert Blythe.

Did you hear what I said?

Yes, Sir. I didn't suppose you really meant it.

I assure you I did. Obey me at once.

All right, let's begin the spelling bee.

Miss Andrews, can you give us the spelling of the word chrysanthemum?

C-h-i,

no, r-i

- s

- a-n-s-m

- u-m.

Perhaps we'll turn our attention to your spelling

now that you mathematics is well in hand.

Gilbert, chrysanthemum.

Chrysanthemum.

C- h-r-y

- s-a-n-t-h-a

- m-u-m

Anne?

Chrysanthemum.

C h-r-y-s-a-n-t-h

- e

- m-u-m.

Correct.

Hey, Anne! How do you spell freckles?

Hey, Josie! How do you spell ugly?

Congratulations on the spelling test, Anne.

Oh, well at least you're acknowledging me now.

That's an improvement.

It is impolite to pass a person without at least nodding,

and so I nod out of elementary good breeding, nothing more.

Oh, why don't you get off your high horse?

Thank you for your heartfelt congratulations, Mr. Blythe.

But allow me to inform you that next time I shall be first in every subject.

Anne! You've got more nerve than a fox in a hen house.

I don't see any need in being civil to someone who

chooses to associate with the likes of Josie Pye.

You're just jealous.

I am not. You take that back, Diana Barry!

She's jealous of you.

Gilbert told Charlie Sloan that you're the smartest girl in school,

right in front of Josie.

He did?

He told Charlie that being smart was better than being good-looking.

I might have known he meant to insult me.

No, he didn't.

It isn't better. I'd much rather be pretty than smart.

But at least I don't have to cheat like Josie does.

She doesn't have to cheat; she just does it because she's a Pye.

First, I'm pleased to announce.

That Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe

have tied for first place honors in the term finals.

And now, the sad news

I'm leaving Avonlea.

I shall not be with you in the fall

to guide your progress to even greater heights of scholastic achievement.

Let us not have tears partings are a natural part of life.

To ease the pain of this news, I have glad tidings.

We shall adjourn early this afternoon, make our way to the Spurgeon farm,

where Moody's parents have consented to host a celebration

in honor of my departure.

Nobody told me.

Bye.

Father told mother that Mr. Sadler was going to get rid of Mr. Phillips,

no matter what.

And apparently the trustees are forcing him to leave because of Prissy.

I can't help feeling sorry for him,

even though he did spell my name without an "e".

I wouldn't feel too sorry for him.

He's got a position as a private tutor over in Charlottetown.

I suppose some people consider it an accomplishment

to walk a little picket fence, Diana.

I knew of a girl in Marysville who could walk the ridgepole of a roof.

I don't believe it. You sure couldn't, little miss bookworm.

Oh, couldn't I?

It's a little risky, don't you think, Anne?

Is it indeed, Mr. Blythe?

I dare you!

I dare you to walk the ridgepole of Moody's kitchen roof.

Don't do it, Anne! Never mind her; it's not a fair dare.

I shall walk that ridgepole or perish.

Oh, Anne!

Oh, Anne! Oh, are you killed?

Just say one word and tell me know if you're killed!

No, but I think I've been rendered unconscious.

Thank you, Mr. Blythe.

Anne, I'll call a carriage and help you home.

That won't be necessary.

I'm quite capable of getting there on my own.

I'm going your way.

At least let me give you a hand.

Thank you, Mr. Blythe, but I am going in the opposite direction.

Come along, Diana.

Anne, you should have let him help you. You're in no condition to walk home.

Of course you would take the long route when you've sprained your ankle.

I wouldn't think of giving Gilbert Blythe the satisfaction of helping me!

Why don't we cut through here? It's much shorter.

But you told me this forest was haunted.

I don't think it's haunted in daylight.

That doesn't matter it's always dark in the forest.

Don't be afraid, Diana.

What kind of ghosts would you say live in here?

I'm not sure there are any.

I only imagined it was haunted because it seemed so romantic at the time.

What is it? Did you see a ghost?

My foot caught on something.

Charlie Sloan said that his grandmother saw his grandfather

driving the cows home last year.

So?

His grandfather died two years ago.

There's supposed to be a white lady who walked along the riverbank

by Mr. Hammond's sawmill, wringing her hands and wailing.

The men never actually saw her.

Oh, Anne, don't.

Perhaps she is now accompanied by Mr. Hammond who is looking for his lunch.

No, I shouldn't have said that. He may follow me here.

Oh, I'm scared.

So am I.

Deliciously scared.

Mrs. Hammond said she once felt the ghost of a murdered child

creep up behind her and lay its icy fingers on her hand.

Charlie's grandmother is a very religious woman,

and I don't think she would lie.

Do you think there may be ghosts living in there?

It's all right, Diana.

Stop it, Diana, and help me out!

Why did we ever come in here, Anne?

Are you all right?

I twisted my other ankle.

What are we going to do?

You mustn't be afraid, Diana. I'll be all right here.

Run home, find your father, and ask if he'll come back and get me.

You'll get carried off by ghosts. I'd never forgive myself.

Be brave, Diana. Go.

I shall endure till your return,

although I may be forced to faint if my imagination gets the better of me.

I could never feel as safe as your are, Anne.

Bye-bye.

What happened to her?

No fear, Marilla. She's all right.

Don't be very frightened, Marilla.

I fell of the ridgepole at Moody Spurgeon's,

and then I twisted my other ankle falling into an old well.

I should have known she would have stopped for summer this way,

barely the last day of school.

Marilla, look on the bright side I might have broken my neck.

And what would you have done if someone dared you to walk a ridgepole?

I would have stayed on firm ground and let them dare away.

Oh, now, Marilla, don't be too hard on her.

I think she's doing a pretty good job being hard on herself,

especially considering that she took first place in the term results.

Tied for first.

Tied for first place? My Anne?

Well, John Barry, it's certain that she didn't injure her tongue.

Come on!

You clutter up the house too much with outside things.

Don't we have enough flowers right outside our door?

I want the house to look flowery to impress Diana when she arrives for tea.

May I use the rosebud spray tea set, Marilla?

No. The everyday set will be do for your company.

You may have the fruitcake and the cherry preserves,

and there's a bottle of raspberry cordial on the shelf in the kitchen.

Now, tell Matthew that Mrs. Allan will drive me back,

but I'll be late coming back from the Ladies Aid Society,

so you must see that Matthew and Jerry's supper is laid out for them.

Good afternoon, Miss Cuthbert.

Good afternoon, Diana.

Now Anne, I trust that you will be responsible for your guest.

I'll be the perfect hostess.

Have a lovely afternoon, ladies.

May I take your parasol? Here, let me.

So good of you to invite me to tea this afternoon.

Please come in and make yourself comfortable.

Why thank you.

How is your mother?

Very well, thank you.

I saw Mr. Cuthbert hauling potatoes to the Lilly Sand's boat this afternoon.

Our crop is quite good.

We were fortunate to have hired Jerry Buote to help us with the harvest.

Have you picked any apples, yet?

Ever so many! Marilla has been cooking and baking endlessly.

We have enough pies and cakes and preserves to last us for years.

It isn't good manners to tell your guest what you're serving,

so I won't tell you what she said we could have to drink.

Oh, raspberry cordial, right?

Oh, that's my favorite.

You mean you've had it before?

Lots of times. Haven't you?

I must admit, I've never tasted it. But you can have as much as you like.

I have to stir up the fire.

There are so many responsibilities on a person's mind when they're housekeeping.

It's awfully nice, Anne.

Much better than Mrs. Lynde's.

She brags about hers all the time.

I'm not surprised that it's better. Of course, Marilla is a famous cook.

It doesn't taste a bit like it.

She's trying to teach me how to cook.

But I assure you, Diana, I am a dismal failure.

There's no scope of the imagination in cooking.

You simply have to go by the rules.

Last time I made a cake, I forgot to put the flour in it.

I was thinking about the lovely joy about us, Diana.

I imagined you were desperately ill with small pox,

and when everyone deserted you,

I went over to your bedside and nursed you back to life.

Then I took small pox and died.

And you planted a rosebush by my grave, and watered it with your tears.

You never ever forgot the friend of your youth,

who sacrificed her life for yours.

It was such a pathetic story, and I was crying so,

that I forgot to put the flour in the cake.

The cake was a dismal failure. The flour is so essential to baking.

It bubbled all over the inside of the stove.

It was a mess. Marilla was furious.

I don't wonder. I'm such a trial to her.

Oh, I feel sick.

Oh, I've got to go home.

Diana, you haven't eaten yet.

A piece of cake and another glass of cordial will be just the thing.

Please, have some.

You can't be sick! Wake up!

I've got to go home.

No. Lie down. You'll feel better. Now tell me, where does it hurt?

I've got to go home.

Oh. Oh, I'm awful dizzy.

It's probably the small pox epidemic.

Don't worry, Diana; I'll never forsake you. I'll nurse you back to health.

Please stay until after tea.

What the matter, Diana?

She's drunk!

Anne Shirley, what did you give my Diana to drink?

Only raspberry cordial, Mrs. Barry.

Cordial, my foot! The girl smells like Jake Griffith's distillery.

Drunk? My daughter is drunk?

And Mrs. Lynde, the chairwoman of the temperance society.

You are a wicked, wicked girl, Anne Shirley!

It was against my better judgment to let Diana associate with an orphan,

and I've been proven right.

Diana, will never see you again.

Leave our property at once!

Drunk? What on earth did you give her?

Only raspberry cordial.

She had three glasses of it, but I didn't know it would set her drunk.

You certainly have a genius for trouble.

This is current wine, can't you tell the difference?

I've never tasted either.

Stop crying. It wasn't your fault.

I probably put the cordial in the cellar instead of the pantry.

I'll go over and explain.

Marilla, I don't believe a word of it.

Anne Shirley is a conniving, manipulative child,

and she's pulled the wool over your eyes.

I've always warned you about making that current wine, Marilla.

You said it wouldn't have the least effect on anyone. Well, I ask you.

It isn't meant to be drunk three tumbler-fulls at a time.

And if I had a child that was so greedy,

I'd sober her up with a darn good spanking!

Ah! So it's my Diana's fault, is it?

It's the demon liquor's fault.

And as I've told you for years, if you didn't insist on making that current wine-

My current wine is famous all over the Island, Rachel Lynde, as you well know,

and the Reverend Allan, himself, is not opposed to taking a bit

when he comes calling.

And as for Christian virtue, making a little wine for refreshment

is far less sinful than meddling in other people's affairs!

Of all of the unreasonable, pig-headed, self-important women that I have ever met,

she is the worst!

I don't think Mrs. Barry is a well-bred woman.

I don't believe God, Himself, would entirely meet with her approval.

Anne, you mustn't say things like that, especially in front of the minister's wife.

But, if you left God out of it, you'd have it just about right.

This story will make a fine handle for all those folks

who have always been down on my making current wine.

I haven't even attempted it in the past three years.

That bottle was only for sickness.

Oh, don't cry. I don't see it as being your fault.

I'm just sorry it happened at all.

I can't describe, my heart is broken.

The stars in their courses fight against me.

Don't talk such foolishness, child.

Excuse me, Marilla!

Your mother hasn't relented?

I told her it wasn't your fault, and I cried and cried,

but it's no use, Anne. We can't ever be friends again.

Diana,

will you promise never to forget me,

no matter what other friends come into your life?

I could never love anyone as much as I love you, Anne.

Do you really love me?

Of course I do.

Nobody's ever loved me for as long as I can remember,

except for Matthew and Marilla.

Will you swear to be my secret bosom friend?

But isn't it wicked to swear? We're in enough trouble already.

Not when you're swearing a vow.

I solemnly swear

to remain faithful to my bosom friend, Diana Barry,

for as long as the sun and the moon shall endure.

Now you say it.

I solemnly swear to remain faithful

to my bosom friend, Anne Shirley,

for as long as the sun and the moon- - Shall endure.

Shall endure. And as long as my mother doesn't find out.

Oh, she mustn't.

I can't ever...

I have to get back; she'll be suspicious.

Wilt thou give me a lock of thy jet black tresses?

But I don't have any black dresses.

Your hair.

All right.

I have to go.

Farewell, my beloved friend.

Henceforth we must be strangers living side by side,

but my heart will be ever faithful to thee.