All language subtitles for Lady Chatterley 1993 S1E1

This programme contains some scenes
of a sexual nature.

Ours is a tragic age.
So we refuse to take it tragically.

The cataclysm has happened.
We are among the ruins.

We start to build up new little
habitats, to have new little hopes.
It's extremely hard work.

But we have got to go on living,
no matter how many skies may fall.

The spirit struggles on into
new life. But the body is not yet
filled with new blood and new fire,

which is the resurrection into
full life. (How absurd.) We are
indebted to the Chatterley family

for the memorial plaque which will
serve to remind future generations
of the brave men of this parish

who gave their lives for us
in the Great War, 1914-1918.

Sir Clifford, would you kindly
lay the first wreath?

ORGAN PLAYS "SHEEP MAY SAFELY GRAZE"

Who's luckier, do you think?
My brother or me? Clifford, please.

I believe I am. Herbert
has his immortality, but I have
his title and Wragby Hall.

Thank you, Field.

A most moving sermon, Rector.
Thank you, my Lady.

Our sons are dead. A whole
generation of young men destroyed.

What "little hopes" remain,
do you think, Rector?

- We must think of the living.
- Provided they're not all dead.

Take the Chatterleys. Herbert was
killed and Clifford is paralysed.

His father, the family name doomed
to extinction, died of grief.

It will be a great loss
when there are no more Chatterleys.

Careful, Field! Sir Clifford, Lady
Constance, thank you for joining us.

We owe you every kindness.
If there's anything we can do...

I hardly think so. I'm delighted
there's still a Chatterley at Wragby.
We'll try to keep tradition alive.

Do come and visit us at Dale Abbey.

Thank you. We'd love to. I doubt
we'll be putting in an appearance

anywhere that one is an object
of charity. Field! We do understand.

Do come to tea next week, perhaps?
I look forward to it, my Lady.

Thank God THAT'S over with!
They're only trying
to do the right thing.

By Jove, Connie, your neck
must be more rubbery than mine if
you can stand that sort of thing!

They've cut production,
and they'll cut wages next!
You bloody tell 'em!

The bosses are taking the food
from your children's mouths!

BAND PLAYS "ANYTHING FOR JESUS"

Are you all right? Better mud than
pity! Careful! Step on it, Field!

This ghastly war between classes!
It's as if we're different species!

It's always been like that
in the Midlands.

You'll get used to it.
I shan't. Do they hate us?

Does it matter? They need us.
But are they the enemy?

You see them trespassing, poaching.
Don't they seem like the enemy?
Why must Wragby come between us?

Be glad it does. How would you like
to live in a hovel? I shouldn't.

CAR-HORN

Here's to you, Connie.
You've been so wonderful to me.

A loyal wife, a good companion,
a patient nurse.
You're patient with me.

Patient, considerate, witty...
Oh! Brave...
An almost perfect husband, in fact.

Well, to us both, then.
The lucky ones.

To be wounded with the war
nearly over, one might almost say
that was..dreadful luck.

You're alive. That's what matters.
How long have we been married?
Six months?

Only one month living together
as a real man and wife.

I thought you'd mind terribly.
I mind for your sake.
Why should I mind for myself?

Perhaps you're right. There's
something much stronger than sex
between you and I, isn't there?

Yes, of course.

Clifford, do you think
it's about time we got a valet,
a manservant for you?

Lady Rathbone's butler has
a cousin... We can't afford another
servant. We can afford a gamekeeper.

I don't need a butler. I have you.

And we've always had a gamekeeper.
Mellors has come back to his post.

I hear he terrifies
the village children
if they venture into our orchard.

Yes, he's a sort of wild man of the
woods. Keeps very much to himself.

But he's a good keeper. And
he watches fiercely for poachers.
The "enemy".

Hm.

SOMEONE WEEPING

What's this now?

Give over! Jumping on the pheasants,
biting their necks! Think
about that, then cry for them.

What's going on? ..See now,
my Lady's looking at you.

Shut it up! Why is she crying?

Better ask HER that. I asked YOU !

Aye, I know you did, but I can't
say as I understand it meself.

What is it, dear?
Don't be afraid to tell me.

Here's a sixpence, and tell me
what hurt you. The pussycat.
What cat, dear? He shot it.

No wonder she's crying if you shot
it in front of her. He set about
Sir Clifford's pheasant chicks.

Look, never mind. You keep your
sixpence and tell me your name.

B-Betty. B-Betty Mellors.

Oh, well, that's a nice name, Betty.
Do you like walking in the wood?

My dad made me go. You didn't want
to? I wanted to stop with me Gran.

My mother cleans up my place every
Friday. Brings the child with her.

Shall I take you back
to your Gran? Come on, then.

I'll take her back
whilst you do what you have to do.
You don't have to. But I shall.

Why did you come by yourself, love?
Oh! Whatever...? Hello, Mrs Mellors.

Betty was upset so I brought her.
Very kind, I'm sure.
He shot the pussycat.

It was only a poaching cat,
but it upset her.

Look, Gran.
Sixpence, an' all?

You've been doing very well!
And what did you say?
Thank you.

Thank you, Your LADYship.
Thank you, Your LADYship.

Off you go and wash your face.

I knowed there'd be trouble of some
sort when he took her off with him.
He's too ready wi' his hand.

She's the sort as never forgives.
So you may imagine
how they get on together.

Not at all, I suppose. You're right.
I'm his mother and we don't get on
too bright either, I can tell you.

Well, anyway, goodbye, Mrs Mellors.

Good day, your Ladyship. Thank you
for bringing the child home.

"Two horses draw
the chariot of a man's soul,

"the savage black horse of desire
and the delicate white horse
of the spirit.

"When the soul beholds
the vision of love,

"the obedient steed, always under
the government of shame, refrains
from leaping on the beloved.

"But the other, heedless of
the pricks and blows of the whip,
plunges and runs away." Damn!

I do think Socrates is stupid and
overbearing with his black horse.

Black Horse is merely a symbol of
our passions. Do you think he has
a right to his desires? Why not?

He has a right to his desires,
or he shouldn't exist. Shouldn't
desire and passion be curbed?

Don't you curb your black horse?
I don't want to. I mean to set him
free once he's found his way.

Oh, damn philosophers and their
curbings! What do they know?

But I know, and I want to speak
of it now so YOU'LL know.

I don't want you to feel
you've brought me a sacrifice.

I don't.

You did want me before
this happened, didn't you? Yes!

I've been mutilated,
but what about you?

Your body hasn't been broken,

and you don't need to be buried up
to the waist to keep me company.
I'm not deprived of anything I want.

You're the real loser. I know
how I depend on you. I live on you.

You know how I want you to.

I know, and it's bitter.
We've got to make the best
of it so I tell you now.

If you meet a man you absolutely
want, for your sexual life, take
him! Have a lover if you want to.

Let's speak no more of this. I am
your wife for better or for worse.
I don't want anyone else.

MUSIC:
"A LONG, LONG TRAIL A-WINDING"

SINGING AND MARCHING FEET

EXPLOSION

MACHINE-GUN FIRE AND SHOUTING

STATIC

GENTLE CLASSICAL MUSIC

Are you going out today? I was
thinking of getting some fresh air.

Could you pass Mellors' cottage
and ask him to drop in tomorrow?

Yes, if you want me to.

You don't sound too eager!
No, I'm happy to, it's just
that he can be so disagreeable.

Well, if you don't want to,
get Field or Marshall to ask him.
No, I'll do it. Don't be silly.

Oh! Oh...

I'm sorry, I didn't know.
Your Ladyship... Shall you come in?

Did you knock before? Em... No.

I sort of wondered
if I heard something.

Oh, em... Sir Clifford says,
could you come and see him
tomorrow afternoon?

Oh, aye, I'll call in before lunch,
then, tomorrow,
if Sir Clifford wants.

Thank you.

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, your Ladyship.

Ha! Connie, you must listen
to this. "Oh, if only the women
had covered their faces,

"what fire of passion would have
flamed through Hajji Baba's body!

"But, seeing all the bold, naked
indecency of their countenances,
his fire was quenched!"

Don't you think that it's
rather a pity that we never see
anything of people but their faces?

What, cover their faces and walk
with their bodies naked? Yes. Why
should we see nothing but a face?

The face reveals the personality.

Perhaps the body has a life of
its own truer than the personality.
What part? Stomach? Heart? Lungs?

Well, why is a torso in a sculpture
often so lovely without a head?

It's because it has
a life of its own.
A rather mindless one, I suspect.

BELL RINGS

You called, master?

This is no time for practical jokes.

I am your faithful servant.

What sort of game is this?

Your wish...is my command.

Stop play-acting!

Why are you doing this to me?
You don't even WISH to touch me!

I can't. Not any more.

It would be cruel to both of us.

I'm sorry, Cliff.

I think this is really
the very heart of England.

When you think of the past, the men
who've gone from here to war...

My father and his workmen
felling trees for the trenches...

Now you and me.
Who'll come after us, Connie?

I suppose the colliers
will take it over.

They'll tear it down
and turn it into a day-school for
their kids. Perhaps it won't be so.

It's never the obvious that happens.

To me, Wragby stands for all that
is decent, dignified and beautiful.

If some of old England
isn't preserved,
there'll be no England left.

We, who have this property
and the feeling for it,

must preserve it. Well,
I'm not from an ancestral hall, so
all this leaves me rather unmoved.

Well, it wouldn't
if you had children.

I'm sorry that
I can't give you a son,
carry on your family tradition.

Yes, well... Do you think
you might...consider it?
Consider what?

Having a child. I could train it
to hang on to Wragby, the mines...
All of it!

The fight for property and
the right to own it! You wouldn't
mind if another man touched me?

Mind? Of course I'd mind.
But it's no use my minding, is it?

It might be a good idea
if you had a child by another man.

If we brought it up at Wragby,
it would belong to us,
and the place.

I don't mind about fatherhood. If
we had a child to rear, it would
be ours, and it would carry on!

Do you think you might consider it?
You know quite well that I couldn't.

DOG BARKING
Bramble!

I say, Mellors!

Come over here and give me
a hand with the chair! Sir.

WHEELCHAIR MOTOR ROARING

Connie! Not too tired, are you?

Oh, no.

That'll do, Mellors.

Goodnight, your Ladyship.

Goodnight.

Thank you for your help, Mellors.
You're welcome, Sir Clifford.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, sir.

Why did you run to open the gate?

Mellors could have managed that.
I thought you'd want to go straight
on. Does it matter? Of course not!

Oh! Bless my soul!

Festive enough, Mrs Marshall?

Oh, yes, my Lady! It looks lovely!

Mr Mellors has arrived with holly
and some more pheasant tails.
He was wondering if it was enough.

Em... Is he still here?

He's in the kitchen, my Lady.
Could you tell him to wait?
Very well, my Lady.

Oh, there you are, Jill.
Get on with it. Oh, that's splendid!

Splendid. If your Ladyship would
like any more, a bit of spruce?

No, no, let the trees keep
their branches. It seems a pity
to bring them indoors to die.

I'll go, then,
if there's nothing else.

No, no, nothing else.

Now, where shall we put all this?
There's room in the hall, my Lady.

I dread Christmas since the war.

Why, my Lady?

Sir Clifford was wounded
on Christmas Day.

Arthur, give me a riff!
FLOURISH ON THE PIANO
Come on, everybody! Musical chairs!

Ready... GO !

PIANO PLAYS

SQUEALING

AWW !
PIANO STARTS AGAIN

Well, I suppose it would be absurd
to ask if YOU'RE happy! Why, Father?

Well, ARE you? You certainly
don't give that impression.

I think I'm doing what I should do.

Then you're not being kind
to yourself or anyone else.

Perhaps not.
I'm not sure of anything. You're
shutting yourself off from life.

I'd be careful what I did with
my youth. It doesn't last forever.

Well, what SHOULD I do, then?
Live your life. It's Christmas.
Dance! Flirt a bit, if you like.

Whatever you do, don't fret.
I'll take care of Clifford.

I've been waiting for you.
For how long now, Donald? Why
aren't you joining in? I don't know.

I'd rather not. Is it a crime
to still be yearning for you?
Not if you leave it at that.

I'm in love with you tonight.
Is it the wine
or just your Christmas spirit?

You used to care for me too.
Remember? That was a long time ago.
We were hardly more than children.

I'm an incurable romantic.
And I am a faithful wife.

Ladies and gentlemen!
"Oranges and Lemons"!

# Oranges and lemons
Say the bells of St Clement's! #
CHIP, CHOP, OFF WITH HIS HEAD ! Agh!

# You owe me five farthings... #
CHIP, CHOP, OFF WITH HIS HEAD !

You know, Connie, you are wonderful.

I am? Why? The way you manage!
I was a dreadful housekeeper.

And your patience with Clifford
is wonderful. But he is patient with
me. Oh, I know. He's wonderful too.

And his BRAIN is as brilliant
as ever, but... Know what I mean?
Only half a man, as you might say.

It's dreadful. And, obviously, as
your sister, I'm concerned for you,

being deprived of half of a woman's
life. It's worse for you. You're
healthy. What am I deprived of?

Having a real husband.

Poor darling, you're bound to suffer
with all that taken away.

Or don't you mind?

I've got a real husband. I mind
for his sake that he's paralysed,
but not for mine.

No? Perhaps you're right. Perhaps
it doesn't matter if you love him.

I loved my husband and it was
wonderful. But now he's as real
to me as the Duke of Wellington.

A man provides for a woman's life,
but he doesn't really enter into it,
does he?

I don't know, Hilda.
Perhaps not.

When I think of all the men
I've known, not one of them has
seemed as real to me as my butler.

Some men do give one a safe feeling,
though. Father's a tyrant, but
one does feel safe when he's about.

And which of my darling daughters
is going to honour me
with the last waltz?

Perhaps you ought to have a fling
with some nice young man.

FATHER:
Oh! Quick! It's nearly midnight!

As Christmas parties go, daughter,
that was quite tolerable, but I wish
you'd come away with me for a while.

You need a break. I was feeling down
last night, but I'm all right now.
Don't worry. Come to Mandalay.

I'll be there all winter, painting
seascapes. I can't leave Clifford
in winter. What about the summer?

Or come and stay with ME, darling.
Perhaps... Bye, Hilda.
Bye, both! See you!

You've got your brakes jammed,
know what I mean?
Goodbye, Father. Goodbye.

Race you, Father!
One...two...three!

HILDA:
Goodbye!

"The universe shows us
two aspects.

"On one side, it is physically
wasting; on the other,
it is spiritually ascending.

"It is thus slowly passing,
the slowness inconceivable
in our measures of time."

SHE YAWNS
"In our measures..."

BELL RINGS

Now I'm getting up...

Now I'm getting dressed...

Now I'm going down to Clifford.

Oh... I've gone mad!

Now I'm going to say...

Good morning, Clifford!
Did you have a better night, dear?

Didn't you sleep?

Didn't you sleep at all?
Oh, poor old Con.

Clifford, I invited Hilda... NO !
Not again! We saw her at Christmas!

You're quite fond of Hilda, really,
you know you are.

I haven't spoken to a soul
in weeks! Even Mrs Marshall said...

What? Oh, all right, Connie,
so long as I don't have
to talk to her.

Thank you, Clifford.

Connie, whatever is the matter?

Oh, it's nothing, really.

You're ill, child. I can tell
by looking at you. I'm just a little
tired. It's this wretched place!

Hilda,
you are not to upset Clifford.

HE PLAYS PIANO SONATA

What's wrong with Connie? She looks
dreadful! A bit paler, certainly.
Haven't you done anything about it?

Do you think that's really
necessary? Yes, I do!

She's been under a tremendous strain
of late! I want her to come
to London and stay with me.

She can see a decent doctor. We have
Dr Shardlow. She needs REST !

Mother worried herself to death,
we're not taking any risks on Connie!

You really must have a nurse. I've
had enough of nurses, thank you!

You're not a cheerful man to wait
on. Am I expected to be cheerful?
Not if you don't want to be.

But you mustn't pour
all your depression over Connie.
You can see what it does to her.

I'd say you ought to have a nurse.

Are you the person to tell me so?

It looks like it, doesn't it?
Connie's coming to London tomorrow.

SLEEPY JAZZ TUNE

You should get away more often,
darling. I can't, Hilda.
Not at the moment.

I must get a nurse for Clifford.

Then when he's used to her, I could
get away, maybe in the summer.

Well, you know Father's invited us
to Mandalay. We could go together!

Like our old student days
in Germany?

We need a Florence Nightingale
for Clifford.
I have thought of someone.

Mrs Bolton.

Who's Mrs Bolton? The District
Nurse. She's had a few battles with
him over miners' compensations,

but I think he quite respects her.

Ohh!
Sounds a formidable lady!

Must be worth a TRY-Y-Y !

Dear me! Your bedsores,
Sir Clifford! Oh, my word!
We must do better with those!

Perhaps today
you can sit in your chair a bit.
The more you move about, the better.

Now, turn over... Leave it!
I can manage. Just as you like.

You must tell me just how you want
things done. It's a big change for
me, taking care of a real gentleman.

Not like the miners,
who sometimes make a fuss. But then,
they HAVE to do what I say.

Oh, don't want any crumbs, do we?
We'll soon have you
nice and straight again.

I'm sure I don't want to be any
trouble to you. Would you like me
to shave you now, Sir Clifford?

Or would you rather I didn't bother
you? Do you mind if we leave it for
half an hour? Just as you prefer.

Very well, then. Half an hour.
Very good, sir.

Oh, would you mind just passing me
that book?

No, no, not that one.
The yellow one.

Thank you, Mrs Bolton.
If that's all, Sir Clifford?
Hm...? Yes, yes, that's all.

Good morning!
How are you, Mrs Bolton?

I'm very well, thank you, my Lady.
Good morning, dear. How are you?

Morning. You've had your bath
already? Yes, Mrs Bolton managed
it. Shall I shave you, then? Ah.

I told Mrs Bolton... But if...
Mrs Bolton is coming back to
shave me in half an hour. Splendid.

I'm sure Sir Clifford would prefer...
No, no, I expect he enjoys your
professional touch. Right, dear?

Hmm? You see?
Well, if you say so, my Lady.

Sir Clifford is reading about
the mystical union with the One,
which means nothing at all to me!

Will you get up
a little later, dear?

Yes, before lunch.

I'll come back and help you dress.

Lady Chatterley, I hope you're not
supposing that... What, Mrs Bolton?

I'm here to do what I can for you
and Sir Clifford. But if
I'm intruding... Of course not!

In fact, wouldn't you prefer
to have your meals with us?

Oh, dear me, no! I'm not proud!
I should look well, thinking myself
too grand to eat with Mrs Marshall!

My word! Well, if you're sure.
No, thank you, my Lady. I'll eat
with them in the kitchen if I may.

Sir Clifford may not show it, but
I'm sure he's very pleased with you.

That gives me freedom. You need
some colour in your cheeks, my Lady.

Mm! Irish stew, my Lady.
Such a bright sunny day!
You could go for a walk, my Lady.

Have you seen the daffs behind
the keeper's cottage? I'm sure
you'd like some in your room.

Mm. Well, perhaps this afternoon,
when Sir Clifford's up. I haven't
walked in the woods for ages.

CUCKOO CALLS

DOG BARKS

BANGING

I wondered what the hammering
was. You're mending
the chicken-coops for your hens.

Aye. They'll be nesting
on the pheasants' eggs soon.

Shall you sit down for a while?
There's a bench.
You've not been well, I know.

Yes, I think I will. Thank you.

I'll carry on, then.

HAMMERING

Oh, it's so lovely here.

I should like to come to the hut
sometime. Just to sit here and...

You lock the door when you're
not here, don't you? Aye.

Are there two keys?

No.

Could you get another one?

Another key for the hut?

Yes. Don't you understand
what I'm saying?

I understand, my Lady, but where
am I to find another key if Sir
Clifford hasn't got one? Has he?

He might have.

Well, then I'll ask him for it.

I'm here a good bit by myself this
time of year. What do you mean?

I mean, I must find the eggs
and put broody hens to sit.

Yes, I know.

Maybe you won't want to be here
with only me around.

Why on earth should I be afraid
of being here alone with you?

Afraid? No. I only thought
as you might not care for it, like.

But I don't want you to stay away.

I should like to come here and help
with the young pheasants
when they hatch.

It's Sir Clifford's hut.
And your Ladyship pleases herself.

If Sir Clifford hasn't got a key,
you'll have another made from
the one you've got. Understand?

If you let me know when you want it.

Subtitles by Anne Morgan