Original subtitles

What is it that ages a man?

Is it simply time?

Or the accumulation of life's triumphs and defeats?

Edward George Eden, a medical student of 21 years, studying at

University College.

By all accounts, a bright and ambitious young man with a promising future, but

one whose present is beset by financial frustrations.

It was on the Tuesday of the first week of May, having decided to take his boots

to the cobblers, that Eden first encountered the creature with whom his

life was to become so inextricably entangled.

How do you do?

Mr. Eaton.

Very well, thank you.

You have the advantage of me, sir.

I do indeed.

I wonder who the deuce I am, huh?

A friend. Let me assure you, a friend.

Might I talk to you inside?

I have difficulty standing for long periods.

I'm afraid my room isn't...

It is perhaps less than you're used to.

Well, Mr. Eden, why not come and lunch with me and hear a proposition to your

advantage?

Proposition?

I'm not sure I'll... Come.

Surely my gray hairs must earn me a certain civility.

Been coming to Blavatisky's for longer than I can remember.

Marvelous food.

Wish I could still taste it.

Please eat. Eat.

Now, as you see, Mr. Eaton, I'm an old man.

I believe I've had a life of some distinction, and many men would not

recognize my name.

But I fancy that you may.

Egbert Elvesham.

Elvesham, the philosopher?

Of course, sir. I've known your name since I was a schoolboy.

This is a genuine honor.

My doctor informs me that I shall be shortly leaving this world, and I find

I have much to leave behind.

Now, as to what should happen to my estate,

what I really want...

is an heir.

An heir?

A young fellow, perhaps 21 or thereabouts.

Pure-hearted, healthy in body and healthy in mind, and poor, but quick

-witted and ambitious.

You, Mr. Eden, may inherit all that I have.

You may be lifted from penniless struggle to security, freedom, and

influence.

But tell me, why me?

You, young sir, meet all my requirements.

Of course, there are strict conditions to be imposed, certain burdens.

Kind of.

Burdens. You would have to change your name by deed, Poe.

To Egbert Elverson.

No.

No. When my parents died, all they left me was my name.

I understand.

Unfortunately, my heir must adopt my name.

I'm not too downhearted.

I have another two possible candidates for the position of heir. Please, please

forgive my vanity.

Naturally, if you were to select me, I would, of course, honour your legacy

with your name.

Oh, ah, thank you.

You must at first submit to a series of exhaustive medical

examinations to determine your physical and mental durability.

To think, sir, how you might enjoy all that I have accumulated fills me with

envy.

Despite all the assurances, despite Eden having already taken Elvesham's name,

the old man did not come to a final decision for another two weeks.

Mr.

Elvesham. Is everything quite all right? Indeed it is. Everything is most

satisfactory.

This day I signed a new will.

which you are named as sole beneficiary.

My entire estate will be inherited by you, Mr. Eden.

Or should I say, Mr.

Elversham.

I shall do my very best to be worthy of your memory.

Come, come.

This night of all nights, you must dine with me and celebrate your accession.

You won't have to wait.

Very long.

What a capacity for living you have.

I, thanks to you, I have a future of a passing, agreeable sort.

But you, you have a past full of honour and distinction.

Such a past is worth all my future.

But would you, in truth, willingly take my years?

With your achievements?

Indeed, sir.

Perhaps.

Ah,

cool.

A cure with a sweet kiss.

of caraway and cumin, however.

Here.

What is it?

Pharmaceutical blend.

Prepared to my own specifications.

A dash of this.

And kumul is himul.

I think I perhaps ought not. I never knows with these things. Come, if it's

safe enough for a man of my infirmity, how could it impair a healthy young man

such as yourself?

To a quick succession.

Not that.

Surely not that.

To a long life.

To a long life.

The first touch of the liquor upon Eden's tongue set his brain into a

dazzling chaos.

I want to thank you. What a handsome young man like you.

I expect you've made love to a string of girls, huh?

A ring of girls.

I've scarcely made love to one.

This is... This is not a world where girls seek out penniless

medical students.

No more than a flock around ages philosophers.

But now, if you all...

Legacy. Things will be... Things will be different.

I'll easily find a good woman.

Too early to settle down.

For now, have as many women as you can.

Imagine the sensual opulence of bedding down with a woman and a

man.

Why not experience all the pleasures life has to offer?

I should go, I should go.

It's time to go now.

Right.

Your head will be

splitting in the morning.

Dissolve these salts in water before bed. It will completely cure your head.

Thank you. Thank you.

Not long, may you shall have all that is mine.

Remember, take the salts just before bed.

Farewell, young sir.

Farewell.

um is

The following morning he awoke abruptly from a dream.

His mind felt stale and for some while he hadn't a clue where he was.

Good morning, Mr. Elversham.

I'm not... Not Elversham.

I'm Eden. I'm Eden. Beg your pardon, sir?

I'm not Elversham. I'm Eden.

I'm Eden.

I'm not Elversham.

I'm Edward Eden!

I'm Eden.

I'm Eden.

I'm Eden.

I'm Eden.

Although he couldn't even faintly comprehend how it had happened,

Edward Eden had fallen asleep in his own room, aged 21, and awoke the next

morning in the house of Mr. Egbert Elversham.

in the 80-year-old body of Egbert Elversham. Have you banged your head

recently? Had a fall?

No, it's nothing like that.

Listen, my name is Edward Eden.

Your name is Egbert Elversham, hmm?

Your man Harris said you'd forgotten his name, too.

Look, I haven't forgotten it. I never knew it.

No bruising.

Have, um...

Have you been drinking?

Look, some champagne, liqueur.

Look, I know you don't know me, but... I don't know you.

Egbert, I've been your physician for nearly 30 years. Oh, no, listen.

I know I look like Elversham.

I know I sound like him.

But my name is Edward George Eden.

I'm 21 years old. I'm a medical student.

I met Elversham for the first time just a few weeks ago.

If I might ask, Doctor.

I fear... I fear it may be a softening of the faculties.

Oh.

I think it wise us to ensure he stays safely inside his room.

Of course.

It seemed clear to Eden that...

Just as he had found himself trapped in Elvisham's weak and aged body.

So Elvisham must now be in possession of his body, his strength, and his future.

It's getting so smooth.

It's smoother than yours, sir.

It was in this moment that Eden realized the immense intelligence and scope of

his enemy's plan.

There were manuscripts concerning pure mathematics, chemistry, and the

psychology of memory.

Eden was convinced that the secret to reverse in the terrible mind

transference lay somewhere in Elversham's books.

He was correct.

The solution was indeed there.

Yet to discover it could take a lifetime.

And Eden no longer had a lifetime.

After this, are you gonna buy me that bracelet?

You did promise.

I'm gonna go away later, my dear.

But first...

I think I'll take you back to the hotel.

Are you sure there's time?

I have time to spare, my dear.

I knew you'd be here.

Can I help you?

Yes. Indeed, you could join me in a toast.

Two corn, if you please.

How rude. I fear the man is quite mad.

So I'm not insane, sir.

After the morbid rigmarole.

You've subjected me to... Excuse me, my friend and I are engaged in a private

conversation. You, sir, are a thief!

You've robbed me of my life! What on earth are you talking about? I've never

heard such rot!

Now, drink with me.

I'll do no such thing.

Drink, damn you!

This is becoming quite tiresome.

Come, my dear, let us go see about that bracelet.

In that moment of anger, Eden had destroyed his only chance of escape.

How must it feel to be young and full of the vitality and energy and desire of

youth, and then to suddenly fall right through your life and come to

decrepitude?

To know you are a young man, but to find yourself locked away inside an old man's

body.

But then, perhaps...

That is how all men feel when they reach the end of their days.

How far would you go for your art?

That's the question as Ray Winston returns to take us back into the

nightmare worlds of H.G. Wells, next on Sky Arts.