All language subtitles for Ef

FONTANE
EFFI BRIEST or

Many people who are aware
of their own capabilities and needs,

yet acquiesce to the prevailing system
in their thoughts and deeds,

thereby confirm and reinforce it.

A film by
Rainer Werner Fassbinder

In front of the Briests'
manor in Hohen-Cremmen,

the family seat since the time
of Elector Georg Wilhelm,

the village street lay still,
bathed in the midday sun.

On the park side,
a wing built on at right angles

cast a broad shadow
on a white and green chequered path

and on a large, round flower bed
with a sundial in the middle

and Canna indica and rhubarb
around its edge.

Effi, you should have become
an equestrian artiste.

Always on the trapeze,
an aerial spirit!

I do believe you would enjoy it.

Perhaps, Mama.

But then who would be to blame?

Whom do I take after if not you?

Or do you think Papa?

You have to laugh yourself.

Why don't you make
a lady out of me, then?

- Would you like that?
- No.

No.

Don't be so boisterous, Effi!
Not so impetuous!

It worries me
when I see you like this.

A story of renunciation
is never amiss.

Baron Innstetten was not even 20

when he was garrisoned over there
with the Rathenow regiment

and was on friendly terms
with the local landowners.

He especially liked to visit
my grandfather's estate in Schwantikow,

not because of grandfather,
of course.

When Mama talks about it,

it's obvious for whom he came
and I think the feeling was mutual.

What happened then?

Everything took its natural course,
as it always does.

He was still so very young.

Then father came along.

He was already in the council of nobles
and owned Hohen-Cremmen,

and she accepted him
without more ado

and became Frau von Briest.

And what became of Innstetten?

He didn't kill himself
or he wouldn't be coming today.

He resigned his commission
and began to study law.

But Frau von Briest, who could also be
unconventional herself,

detained Effi
as she was hurrying off.

She looked at
the charming young creature,

who was still flushed from playing
and in the bloom of youth.

And she confided to her,
"I think you had best stay as you are.

"Yes, stay as you are.
You look very comely,

"so innocent and unprepared,
not at all primped up.

"And that's the main thing right now.

"I have something to tell you, Effi..."
She took her daughter by both hands.

"I must tell you..."

"What's the matter, Mama?
You frighten me."

"I have to tell you, Effi,

"that Baron Innstetten
has asked for your hand."

"Asked to marry me?
Seriously?"

"It's not a matter to joke about.

"You saw him two days ago,
and I think you liked him.

"He is older than you,
but that is all to the good.

"He's a man of good character,
well-situated and well-bred,

"and if you don't say no,
which I scarcely expect you to do,

"by the age of 20 you will be
where others are at 40.

"You'll rise much higher
than your mother."

Effi, come here!

Effi was not greatly interested
in mundane possessions,

but when she went strolling
with her mother

perusing the window displays,
and went into the Demuth store

to purchase all manner of things
for her honeymoon in Italy,

her true character revealed itself.

Only the most elegant things would do,

and she would renounce
all idea of the second-best.

Second-best
meant nothing to her anymore.

She knew how to do without things,

and in forgoing things like that
she seemed undemanding.

But when she really
set her heart on something,

it had to be quite exceptional,

and in that respect,
she was demanding.

- What else have you set your heart on?
- Nothing, Mama.

- Nothing at all?
- Nothing, quite seriously.

But if there were something...

Well?

...it would be
a black Japanese screen

with golden birds on it
with long bills like cranes.

And a lamp for our bedroom
that would radiate a red light.

Now you're silent and look at me
as if I'd said something improper.

No, Effi, not improper,
and certainly not to your mother.

I know you too well.

You have a great imagination,

and you conjure up
pictures of the future.

The more colourful they are,

the lovelier and more desirable
they seem to you.

I became aware of that when we were
shopping for your honeymoon.

Now you think it would be wonderful
to have a bedroom screen

with all kinds of fabulous beasts on it
and all lit by a dim red lamp.

It seems like a fairy tale to you,
and you would like to be the princess.

Yes, Mama, that's how I am.

Yes, that's how you are.
I'm aware of that.

But my dear Effi,
we have to tread warily in life,

especially we women.

Don't you love Geert?

Why shouldn't I love him?
I love Bertha, I love Hulda,

I love old Niemeyer,

and needless to say,
I love you and Papa.

I love everyone
who's nice to me and spoils me.

Geert will spoil me, too.
He wants to buy me jewellery in Venice.

He doesn't know
I don't care for jewellery.

I prefer to clamber around
and play on the swing,

fearing that something will break
and I'll fall,

but knowing
it won't cost me my neck.

Do you love your cousin Briest?

Very much.
He's always so amusing.

Would you have liked to marry him?

Good heavens, no!
He's hardly more than a boy.

Whereas Geert's a man,

a handsome man,

with whom I can cut a dash,

who will make a mark on the world.

- What entered your mind?
- You're right, Effi. I'm glad to hear it.

But you have something else
on your mind.

Perhaps.

Tell me, then!

Well, you see, Mama,

the fact that he's older than I am,

doesn't matter.
Perhaps it's a good thing.

He's not really old.

He's fit and well
and soldierly and dashing.

I could almost say I'm all for him,
if only... Well...

- If only he were just a little different.
- Different in what way?

Yes, in what way?

You mustn't laugh at me, Mama.

It's something I heard only recently
at the pastor's house.

We were talking about Innstetten,

when suddenly
old Niemeyer frowned

in an admiring sort of way
and said,

"The baron is a man of principles."

- So he is, Effi.
- Of course.

I think Niemeyer even said Innstetten
was a person of...great probity.

And that seems to me
to be even higher.

But I am not at all.

You see, Mama,

that's something
that pains and frightens me.

He's so kind and good to me,

so considerate.

But I'm afraid of him.

A man in his position
has to be cold, of course.

On what do people founder in life
if not on warm human emotions?

There is nothing like a wedding!

Except one's own, of course.

I don't know how you can say
such a thing, Briest.

It's news to me that you
have suffered from marriage.

I can't imagine why.

Let's not talk about us.

We didn't even have a honeymoon!

Your father was against it.

But Effi is going on honeymoon.

How I envy her!

On the ten o'clock train
off they went!

They must be...

They must be somewhere
near Regensburg by now.

I imagine he'll describe
the treasures

of the Valhalla
without alighting, of course.

Innstetten is...an excellent person

but a bit of an art fiend.

Whereas Effi,
our poor Effi is a child of nature.

I'm afraid he'll torment her
with his enthusiasm for art.

All men torment their wives.

There are worse things
than a passion for art.

You're right.
We don't want to quarrel over that.

It's much too vast a subject.

And every person's different.

You would have been
in your element.

You'd have suited Innstetten
far better than Effi.

A pity! Now it's too late.

The other things will be sent on.

Thank you.

Off we go, Kruse!

They are dependent
on the regions they trade with,

and since they have
connections throughout the world,

you'll find people among them
from all over the world,

even in our good old Kessin,
although it's out in the sticks.

But it's delightful, Geert.

You always speak of "the sticks",

but I find a whole new world
to discover: all sorts of exotic things.

That's what you really meant?

A whole new world,
with a black man or a Turk perhaps

or even a Chinese.

Even a Chinese.
How well you guess!

Possibly we do still have one.
We certainly used to have one.

He's dead now and buried
in a little fenced-off plot of earth,

right next to the churchyard.

If you're not afraid,
I'll show you...

...his grave sometime.

It lies among the dunes,

surrounded by marram grass
and a few immortelles.

And always the sound of the sea

it's very beautiful,

but also rather eerie.

Yes, eerie,

and I'd like to know more about it.

Then again, maybe not.

If I hope to sleep well tonight,
I won't want to see a Chinese by my bed.

How you spoil your poor little Effi!

A grand piano, and this rug:
I do believe it's Turkish.

And the bowl with fish,
and the jardinière!

I'm being spoiled on all sides!

The master was quite right,

"Up with the lark"
was my parents' motto, too.

If you sleep away the morning,
the whole day is in disarray.

But the master won't be
too strict with me.

I lay awake a long time last night.
I was even somewhat afraid.

What do I hear, ma'am?
What happened?

I heard a strange sound above me:

not loud, but insistent,

like dresses with long trains
brushing over the floorboards.

In my agitation, I thought
I saw small, white, satin shoes

as if someone were dancing up there,
very quietly.

That's in the hall upstairs.

We used to hear it in the kitchen, too.
But not anymore.

We've grown accustomed to it.

Effi...
You're a delightful creature.

You have no idea
how much I think so,

and how I wish to show you
every moment that I think so.

There's plenty of time for that.

I'm only 17
and don't intend to die yet.

Not before me, at least.

Admittedly,

if I were to die,
I would like to take you with me.

No one else should have you.

What do you say to that?

I'll have to think it over.

But let's forget it.
I don't like talking about death.

I'm in favour of living.

What sort of life shall we lead here?

In "good old Kessin",
as you call it,

there must be some society
we can keep.

Are there good families
in the town?

No, my dear Effi,

in that respect
you'll be greatly disappointed.

You'll meet a few members
of the local aristocracy.

But here in the town there's nobody.

Nobody at all?
That's hard to believe.

Nearly 3,000 people
live in the town.

And among a population of 3,000,
apart from people like Beza, the barber,

there must be
some kind of elite or so...

As well as the common people,
there must be an elite.

And the room upstairs,
where the curtains brush the floor...

But...

...what do you know
about that room?

Only what I just said.

For a good hour,

when I woke up last night,

it was as if I heard shoes
shuffling over the ground,

as if someone were dancing.

And something like music,
but very faint.

When I told Johanna
about it this morning,

in excuse for having
slept so long afterwards,

she said it was the long curtains
in the room upstairs.

To put an end to the matter,

I think we should
simply cut them shorter,

or close the windows.

The stormy season
will soon be here anyway,

by the middle of November.

Show him in!

My husband already told me.

He's in his office,
but he should be back any minute.

I'd like to tell you
how much pleasure

your beautiful flowers
and card gave me yesterday.

I ceased to feel
like a stranger here.

And when I told Innstetten,
he said we would become firm friends.

The district councillor said that?

The councillor
and your dear self,

are, if I may say so, ma'am,
the perfect match of two kind persons.

For I know what your husband is like,
and I can see how you are, ma'am.

I hope your eyes don't deceive you.

- I'm so very young, and youth...
- Ah, my dear lady,

don't say anything against youth.

Youth, with all its faults,
is something beautiful and engaging.

Whereas age, for all its virtues
is not worth much.

Personally, I can't say
much on the matter.

About age, I can,
but not about youth,

because I was never really young.

People like me are never young.

That is the saddest thing of all.

One has no pluck.

One lacks self-confidence.

The years go by,

one grows old,

and life was meagre...and empty.

Oh, you shouldn't say such things!

- We women are not that bad.
- No, of course not.

Gieshübler would have liked
to declare his love

and, like El Cid
or some other hero,

sought her permission
to fight and die for her.

Since this was not possible
and his heart could bear no more,

he stood up, looked for his hat,
which he found at once,

and, after repeatedly kissing
Effi's hand, quickly withdrew

without a further word.

Everywhere Effi went,
she had the same impression:

mediocre people,
usually of dubious charm,

who, while talking about Bismarck
and the Crown Princess,

were really eyeing Effi's attire.

Some thought it too pretentious
for such a young lady,

others found it unseemly
for a lady of her social standing.

They recognised the influence
of Berlin,

a regard for appearances,

a strange awkwardness
and uncertainty

in her approach to major issues.

For the Borckes in Rothenmoor

and the families in
Morgnitz and Dabergotz

she was "afflicted with rationalism,"

while the Grasenabbs in Kroschentin
declared her to be an "atheist."

Admittedly, old Frau von Grasenabb,

née Stiefel von Stiefelstein
from south Germany,

had made a vague attempt
to claim Effi for the ideas of deism.

But Sidonie von Grasenabb,
a 43-year-old spinster,

would have none of it,
"She's an atheist, Mother,

"and that's the truth of the matter!"

Whereupon, the old lady,
who feared her own daughter,

wretchedly held her tongue.

Yes, we should celebrate this day,
but I'm not sure how.

Shall I play you a victory march?

Or should I...

...bear you in triumph
across the hall?

We ought to do something,

for you should know
today's courtesy visit was the last.

Thank goodness!

But the mere feeling that
we can relax now is celebration enough.

You might give me a kiss, though.

But you don't even think of that.

Not a token of affection
the whole journey.

- You're as icy as a snowman.
- Don't go on!

I shall mend my ways.

Then came their first separation,
which lasted almost 12 hours.

Dear Mama!

Can I?

You called, ma'am?

Johanna, I'm going to bed.
It's still early, I know.

But I feel so alone.

Please post the letter first.

When you return,
it will be time for bed.

And even if it isn't...

- What's she like?
- She's very young.

But that's no bad thing,
quite the opposite.

The young ones just stand
in front of the mirror

titivating themselves all the time,
so they don't see or hear too much.

They don't count candle stumps
or begrudge a person a kiss

just because they don't
get any themselves anymore.

My previous mistress was like that,

but the present one's not.

- Is he very affectionate?
- Oh, yes. You can imagine.

But he leaves her alone.

Yes, but don't forget
there's the prince, Frau Paaschen!

And he is district councillor
after all.

He may want to rise even higher.

Of course he does. And he will.
It lies in his nature.

My husband says so, too.
He's a good judge of people.

I'm so afraid.

That'll pass, ma'am.
We've all been afraid.

You've all been afraid?

What do you mean?

If you're really afraid, ma'am,
I can make up a bed here

and sleep here till tomorrow,
or until the master comes back.

The master shouldn't find out I'm afraid.
He doesn't like that.

He wants me to be brave.
But I can't be.

I know I have to overcome my fears...

...and do as he wishes.

What's the matter with your mistress?
Kruse said you'd slept over there.

Yes, sir.

Madam rang three times quickly.
Not without reason, I thought.

And I was right.

Probably a dream,
or the other thing.

- What other thing?
- Oh, you know, sir.

I know nothing.
Anyway, it must stop.

Half an hour later,
Effi appeared.

She looked lovely, quite pale
and leaning on Johanna's arm.

But when she saw Innstetten,

she ran to him
and hugged and kissed him,

and the tears ran down her cheeks.

You see, Effi,
I can't just go away from here,

even if one could sell the house
or exchange it for another.

It would be like
a rebuff to the prince.

I can't have the people here saying,
"Innstetten is selling his house

"because his wife thought the picture

"of a Chinaman near her bed
was a ghost."

That would be the end of me.

One would never live down
the ridicule.

You have no idea how ambitious I am.

I married you out of ambition.

Don't pull such a serious face!

I love you.

What does one say when one plucks
a flower and pulls out the petals?

"I love you with all my heart,
with every part."

- Is someone buried there?
- Yes, the Chinese.

- Ours?
- Yes, ours.

Then there is something to it?
Some story?

You'd better tell me all about it.

The truth can't torment me
more than my imagination.

Where does one begin?
Even with stories it's difficult.

Oh, Geert, how delightful it all is,

and what a dull existence
I led in Hohen-Cremmen!

Never anything out of the ordinary!

You shouldn't talk like that.

Whatever you think about ghosts,

beware of things that are unusual,
or what people call "unusual"!

What you find so enticing,

including the sort of life
Miss Trippelli leads,

is usually gained
at the cost of happiness.

It arrives in Berlin at 6:50,
and an hour later

if the Wind's right,
they'll hear it in Hohen-Cremmen,

rattling past in the distance.

Would you like to be on it, Effi?

Gieshübler was very fond
of his artist friend

and esteemed her talents highly.

But his enthusiasm
did not blind him to the fact

that she possessed
only modest social accomplishments.

And these were what he cultivated
assiduously himself.

Dear Marietta, I have ordered
a modest supper for 8 o'clock.

We still have 45 minutes

unless you'd prefer to sing
a cheerful song at table.

I wonder what he'll bring.

Something by Gluck, I imagine,
something highly dramatic.

If I may say so, Miss Trippelli,

I'm surprised to hear
you're only a concert singer.

I think you'd be ideally suited
to the stage more than most.

"Lullaby" by Louis Spohr.

All is slumbering,
sweet and deep

Come, my child,
now you must sleep

Outside it's the wind
that sighs

Whispering "sususu",
its lullabies

Sleep, my child, sleep!

That's enough!

I wish I could tell you,
how grateful I am to you!

It was all so...

...lovely, so assured,
so fluent.

But most of all, I admire...

...the calmness
with which you perform.

I'm so impressionable.

The least mention of ghosts
makes me tremble,

and I am unable
to regain my composure.

You sing these things
so powerfully, so movingly,

yet you remain so serene yourself.

I come from an enlightened family.

When the phonograph appeared,
my father said,

"There's something to it, Marie."

And he was right:
there is something to it.

We are beset on all sides.

You will come to realise that.

Shall we go in to supper?

Baroness Instetten, née Briest.

Arrived safely.
Prince K. at station.

More enamoured of me than ever.

Many thanks for your hospitality.

Regards to the baron,
Marietta Trippelli.

"Three wise kings
came to Christ's door.

"One among them was a blackamoor.

"Today, a Moorish purveyor brings
all kinds of spiced and dainty things.

"Instead of myrrh and incense though,

"he brings morsels of almond
and pistachio."

To receive the respects
of a good person

is something special, agreeable.

Don't you think so, Geert?

I do indeed.

It is perhaps
the only true source of joy.

Or it should be at least.

But everyone is so wrapped up
in mundane things.

Including me.

In the end, though,
we are what we are.

All was still in the house.

"What I hinted at recently
has now been confirmed.

"Every day anew, Innstetten
expresses his joy at the news.

"I need not tell you,
how happy I am myself,

"since I shall have new life
and distraction about me,

"or, as Geert puts it,
'a precious toy'.

"Those are probably the right words,
but he shouldn't use them.

"They're like a stab in the heart
and remind me how young I am

"and that I'm scarcely
out of the nursery."

- Who was she?
- Registrar Rode's widow.

Strange, I always imagined
registrars' widows to be poor.

So they are as a rule.
She was an exception.

She was altogether
a very peculiar woman,

sickly and weak on her legs.

That's why she had a woman servant

strong enough to protect
and carry her if anything happened.

I've seen her: kind brown eyes
with a frank and honest look.

- But a bit simple.
- That's right.

To shake off her sense
of coldness and dullness,

she felt the desire
to go for a longer walk.

And her doctor had told her
that exercise in the fresh air

was the best thing
for her condition.

What is your name?

Roswitha.

That's an uncommon name.
It must be...

You're right, ma'am.
It's a Catholic name.

And I am a Catholic.

I'm from Eichsfeld.

Being Catholic makes things
even harder.

A lot of people
won't take Catholics

because they always run
to church to confess

but don't confess the main thing.

The times I've heard that!

I'm a bad Catholic.

I've completely lapsed.

Perhaps that's why things
have turned out badly for me.

You have to stick to your faith
and take part in everything.

I'd like to ask you something.
Are you fond of children?

Certainly.

It's terrible, the things you have to do
for old women like that.

But a dear little thing,

like a doll...that stares at you
with its little eyes,

that's something
to put joy in your heart.

You are a good, true soul.
I can see that.

Somewhat plainspoken,
but they're often the best people,

I felt at once I could trust you.

Would you like to work for me?

The baby will have to be nursed
and cared for,

perhaps even specially fed.

I sure I'm not mistaken in you.

You did quite right, Effi.

If there's nothing bad
in her serving record,

we'll take her
on the strength of her kind face.

One rarely goes wrong
with that, thank God!

All will be well now.

I'm no longer afraid.

On the morning of July 3,
a cradle stood next to Effi's bed.

Dr Hannemann patted
the young woman's hand and said,

"Today's the anniversary of Königgrätz.
Pity it's a girl!

"But next time may be different,

"and the Prussians have many
victories to celebrate."

She completely forgot
that she was married.

Those were happy hours.

But best of all

she liked to stand on the swing
and fly through the air,

with the feeling,
"I'm going to fall!",!

a strange, tingling sensation,
a sweet thrill of danger.

- Innstetten is a man of honour.
- He is indeed.

- And he loves me.
- Of course he does.

And where there's love,
it will be returned.

That's how things are.

I'm just surprised he hasn't taken
time off for a quick visit.

When one has such a young wife...

Innstetten is so conscientious
and wants to stand high in favour.

Kessin is just a stepping stone.
And anyway...

...I won't run away from him.

I belong to him.

If one is too affectionate
with such an age difference,

people just laugh.

Yes, they do, Effi.

But one has to live with that.

By the way,
don't mention it to anyone,

not even to your mother.

It's hard to know what to do.

And it's much too vast a subject.

Isn't that Crampas coming?

And from the beach?

Surely he hasn't been bathing
on September 27th!

He often does things like that.
Just showing off!

Good morning.
Come in!

Please forgive me

for not receiving you
with all due ceremony,

but 10:00 a.m. is an ungodly hour.

One is informal,
not to say familiar.

Take a seat...

...and tell us
what you have been up to.

Judging by your hair,

which I wish for your sake
you had more of,

you've been bathing.

It's going to be a wonderful winter...

...if we can count on your support.

Miss Trippelli is coming.

Trippelli?

- Then my presence is superfluous.
- By no means.

Trippelli can't sing the whole week.

It would be too much for her
and for us.

Variety is the spice of life,

a truth that every happy marriage
would seem to refute.

If there is such a thing
as a happy marriage, mine excepted.

How about hunting seals next time?

That's not possible:
the harbour police...

When I hear things like that!

Does everything have to be so legal?

Legality is boring.

Crampas, that's typical of you,
and Effi applauds you.

Women, of course,
are the first to cry for a policeman,

but the law doesn't interest them.

That has always been their privilege,
and we...can't change it, Innstetten.

No. And I don't want to.

I don't want to exculpate anyone.

But you, Crampas,

you have learned discipline
and know very well

that law and order are vital.

A man like you
really shouldn't talk like that,

not even in jest.

You have a sublime disregard
for these things.

"It won't be the end of the world,"
you think.

Not yet, perhaps,
but one day it will be.

The election campaign,
which began in October,

prevented Innstetten taking part
in further excursions.

Crampas and Effi
would have stopped, too,

in deference
to the people of Kessin,

if Kruse had not been present
as a kind of chaperon.

As it was, they continued
their rides into November.

A good conversationalist,

Crampas would tell stories
about war and his regiment

and anecdotes about Innstetten,

who, with his earnestness
and reserve,

had never fitted into
the spirited circle of his comrades,

so that he had been respected
rather than held in affection.

It's just as well
respect is the main thing.

He loved to tell us ghost stories.

And when he had got us all excited,
and had scared some people perhaps,

suddenly, it would seem as if he were
just making fun of our credulity.

Once I told him to his face,

"Innstetten, that's a load of poppycock!

"You don't believe it
any more than we do,

"but you want to make
yourself interesting.

"You think that being unusual
will help your career,

"that ordinary people
are not wanted at the top.

"And since that's your ambition,

"you've hit on something
out of the ordinary, namely ghosts."

You say nothing?

In all seriousness, Crampas,
and I should like a serious reply,

how do you explain all this?

My dear lady,

as well as furthering his career,
regardless of cost,

and with the aid
of a ghost if necessary,

Innstetten has another passion:

he has an urge to be didactic.

He's a born schoolmaster.

And he wants to educate me?

Education by means of ghosts?

"Educate" is perhaps the wrong word.

- But education in a roundabout way.
- I don't understand you.

A young wife...

...is a young wife...

...and a district councillor...

...has to travel around a lot.

Which means leaving
his house alone...

...and unguarded.

A ghost is like
an angel with a sword.

The fact that Innstetten
kept a ghost

so as not to live in
a commonplace house

might be accepted.

It met his need to distinguish
himself from the crowd.

But to use the ghost
as a means of education,

was mean,
almost insulting.

And she realised
that this "means of education"

was not even half the story.

What Crampas had implied
went much further.

An artifice calculated
to inspire fear.

Heine's writing pulses with life.

Above all, he understands love,
and that is the main thing.

But he's not one-sided in this.

- What do you mean?
- He's not just on the side of love.

Well, even if he were,

there are worse things.

- What else is he in favour of?
- He's a strong adherent of romance,

which comes close behind love.

Some people regard them as identical.

Major, please excuse my thumbs
when I give you the sandwiches.

As long as you don't give me
the thumbs down!

At Don Pedro's court, was a dark,
handsome Spanish knight

who wore the Cross of Calatrava
on his breast.

This knight, whom the queen
secretly loved, of course...

- Why, "of course"?
- Because we're in Spain.

Oh, I see.

This knight had a magnificent hound.

This had all been going on
for some time,

and the secret love affair
was no longer really a secret.

Unable to bear it anymore,

and because he didn't like
the Knight of Calatrava anyway,

the king was not only cruel,

but consumed by envy.

He decided to have the knight
secretly murdered

for his secret love.

I can't say I blame him.

Well, just listen to what follows!

In some ways, the king was right
but he went much too far.

Allegedly in honour of
the knight's heroic exploits,

he held a banquet.

And there was...

...a long table...

...at which all the grandees
of the empire sat,

with the king in the middle.

Opposite him was the place
for the guest of honour,

the Knight of Calatrava.

But he didn't appear, and finally
the feast had to begin without him.

There was an empty seat,

an empty seat
exactly opposite the king.

And then?

Just imagine:
as Don Pedro, the king,

was about to rise to express
his hypocritical regrets

that his "dear guest"
had not appeared,

cries of horror were heard
from the servants outside,

and before one knew
what had happened,

something raced along the table,

sprang onto the chair

and set a cut-off head
at the unoccupied place.

And over the head of the knight,
his hound stared

at the person opposite:
the king.

The dog had accompanied his master
on his final journey.

And at the moment
the axe descended,

the trusty animal
had seized the falling head.

There he was, our friend,

sitting at the banqueting table,
accusing the royal murderer.

Effi was content
and glad they had agreed

to discontinue their excursions
together for the rest of the winter.

When she considered what had
been discussed and intimated

during all those days and weeks,

she could find nothing that would
directly occasion self-reproach.

- Was it the major's plan?
- Yes. As you know,

he was elected unanimously
to the entertainments committee.

We can look forward to
a pleasant winter at the club.

He's ideal for the position.

And...

...will he be acting as well?

No. He declined to do that...

...unfortunately.

He could play Arthur von Schmettwitz
quite excellently.

He's just directing.

- All the worse.
- All the worse?

Oh, don't take me too seriously.

It's just a way of saying
the opposite, really.

On the other hand,

there's something forceful
about the major.

He likes doing things
over one's head.

One has to do things
the way he wants.

What pleased me most

was my charming little wife,
who turned all heads.

Don't talk like that!
I'm vain enough.

Vain enough perhaps,
but not nearly as vain as the others.

- And your seven beautiful attributes!
- Everyone has seven beautiful attributes.

A slip of the tongue.
Multiply that number by itself!

How gallant you are.

If I didn't know you,
I might be afraid of you.

- Or is there something else behind it?
- Do you have a guilty conscience?

Have you been eavesdropping?

No.

Sometimes one suddenly realises
what a treasure one has.

After all, you might be
someone like poor Frau Crampas.

A dreadful woman,
unfriendly to everyone.

She's a bit like our Frau Kruse.

I don't know whom I'd choose
between the two of them.

I know very well.
There is a difference between them:

the major's wife is unhappy,
Kruse's is uncanny.

And you're more in favour
of the unhappy?

Quite definitely.

He's half Polish.

The name alone: Crampas!

No reliability, not in anything.
Least of all with women.

A gambler,

not at the gaming table,

but constantly taking risks in life.

One has to keep an eye on him.

I'm glad you told me that.

I shall watch my step with him.

Yes, do that.

But not too much.
That's no use either.

Just behave naturally.
That's always best.

Best of all, of course,
is to be of steadfast character

and to have, if I may use such
a high-flown expression,

a pure soul.

No doubt, but say no more,

especially things
that don't make me happy.

I thought I heard
footsteps upstairs again.

Strange, they keep coming back.

And I thought you were joking.

I wouldn't say that, Effi.

But it makes no difference:
as long as one is upright,

one has nothing to fear.

An artifice calculated
to inspire fear.

If it goes on like this, we'll have
a cold winter and be snowed in.

There are worse things than that.

Being snowed in
evokes pleasant sensations,

such as protection and support.

That's new to me.

Associations are strange things.

They're based not only
on personal experience,

but on things one has heard
or just happens to know.

You're a well-read man, Major,

but there's one poem
I suspect you don't know.

It's called "God's Wall".

"God's Wall", a nice title.
What is it about?

It's a modest story and quite short.

In some war
there was a winter campaign

and a terrified old widow
prayed to God

to build a wall round her to protect her
from her country's enemies.

God let the house be buried in snow,
so that the enemy simply marched past.

Yes.

Effi...

She felt as
if she were about to faint.

- Did you sleep well?
- Yes.

You're fortunate.
I can't say the same for myself.

I dreamt your carriage
fell into the river

and Crampas was trying to save you.

I have to put it that way.
And he went down with you.

You speak so strangely, Geert.

There's a hidden reproach
in your words, and I sense why.

It irks you that Crampas came
and offered us his help.

- Us?
- Yes, us. You and me.

Have you forgotten:
the major helped at your request?

Why shouldn't I drive with him
in his carriage, then?

Where I come from,
one says it is wrong

to mistrust a gentleman.

- A gentleman!
- Isn't he one?

You yourself said how gallant he is:
a perfect cavalier.

Yes, he's gallant enough,
a perfect cavalier.

No doubt about it.
But a gentleman?

My dear Effi,
a gentleman is something different.

Do you see anything noble
about him? I don't.

It would seem
we're of the same opinion.

Anyway, as you remarked,
it's my fault.

I won't say it was a faux pas,
that's not the appropriate expression.

It was my fault.

And it won't happen again
if I can prevent it.

But you, too,

should be on your guard,
if you'll take my advice.

He's an unscrupulous man.

He has his own ideas about
young women. I know him of old.

I shall heed your words,

but I must say
I think you misjudge him.

I do not misjudge him.

- Perhaps me, then.
- Nor you, my dear Effi.

You're a delightful little woman,

but steadfastness
is not your strong point.

Not a day passed without
her taking the prescribed walk.

Roswitha,

I'm going down to the square
where the merry-go-round is.

I'll wait for you there.

The first day,
they met as arranged.

Usually, though, when Roswitha
reached merry-go-round,

nobody was there,

and when she entered the hall
at home again,

Effi would come toward her
and say,

"Where have you been, Roswitha?
I got back ages ago?"

It went on like this for weeks.

"Forgive my sudden departure, Innstetten.
It all happened so quickly.

"I shall try to spin it out.
It's good to get away for a while.

"My regards to your charming wife
and my benefactress.

"Major Crampas."

A good thing, too!

- What do you mean?
- That he's gone away.

He's always saying the same things.

When he comes back, at least
he'll have something new to talk about.

I must go away as well.
To Berlin.

Perhaps I can bring back
something new, too.

My Effi always likes
to hear something new.

She's bored in dear old Kessin.

I'll be away for about a week,
perhaps one day longer.

And don't be afraid.

It won't come back.

You know what I mean:
that thing upstairs.

Effi smiled to herself

and in her smile
was a hint of melancholy.

She recalled the day
Crampas had last told her

Innstetten was enacting a comedy
with the ghost and her fear.

"The born schoolmaster!"

But wasn't he right?
Wasn't the comedy justified?

Conflicting thoughts, good and evil,
went through her mind.

Three days later,
Innstetten left.

He said nothing about
his reasons for going to Berlin.

She gave up her walks
to the beach and the plantation

while Crampas was in Stettin.

But she resumed them
on his return.

Not even inclement weather
could deter her.

Either it was unrequited love,
or it might have been requited,

and the Chinaman couldn't bear

the thought that it was
suddenly all over.

The Chinese are human beings as well.
They feel everything just as we do.

Everything.

- I need the leather varnish.
- I'll bring it out to you, Kruse.

Everything as we do.

There's a time and place
for everything.

But that business with the Chinaman
is very strange.

It's a load of nonsense.

And instead of attending
to what's important,

my wife talks about things like that.

When I need a clean shirt,
there's a button missing.

Then there's the black chicken!

It doesn't even lay eggs.

And anyway,

how should it lay eggs?
It doesn't even get out.

You men are worse than one thinks.

I ought to take the brush
and paint your moustache.

Well, I could accept that
from you, Roswitha.

Roswitha!

I must remind you that
Kruse is a married man.

I know, ma'am.

One knows so many things
and behaves as if one didn't.

If you're reckoning on her illness,
you'll be disappointed.

Sick people live longest of all.

How was it the first time with you?

Is it something you can tell me?

Yes, I can tell you.

It was terrible,

and for that reason,

you can set your mind at rest
as far as Kruse is concerned.

When you've been through what
I've been through, you've had enough.

The next day, I always feel shattered.
And such terrible anxiety!

Tell me, then.
How was it?

I know from at home,
with women like you

it's always the same story.

Yes.

In the end,
it probably is always the same.

I don't want to pretend
my case was anything special.

Not in the least.

But when they accused me
to my face,

and I suddenly had to admit,
"Yes, it's true",

that was dreadful.

My mother wasn't too hard on me.

But my father, the village blacksmith,
was strict and terrible.

When he heard about it,

he went for me
with an iron bar from the fire.

He wanted to kill me.

I had a younger sister,

who used to point at me and say,
"Shame on you!"

When the child was due,
I went into a nearby barn

because I didn't dare
show my face at home.

Strangers found me half dead.

They carried me into the house
and put me to bed.

On the third day,
they took my child away,

and when I asked later
where it was,

they said it was in good hands.

Oh, ma'am,

may the Holy Virgin
protect you from such heartache!

The things you say!

I'm a married woman.

You shouldn't say things like that.

It's out of place.

It's unseemly.

Oh, ma'am.

Tell me,

how do you imagine a ministry?

A ministry?

That can mean two things.

It may mean clever, distinguished men
who govern the country,

or it could be a building,
a palazzo.

Would you like to live
in such a palazzo?

I mean in such a ministry?

Heavens above, Geert!
They haven't made you a minister?

Gieshübler said something of the kind.

And the prince is all-powerful.

He's done it at last...

...and I'm only 18!

No, Effi, not a minister.
We haven't come that far yet.

To tell the truth,
we won't even live in a ministry,

but I'll be going to one every day.

And you'll be the wife
of a leading official and live in Berlin.

Soon, you'll hardly remember
you once lived in Kessin

with only Gieshübler and the dunes
and the plantation for company.

Thank God!

Get up, Effi!
What's the matter?

What's the matter?

I thought you were happy here.

You say "Thank God!",
as if it had been an affliction here.

Was I the affliction?

Tell me!

How can you ask
such a thing, Geert?

Oh, ma'am,

Kessin is...

...all well and good,
but it's not Berlin.

Some days, you see no more
than half a dozen people.

And nothing but the dunes
and the sea out there,

rushing and surging.

But that's all there is.

Yes, you're right, Roswitha.

It rushes and surges,
but that's not life.

One has all kinds of foolish ideas.

You have to admit
that matter with Kruse was not right.

Yes, my dear Gieshübler,
but just for a moment.

I've come to say goodbye.

But my dear lady,
surely you'll be back.

I heard it was for just three
or four days.

Yes, I should return.

In a week at the latest,
I'm supposed to be back in Kessin.

But who knows if I shall return?

I don't have to tell you,
so many things can happen.

You want to say I'm too young,

but even young people die.

And if I lived to be a hundred,
I'd never forget you.

There were times
when I felt lonely here.

Sometimes my heart was heavy,
more than you can imagine.

I haven't always done
the right thing.

But whenever I saw you,
I felt better, a better person, too.

But my dear lady...

And I want to thank you for that.

Goodbye, my dear friend!

Give my regards to your friend,
Miss Trippelli.

I have thought of her a lot recently
and of Prince Kotschukoff.

It's a strange relationship.

Yet I can understand it.

Let me hear from you.

Or I shall write.

"I am leaving tomorrow by boat,
and this is a farewell note.

"Innstetten expects me back
in a few days, but I shall not return.

"You know why.

"It would have been better
if I had never seen this place.

"I beg you not to take this
as a reproach.

"It was all my fault.

"In view of your home life,

"your actions may be excusable,
but not mine.

"I bear a heavy burden of guilt,
but perhaps there's a way out.

"Being transferred from here
seems like a sign

"that I may still find mercy.

"Forget me.
Your Effi."

What a lovely place you have, Mama!

But what's wrong with your eyes?

In the carriage, all we talked about
was Innstetten and our career.

Far too much.
There must be an end to it.

Your eyes are more important to me.

In one respect,
they're unchanged:

they have the same old kindness
when you look at me.

You're so impetuous.
The same old Effi!

No, Mama.

Not the old Effi.

I wish I were.

Marriage changes a person.

Innstetten is impatient
for me to return.

To cut matters short,
I suggest we rent the apartment today,

and I'll go back tomorrow.

It's so hard to leave you.

- Which apartment will you take?
- The one in Keithstrasse,

which we both liked
from the very beginning.

It's probably not quite dried out yet,

but it's summer now,
which is some consolation.

If I feel a twinge of rheumatism,
there's always Hohen-Cremmen.

Don't tempt providence!

Suddenly one has rheumatism
without knowing why.

Dr Rummschüttel,
I don't know how to describe it.

It keeps changing.

At the moment,
it seems to have gone.

At first,
I thought it was rheumatism,

but now I think it might be neuralgia.

Very likely, my dear lady.

Rest and warmth
are the best thing.

And a little medicine,
nothing bad, will do the rest.

But no mental exertion,
no visits, no books.

- It's Scott.
- Oh, I've no objection to him.

Travel books are best.

I'll call again tomorrow.

The question of costs
has to be considered.

Our expenses will increase anyway.

Rummschütttel will have to be paid
if he remains our doctor.

He's a very pleasant old gentleman,

although medically,
he's not considered top rank.

His detractors call him a "ladies' doctor,"
but there's an element of praise in that.

A new era is dawning,
and I'm no longer afraid.

I shall try to be better
and comply more with your wishes.

How are Gieshübler
and all the others?

Who are "all the others"?
Crampas sends you his regards.

That's nice of him.

And Frau von Padden
sends her respects.

She said you are a charming woman,
but I should take good care of you.

And when I replied

you regarded me more as a teacher
than a husband,

she murmured,
almost absently,

"A little lamb,
white as the driven snow..."

Then she broke off.

Has Johanna ever shown you
her Chinaman?

Which one?

Ours, of course.

Before she left our old home,
she detached him from the chair

and put him in her purse.

When she changed a mark
for me recently, I saw it.

And...

...she admitted it
with embarrassment.

She told me that her sense
of being a stranger had gone

and that she was very glad.

Kessin wasn't the right place for her,
with its spooky house and the people.

Some were too pious,
others too pedestrian.

Since her move to Berlin,
she says she feels at home.

He's the best of husbands
a bit too old and too good for her.

But now the worst is over.

That was the expression she used,
and it rather surprised me.

Why? It may not be
the best of expressions, but...

There's something behind it,

which she wanted to allude to.

- You think so?
- Yes, Briest.

You think butter
wouldn't melt in her mouth.

But you're wrong.

She likes to drift with the current,

and if the current is good,
so is she.

Fighting and resistance
are not her strong points.

She recalled the day,

scarcely two years before,
when the visitor had come,

and she had climbed
the steps beside the bench.

And an hour later
she was betrothed.

Images of her life in Kessin
rose unbidden before her inward eye:

there was Crampas coming to greet her,
then Roswitha with the baby.

She took the child,
held her up and kissed her.

"That was the first day,
when everything had begun."

The nearby clock began to strike,
and Effi counted the strokes.

Ten.

"This time tomorrow,
I'll be in Berlin.

"It's our wedding anniversary.

"He'll say nice things,
an affectionate word perhaps,

"and I shall sit and listen
with guilt weighing on my soul.

"Yes, it is there,

"but does it weigh on my soul?
No, it doesn't,

"and that's what
frightens me about myself.

"What weighs on me
is something different:

"fear, a mortal dread
that all will be discovered.

"And on top of the fear,
I feel ashamed.

"But I don't feel true repentance.
Nor do I feel true shame.

"I'm tormented by fear
and ashamed or the whole web of lies.

"But I feel no shame for my guilt,
or not properly and not enough,

"and that is what's destroying me.

"If women are like that,
it's terrible!

"And if they're not, as I hope,
things are ill with me.

"Then somethings wrong
with my soul.

"I lack the right sentiments.

"Old Niemeyer once said to me
when I was only a child

"that it's important to have
the right sentiments.

"If one had them,
one would be spared the worst.

"If one didn't have them,
one lived in constant danger

"and what people call 'the devil'
would have you in his power.

"Merciful God,
is that how I am?"

She laid her head on her arms
and wept bitterly.

I thought you might
not keep your word.

Really, Geert!
That's the least I can do.

Don't say that.
It's not always easy.

Sometimes one can't.
Just think back.

I was expecting you back in Kessin,
after you'd rented the apartment,

and who didn't come? Effi.

That was something different.

Our life in Berlin
is just beginning, Effi.

In April, when we moved in,
the season was coming to an end.

We hardly had time
to pay our calls.

And Wüllersdorf,

the only person we know better,
is a bachelor unfortunately.

From June onward,
everything's dead.

The lowered shutters
tell you everything:

everyone's gone.

Regardless whether it's true or not.

So what was left?

A chat with cousin Briest,
dinner at Hiller's...

That's not real Berlin life.

But now things will change.

I've noted the names of all top officials
who are active enough to entertain.

We shall entertain, too,

and when winter comes
the whole ministry should be saying,

"The most charming woman
in our circle...

"...is the wife of Innstetten."

Oh, Geert,
I hardly know you like this.

You're talking like a ladies' man.

It's our wedding anniversary.

You must allow me that.

First and foremost, Crampas...

Major Crampas,
quite the beau,

and something of a Barbarossa,
to whom my wife,

understandably or not,

had taken a liking.

Let's say "understandably,"

because I assume he was chairman
of the club and playing a role:

the lover or bon vivant.

Perhaps something even grander.

He may have been a tenor, too.

A second year passed, and when
a new foundation was established,

the empress chose
the "privy councillor's wife"

as a lady-in-waiting.

At the court ball, the old Kaiser
addressed appreciative words

to the lovely young woman,
of whom he had heard so much.

Well then,

Schwalbach to begin with.
Let's say. . .three weeks.

Then the same length of time in Ems.

During the cure in Ems,
your husband may join you.

In other words
three weeks' separation.

That's the best
I can do for you, Innstetten.

Tell me, Roswitha,

you're a Catholic.

Don't you ever go to confession?

No.

Why not?

I used to go.

But I didn't confess
the important things.

Didn't you ever feel it a relief
to be able to unburden your soul?

No, ma'am.

I was afraid

when my father went for me
with the red-hot iron.

Yes...

I was scared to death,

but it wasn't more than that.

- You have no fear of God?
- No, ma'am.

If you feared your father
as much I did,

you wouldn't be so afraid of God.

I always thought God was good
and would help a poor creature like me.

Let's see who gets up the stairs first.

It's nothing, sir.
Annie fell on the stairs.

There, there!

Where were the letters?

Right at the bottom, sir.

Johanna, bring me a cup of coffee!

Frau von Innstetten.

"Come to the dunes again
this afternoon.

"We can talk
at Frau Adermann's place.

"The house is isolated enough.

"Stop worrying about everything.
We have our rights, too.

"Get that into your head,
and you will cease to be afraid.

Life wouldn't be worth living

"if all the random rules
had to be observed.

"The finest things lie beyond them.
Learn to delight in these things.

My dearest Effi,
be at the usual place again today.

I have asked you to come
for two reasons.

To issue a challenge on my behalf
and to act as my second in the duel.

The first is not agreeable,
the second even less so.

And what is your answer?

You know I am at your service.

But before I know more,
forgive a naive question.

Does it have to be?

We're both too old:
you to take a pistol in the hand,

and I to assist you in the deed.

Don't misunderstand me.
That doesn't mean I'm saying no.

How could I refuse you anything?

But tell me what it's all about?

It concerns a suitor of my wife,

who was also a friend of mine,
or almost.

That's impossible!

It's not only possible, it's a fact.

Read these!

- Addressed to your wife?
- I found them in her sewing table.

- And who wrote them?
- Major Crampas.

Then these things happened
when you were still in Kessin...

...six or more years ago?
-Yes.

It seems almost, Wüllersdorf,

as if those six or seven years
make you think differently.

There is a theory of limitations,
of course,

but I'm not sure this is a case
where that theory can be applied.

I don't know either.

But everything would seem
to turn on that question.

Are you serious?

Absolutely serious.

It's not a matter of jeu d'esprit,
or for sophistry.

What do you mean by that?

Tell me frankly.
How do you see the matter?

You're in a terrible situation.
Your happiness is destroyed.

But if you kill the lover,
your happiness will be doubly destroyed.

The pain you have suffered

will be compounded
by the pain you have caused.

It all turns on the question:
do you have to do it?

Do you feel so injured,
insulted, incensed,

that one of you must die,
he or you?

Is that the position?

- I don't know.
- You have to know.

No, that's not how it is.

How is it then?

The thing is...
I'm desperately unhappy.

I've been injured
and shamefully deceived.

Nevertheless,

I harbour no feelings of hatred.
I don't even thirst for revenge.

And if I ask myself why not,

all I can say is:
the time that has passed.

People always talk about
inexpiable guilt.

In God's eyes, that is wrong,
and in man's eyes, too.

I would never have believed
that time could have such an effect.

What is more,
I love my wife.

Strange as it may seem,
I still love her

and however terrible
I find these things,

I am so captivated
by her good nature

and her own serene charm

that, in spite of myself,
in my heart of hearts,

I'm inclined to forgive her.

Can understand you entirely.
Might feel the same way myself.

But if that's how you feel,
and you say,

"I love this woman so much
I can forgive everything,"

and if one considers
that this happened long, long ago,

like something on a distant star,

if that's the case, Innstetten,
I ask you:

does it have to be?

What's the good of it?

It has to be done.
I've looked at it all ways.

One does not live alone.
One is part of a larger whole,

and we always have
to bear the whole in mind.

We are entirely dependent on it.

If I lived in isolation,
I could drop the matter.

I would bear the burden
assigned to me.

My happiness would be over, but...

...so many have to live
without happiness,

and I would have to as well
and I could.

One does not have to be happy.

Least of all,
one has a right to be.

One wouldn't need to remove
from the world the person

who has robbed us
of our happiness.

One could also let him go free,
if one turned one's back on the world.

But...in living together in society,
a certain something has evolved.

It simply exists,

and we're accustomed to judging
everything by its rules:

others...and ourselves.

One cannot contravene them,
without society despising us.

We would come
to despise ourselves, too,

and ultimately blow our brains out.

Forgive my holding forth like this
and merely saying

what everyone has said to himself
a hundred times.

But then,
who can really say anything new?

I repeat,

it's not a matter of hatred
or personal happiness.

That tyrannical social element

is not concerned
with charm or love

or the lapse of time.

I have no choice.
I simply have to.

I'm not so sure, Innstetten.

You must decide, Wüllersdorf.

It's ten o'clock now.

Six hours ago, I admit,
I still had a free hand.

There was still a way out.

But not any longer.
I'm in a blind alley.

I've only myself to blame,
you might say.

I should have been more on my guard,
kept everything to myself,

fought it out in my own heart.

But it all came too suddenly
for me to give myself the blame

for not having kept
my nerves under control.

I went to your place
and wrote you a note,

and in doing so,
relinquished control.

From that moment,

someone else was half-aware
of my misfortune,

and, more importantly,
of the stain on my honour.

And with this discussion,
that person is now fully aware.

And since there is such a person,
there's no going back.

I wouldn't say that.

I don't like using trite phrases,

but I know no better way
of putting it:

I'll be as silent as the grave.

That's what people always say.
But there's no such thing as secrecy.

You may be the soul of discretion,
but you know about it,

and the fact
that you express your consent

and understanding
does not save me from you.

I am and I remain,

from this moment on,
an object of your sympathy.

Every word you hear me say to my wife
is subject to your control.

If my wife talks about being faithful

or, as women do,
sits in judgement over others,

I shan't know where to look.

Or suppose I urge

reconciliation in some
everyday affair of honour

because no ill intent is involved.

A smile will cross your face,
or it will twitch, at least,

and in your heart you'll say,
"Good old Innstetten,

"has a passion for analysing
the chemical content of all insults,

"but he never finds the precise amount
of poison they contain.

"He can swallow anything."

Am I right, or not?

It's a terrible thought,
but you're right.

I'll stop asking
"Does it have to be?"

The world is as it is.

Things don't work out as we
want them to, but as others want.

All that talk about divine punishment
is nonsense, of course.

On the contrary,
our cult of honour is idolatry,

but we have to submit to it,
as long as the idol stands.

Crampas wishes
to speak with you, Innstetten.

Grant him his wish.
He has only a few minutes to live.

Will you...

Guilt demands expiation,
there is a logic to that.

But the idea of a time limitation
is a terrible half-measure.

- How is Annie?
- She's well, sir.

- She's not asleep if you...
- No, that'll only excite her.

- Who was here?
- Only the doctor.

"Arrived back this morning.

"Many experiences,
both painful and touching:

"above all Gieshübler.
The nicest hunchback I've ever met.

"He didn't speak much of you.
But your wife, your wife!

"He was inconsolable.
Finally, he burst into tears.

"The things that happen!

"There should be
more people like Gieshübler.

"Then the scene in the major's house!
Dreadful!

"Enough said.
One is on one's guard again.

"I'll see you tomorrow.
Yours, W."

Another thing, Johanna...

...my wife will not be coming back.

You will find out why from others.

Annie should not be told.
Not yet, at least, poor child!

Break it to her gradually
that she has no mother.

I can't do it.
Do it properly,

and make sure Roswitha
doesn't ruin everything!

Back in the kitchen,

she felt a sense of pride
and superiority, almost happiness.

Not only had her master
confided in her,

he had told her to make sure
Roswitha didn't ruin everything.

That was the main thing.
Although she had a good heart

and felt sympathy
for her mistress,

what most moved her
was the sense of triumph

at enjoying a certain intimacy
with her master.

We are informed

that yesterday morning in Kessin,
Eastern Pomerania,

a duel took place between
councillor von I. and Major von Crampas.

The major was killed.

A relationship had allegedly
existed between him

and the privy councillor's
beautiful young wife.

The things these papers write!

Yes, and people read it

and say nasty things
about my mistress.

And the poor major's dead, too.

- Should the master be dead instead?
- No, Johanna.

Our master should live.
Everyone should live.

But don't forget,
it all happened so long ago.

The letters are yellow with age.

- How can anyone dig up...
- That's how you see it, Roswitha.

"As for your future, my dear Effi,
you are on your own now.

"You may count on
some material support from us.

"Live in Berlin,
where you'll be one of the many

"who have deprived themselves
of air and sunlight.

"It will be a lonely life if you don't
want to descend below your class.

"Your former world
will be closed to you.

"The saddest thing for all of us
is that you will also be excluded

"from your parental home.

"We cannot offer you a refuge
in Hohen-Cremmen,

"for that would mean
cutting ourselves off from the world,

"which we are not prepared to do.

"Not because we couldn't bear to bid
farewell to what one calls 'society.'

"No, that's not the reason.

"But we have to make our position clear
and show the world

"that we condemn your actions:

"the actions of our
one and only daughter,

"whom we love so dearly."

After receiving her parents' letter
of refusal

and taking the train back to Berlin,

Effi did not at first move
into an apartment of her own.

She sought lodgings
in a boarding house

with reasonable success.

Do you remember how Gieshübler came
and had to join us at table

and said he'd never eaten
anything so delicious?

He was always so well-mannered.

In fact, he was the only person
who knew anything about food.

The others said everything was nice.

Have you thought it over?

You've had it good all these years.

There was always enough.

We never had to think about saving.

But now I have to economise.

I am poor.

All I have is what I receive
from Hohen-Cremmen.

My parents are very good to me,

as far as their means allow,

but they're not wealthy.

What do you say?

May I move in next Saturday
with my suitcase?

Not in the evening.

In the morning, so as to be here
when you arrange the household.

I'm more robust
than you are, ma'am.

Don't say that, Roswitha.
I can do it.

One can do anything if one has to.

And you needn't worry about me.

As if I could ever think,
"That's not good enough for Roswitha."

For Roswitha, everything is good
that she can share with you,

and most of all the sad things.

Everything went well until Christmas.

But Christmas Eve was a sad occasion,
and as New Year's grew near

Effi began to feel very melancholic.

One day, coming from her
painting lessons near the zoo,

she got on a horse-drawn tram
passing along Kurfürstenstrasse.

It was very hot,

and the curtains, flapping to and fro
and billowing in the breeze,

refreshed her.

She leaned back in the corner

and looked at the sofas enamelled
on a pane of glass:

blue, with bobs and tassels.

The tram was moving slowly,
when three school girls

with satchels
and little pointed hats jumped on.

Two of them were
fair-haired and lively.

The third was dark and serious.
It was Annie.

Effi started.
The thought of a meeting with her child,

which she had long desired,

now filled her with mortal fear.
What should she do?

She opened the door
to the front platform,

where only the driver stood,
and asked him

to let her get off at the front.

"Not allowed, miss."
The driver said,

but she gave him a coin
and such a pleading look

that the good-hearted man
relented and muttered,

"Shouldn't really,
but all right, just this once."

And he removed the grating,
and Effi jumped down.

She's half one and half the other.

In her prettiness,
her specialness,

she takes after her mother

but she has her seriousness
from her father.

All things considered,
she's probably more like the master.

Thank goodness!

Well, ma'am, that's the question.

Many would be
more in favour of the mother.

You think so, Roswitha?

I don't.

You can't pull the wool over my eyes,

and I think my mistress knows
the truth of the matter

and what men really want.

Let's not talk about that, Roswitha!

Effi was oppressed by the notion
of having run away from her own child.

"I'm delighted to be able
to tell you the good news.

"It worked out as we hoped.

"Your husband is a man of the world
and would not refuse a lady's request.

"At the same time,
I should not conceal the fact from you:

"his consent was evidently
not in accordance

"with what he considered
wise and proper.

"But let's not find fault
when we should be rejoicing.

"It was agreed that your Annie
should visit you at lunch time.

"May your reunion
stand under a lucky star."

One makes the bed one lies on,
and I wish to change nothing in my life.

It is right as it is.
It was my own doing.

But the situation with
my child is too hard.

I wish to see her from time to time,
not furtively or in secret,

but with the consent
of all those concerned.

Annie, darling, how glad I am.

Come and tell me about yourself!

How you've grown!

And that's the scar?

Roswitha told me about it.

You were always so wild
when you played.

You take after your mother in that.
She was just the same.

How are things at school?

You look as if you were
always first in your class,

a model pupil
who always has the best grades.

- What are you best at?
- I don't know.

Oh, you must know.
Everyone knows that.

What do you get the best marks in?

- In religious instruction.
- There, you see. You do know.

That's good.

I wasn't so good at that,

but that may have been the teacher.
We only had an ordinand.

We had an ordinand, too.

Has he left now?
Why did he leave?

I don't know.
We have the preacher again now.

Whom you all like?

Yes. Two girls in the first class
want to convert.

I see. That's good.

- And how is Johanna?
- Johanna brought me here.

I shouldn't keep her waiting too long.

You're very considerate,
and I suppose I should be glad.

It's all a matter
of apportioning things.

Now tell me how Rollo is.

Rollo's very well.
But Papa says he's getting lazy...

...always lying in the sun.
- I can believe it.

He was like that
when you were very young.

Tell me, Annie...

...will you come and see me often?
- Certainly, if I may.

We could go for a stroll
in Prince Albert Gardens.

Certainly, if I may.

Or go to Schilling's
and eat ice cream.

Pineapple and vanilla
were your favourites.

Certainly, if I may.

I think it's time for you to go.
Johanna will be getting impatient.

Roswitha, go with Annie
as far as the church!

Johanna's waiting there.

Let's hope she hasn't caught cold.

Give my regards to Johanna.

Oh, God in heaven,
forgive me for what I've done!

I was a child.

No, I wasn't a child anymore.

I was old enough
to know what I was doing.

I don't want to diminish my guilt.

But this is too much!

What is happening with the child?

Is not You, God, punishing me.
It is he...

...and he alone.

And I thought he had a noble heart!

I always felt small beside him.

But now I know it's he...

...who is small and petty.

And because he's petty, he's cruel.

Everything that's petty is cruel.

He taught the child
to behave like that.

He was always a schoolmaster.

That's what Crampas called him,

sarcastically perhaps,
but he was right.

"Certainly, if I may."

You don't have to ask
if you "may" anymore.

I don't want either of you.

I hate you both,
even my own child.

Too much is too much!

He was ambitious
and that was all.

Honour, honour, honour

and then he shoots the poor man dead,
whom I didn't even love.

Nothing but stupidity

and then blood

and murder.

And I'm to blame.

Now he sends me my child

because he can't refuse
a minister's wife.

But before he sends her
he trains her to answer like a parrot

and teaches her to say, "If I may."

What I did disgusts me,

but your virtuousness
disgusts me even more.

Be gone the pair of you!

I have to go on living...

...but it won't be forever.

Ma'am!

When Rummschütttel was called,

he was concerned
about Effi's condition.

The hectic state
he had observed for some time

seemed more pronounced
than before.

"But it must be at Hohen-Cremmen.

"To regain her health, your daughter
needs more than just a change of air.

"She's pining away:
all she has is Roswitha.

"Loyal service is good,
but parental love is better.

"Forgive an old man
interfering in matters

"that are no concern or a doctor.

"And yet, it is as a doctor
that I write to you,

"and make these demands
out of a sense of duty.

"I've seen so much of life..."

I love her at least as much as you do.

Each in his own way.

But we're not here just to be kind
and understanding

towards things that are against
laws and commandments

and that society condemns,
and rightly condemns at present.

One thing counts above all else.

Of course one thing really counts,
but what is it?

The love of parents for their children.
Even if there's only one.

Then that's the end
of...catechism...

...and morality...

...and the claims of society?

- It's hard to get along without society.
- Without one's child, too.

Imperial Telegram Office.
"Effi, come to us!"

It was determined that Annie
would inherit Hohen-Cremmen.

Effi's spirits revived, and her mother,
who was not averse

to regarding the matter as an interesting,
but painful, incident,

vied with her husband in showering love
and attention on their daughter.

It is strange,

but many things in my life
might aptly be described

with the word "almost".

Pastor Niemeyer!

Effi! You're the same as ever!

No, no.

That all belongs to the past.

I just wanted to try it out once more.

How wonderful it was!

How stimulating the air!

It was like flying up to heaven.

Shall I ever go there?

Tell me, dear friend.
You should know.

- Please!
- Yes, Effi.

You will.

Imperial Office of the Interior

Dear Innstetten,
I have the pleasure of informing you

that His Majesty has consented
to your appointment.

My sincere congratulations.

"I'm afraid, Roswitha,
because I'm all alone here.

"But who should accompany me?
Rollo? Yes.

"He bears me no grudge.
That's the good thing about animals."

"Those were my mistress's words.
I'll say no more.

"Please remember me to little Annie
and to Johanna as well.

"Your obedient servant,
Roswitha Gellenhagen."

We could learn something from her.

I think so, too.

That's why everything else
seems so questionable to you.

It's been on my mind a long time,
and these simple words,

with their conscious

or perhaps unconscious
hint of accusation,

have completely unsettled me.

It's been tormenting me
for some time.

I want to free myself
of this whole business.

Nothing gives me pleasure anymore.

The more distinctions I gain,
the more meaningless it all seems.

I've messed up my life.

May was lovely.
June even lovelier.

Once Effi had overcome the heartache,
Rollo's arrival aroused in her.

She was delighted to have
the faithful creature with her again.

Roswitha was praised,

and Briest expressed to his wife
his respect for Innstetten,

who was a perfect gentleman,
not petty,

and whose heart
was in the right place.

"A pity that stupid affair
had to happen!

"They were the perfect couple.“

What a glorious summer.

I should never have thought
a year ago that I could be so happy.

Just get well again!

Happiness will come:
not past happiness, but a new one.

There are many types of happiness.
You'll see, we'll find something for you.

The summer passed,

and the nights
with shooting stars were over.

On these nights,
Effi had sat long at her window,

never tired of watching.

"I never was a very good Christian,
but perhaps we do come from up there,

"and when it's all over here,
we'll return to our heavenly home,

"to the stars up there, or beyond.

"I don't know,
and I don't want to know.

"I simply feel a longing."

You wanted to tell me something.

Yes, because you spoke
of my being still very young.

Of course I'm young.
But that makes no difference.

In happier days, Innstetten would
read to me in the evening.

He had some fine books

and in one of them
there was the story

of a man being called away
from a festive table.

On the following day,
the man asked

what had happened after he'd left.

He received the reply,

"Oh, all sorts of things,
but you didn't really miss anything."

You see, Mama,
those words stuck in my mind:

it doesn't matter if one's called away
from the table earlier than others.

And since I mentioned
old times and Innstetten,

I must tell you something else.

You're exciting yourself, Effi.

No. Getting something off one's mind
doesn't excite one. It's calming.

I wanted to tell you, Mama,

I shall die reconciled
with God and mankind,

and with him, too.

Did you feel such bitterness
in your heart towards him?

In a way,
forgive my saying this now,

you really brought
these sorrows on yourself.

Yes, sadly enough.

But when misfortune befell me

and finally there was
that business with Annie,

then, if I may use
the absurd expression,

I simply turned the tables

and convinced myself
he was to blame,

because he was sober and calculating
and cruel, too, in the end.

I cursed him.

And now it weighs on your conscience?

Yes, and I want him to know

that during the days I've been ill,

which have been almost
the loveliest days of my life,

I've come to see

that he was right in everything.

In the matter concerning
poor Major Crampas:

what else could he have done?

The thing with which he hurt me most

was the way he raised
my own child against me.

But as much as it grieves me,
as hard as it affects me,

he was right in that, too.

Let him know I died convinced of that.

It will console him, give him new heart,
reconcile him perhaps.

For there was a lot of good
in his nature,

and he was as fine a man
as anyone can be

who doesn't know true love.

A small change had occurred
in the circular flowerbed.

The sundial was gone,
and its place had been taken

by a white marble slab,

which bore only the words
"Effi Briest"

with a cross beneath.
That was Effi's last request,

"I'd like to have
my old name on my gravestone.

"I did no honour to my other name."
And her request was granted.

Look, Briest,
Rollo's lying by the stone again.

It has affected him
more deeply than us.

He won't eat a thing.

Yes, Luise, these creatures!

That's what I always say,

we're not as remarkable
as we think.

We talk about instinct,

and in the end,
it's the best thing.

Not a day has passed,
since she was buried there,

- ...without these questions arising.
- What questions?

- Whether we're not perhaps to blame?
- Nonsense, Luise!

What do you mean?

Whether we shouldn't
have been stricter with her.

We most of all.

Niemeyer is useless really,
because he casts doubt on everything.

And then, Briest,
I'm sorry to have to say it:

your constant equivocation.

Finally, I ask myself,

since I don't wish to remain
blameless in this matter,

whether she wasn't perhaps too young?

Oh, Luise, don't go on.

That's much too vast a subject.