All language subtitles for The.Browning.Version.1951.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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And here, sir,
is Bishop Walter's gatehouse...

part of the second foundation,
built in 1351 of local limestone.

Yes. Very interesting.

The chapel's through here, sir,
if you care to go in.

Isn't there a service on?

Not a service, sir.
Merely morning prayers.

Oh.

Mr. Gilbert, a new master
for next term, looking round.

May not fear the power
of any adversaries...

through the might
of Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Amen.

Did the Crock see me?

Don't think so.

I have one or two
announcements to make...

regarding the program for tomorrow.

The headmaster.

Prize giving will be at 9:50 a.m.

That is to say,
immediately after tomorrow's chapel.

The concert will therefore
take place in the evening.

This change from the usual procedure...

is to enable Mr. Fletcher...

whose imminent departure
from this school...

I know each of you will feel
as a personal loss-

to enable Mr. Fletcher
to reach London...

in time to play cricket
for England against Australia.

You will all of you, I know,
be conscious...

of the honor that this choice
has done to the school.

I have, most unfortunately...

another item
of sad news for you.

You will all, I know,
be most grieved...

that persistent ill health
has forced the resignation...

of Mr. Crocker-Harris.

He is leaving us to take up a post at, uh -

at another school, and he will,
I know, carry with him...

after so many years at this school...

your sad but most heartfelt
good wishes.

So, of course, will his wife...

who has endeared herself
so much to all of us.

During the hymn,
the usual end-of-term collection...

will be made on behalf
of the school mission.

Hymn number 577:

"Lord, Dismiss Us with Thy Blessing."

♪ Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing ♪

♪ Thanks for mercies past received ♪

♪ Pardon all, their faults confessing ♪

♪ Time that's lost may all retrieve ♪

♪ May thy children ♪

♪ May thy children ♪

♪ Ne'er again thy Spirit grieve ♪♪

Down for the cricket?

No, I'm just having a look round.
I'm joining the staff next term.

- Oh, really? What class?
- The lower fifth, I believe.

Oh.

I suppose I'm rather lucky to have got
so comparably high a class straight off.

My husband got it straight off, too,
only he stayed with it for 18 years.

- You just want me to blow myself up.
- Hello, Frank.

- Good morning.
- Oh, please do, sir.

Wants me to experiment and disintegrate
myself to make a Roman holiday.

Well, I'll think about it.
Go on. Get along.

Can you come for a drink
about 12:00 this morning?

- I don't know. That's a bit difficult.
- You can manage a minute, surely.

Well, I'll try.

Ah, Mrs. Crocker-Harris.
I hope you'll forgive me...

if I compliment you upon the regularity
of your attendance at morning prayers.

Very good of you, Headmaster.

I always feel it makes
a good start to the day.

But today of all days, when you've got
so much to get through-most commendable.

By the way, how is your poor husband?
Bearing up, I hope?

- Yes, thank you. Bearing up.
- Mm-hmm.

A sad blow it is.
A sad blow.

What have you done with our new master?
I saw you sitting next to him in chapel.

- He's over there.
- So he is. Perhaps you'll forgive me.

Come along, Hunter.
You must meet him.

I'll try and make 12:00.

These are what we call
the West Cloisters.

Most of our classrooms
are in this part of the building.

And this, unless my ears deceive me...

is the science upper fifth,
where Hunter manufactures...

the nauseous odors of his
perverted branch of learning.

How much more perverted, sir, than, say,
certain passages of the Greek anthology?

Unworthy, Hunter.

A good dose of the classics
might still save you scientists...

from destroying this pleasant
little planet of ours.

I'm sorry, sir.
I'll see you later, Gilbert.

- Bad, that.
- What was that, sir?

- The noise in his classroom.
- Oh.

A good chap, Hunter, in many ways,
but no sense of discipline...

and, of course, like all scientists,
a trifle narrow-minded.

Now this will be your classroom,
Gilbert, the lower fifth.

Come in.

- Mr. Crocker-Harris not here yet?
- No, sir. Six minutes to go yet, sir.

So prodigious is your predecessor's
sense of punctuality...

that the boys have been known to set
their watches by his comings and goings.

- Isn't that so, boys?
- Yes, sir.

Well, Fortescue,
and how's your dear mother?

Fairly well, thank you, sir.
My name's Wilson, sir.

Quite, but your mother's well
just the same?

- Yes, sir.
- Splendid.

Now, boys, this is your new master,
Mr. Gilbert.

I trust that those of you who remain
in this class next term...

will be as well-behaved with him as
I know you've been with Mr. Crocker-Harris.

Well, now, you might like to sit in
during this period...

and watch your future pupils
in action, hmm?

- Yes-
- Crocker-Harris won't mind, I'm sure.

- If I see him, I'll warn him.
- Thank you, sir.

Now, boys, pay no attention
whatever to Mr. Gilbert.

He can't very well report your misdoings
to me till next term, remember.

Anyway, it'll be a change
from the Crock.

Yes, he doesn't look too bad.

When I ignite the nitric oxide
and carbon disulfide...

you will see what we call
a graded explosion...

which is a flash that passes
along this tube,

ending in a loud bang there.

Now stand back.
This should be pretty good.

Well, it can't work every time.
Must be the damp in the atmosphere.

Sir, could it be the wrong proportion?

No, it certainly couldn't.
Who are you? I don't recognize you.

- Taplow, sir.
- You're not in my class, are you?

- No, sir. Lower fifth.
- Then what on earth are you doing here?

I'm going to be in your class
next term, sir.

That is, if I get my promotion.

Well, go away.
This is this term, not next term.

Oh, it's all right, sir.
We don't start until 10:00.

Go away.

I'll not have my budding Einsteins perverted
by immature, as yet unpromoted classicists.

Sorry, sir. It's only that
I wanted to see the experiment.

- Well, you've seen it now, haven't you?
- Not yet, sir.

Too bad. Out.

Yes, sir.

You know, sir, when I do that experiment,
I don't use quite the same proportions.

Oh, you don't.

Shall I tell you something, Taplow?

You know, I rather hope you don't get your
promotion from the lower fifth next term.

Incidentally, why don't you know yet
whether you've got it or not?

Oh, Mr. Crocker-Harris doesn't
tell us the results like the other masters.

- Why on earth not?
- Well, you know what he's like, sir.

There is a rule, I believe,
that promotions...

shall only be announced to the parents
by the headmaster in school report.

Yes, but who else pays any attention
to it except the Crock?

Except Mr. Crocker-Harris.

Except Mr. Crocker-Harris.
Do you, sir?

Taplow, you leave this room
with your life, and that is all. Good-bye.

Good-bye, sir.

And now, gentlemen,
despite the interruption by the small boy...

we shall continue
with the experiment...

using precisely the same proportions
as I used before.

He'll recover in the holidays,

and he'll be back again
next term, sure as fate.

- They'll give him penicillin.
- Wonder what's the matter with him.

- Stomach ulcers?
- Heart.

- How do you know?
- I go to his home for extra work.

I've seen the medicines.

What's so funny?

The idea of the Crock having
a heart at all.

- I see what you mean.
- I say, do you think he's dying?

Heart trouble is
nearly always fatal, isn't it?

I mean, in plays and films,
people are always saying...

"The old ticker's
a bit dicky, you know."

They always die in the end.

I say, supposing he dies in the class...

right in front of us.

You sadistic little brute.

What's sadistic?

- Well, the Crock is.
- I don't agree.

He's not like Makepeace or Sanders.

They get a kick
out of twisting ears, et cetera.

I don't think the Crock
gets a kick out of anything.

In fact, I don't think
he has any feelings at all.

He's just dead, that's all.

That is a physiological
and psychological impossibility.

All right. Then the Crock's different.

He can't hate people,
and he can't like people.

And what's more,
he doesn't like people to like him.

- He doesn't have to worry much about that.
- Oh, I don't know.

If he'd give me the chance,
I think I'd quite like him.

What?

I'd feel sorry for him, which is
more or less the same thing, isn't it?

Sorry? Sorry for the Crock?

- Wilson.
- Sir?

You were late
for chapel this morning.

I have therefore
submitted your name as an absentee.

I wasn't really late, sir.
Only a few seconds, sir.

I was in the library,
and you can't hear the bell.

You will no doubt recount those excuses
to your housemaster, Wilson.

I fear I am not interested in them.

These are your Latin verses.

Only one boy's version-

Bryant's - had any merit...

and that somewhat doubtful.

The rest were mainly abominable.

One boy - Mason-

produced the most melancholy
dissonance...

that I have experienced
in all my 18years with this class.

It seems to me that the best way
of employing the period...

would be for you all
to attempt the verses again.

The passage for translation,
if you remember-

The passage for translation...

is the first three stanzas
of Tennyson's "The Lady of Shalott"...

which you will find on page 821...

of your Oxford Book of English Verse.

And if, in the throes of composition...

you should find the disturbance
from the science upper fifth distracting...

you may, as good classicists...

console yourself with the thought that-

to amend an aphorism -

Scientia est celare scientiam.

Taplow.

Sir?

You laughed
at my little epigram, I noticed.

Yes, sir.

I must confess I am flattered at the
evident advance your Latin has made...

that you should so readily have understood
what the rest of the class did not.

Perhaps now you will be
good enough to explain it to them...

so that they, too,
may share your pleasure.

I -

Come along, Taplow. Do not be so selfish
as to keep a good joke to yourself.

Tell the others.

I didn't hear it properly, sir.

You didn't hear it?

They why, may I ask,
did you laugh?

Why did you laugh
at what you did not hear?

Politeness, sir.

Toujours la politesse.

I am touched, Taplow.

May I go back to my seat now, sir?

You may.

- And Taplow.
- Sir?

If you should really wish
to show me politeness...

you will do so by composing
verses less appalling...

than the ones
I corrected this morning.

Yes, sir.

Sorry for him now?

Better luck this time, sir.

There. I told you it would work this time.

Shut up. You'll get me sacked.

What on earth can I do with you
for the last 10 minutes?

- Why have the last 10 minutes, sir?
- Hear! Hear!

All right, you lazy little hounds.
Go on. Beat it.

And for heaven's sake,
don't make a racket.

You'll disturb Mr. Crocker-Harris.

It lacks nine and a half minutes
of 11:00, Wilson.

If you are worried that
you will not manage

to complete your exercise
in the time remaining...

I am perfectly prepared
to wait until you do.

Yes, sir, but it'll be all right,
thank you, sir.

Does not your politeness, Taplow...

extend to acknowledgement
of help received?

Thank you, sir.

This must be very dull for you.

On the contrary, sir,
extremely informative.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

- Mr. Hunter.
- Good morning, Mrs. Frobisher.

Will you dine with us tonight?

We're having a farewell
for the Crocker-Harrises.

- Thank you. I'd love to.
- I know you're such a friend of theirs...

and the headmaster is most anxious
to have only their intimates.

It, uh, hasn't been easy
to make up a table, I must say.

Oh, I didn't mean that unkindly.

- No, I'm quite sure you didn't.
- She, of course, has quite a few friends.

The poor dear.

It's rather tragic, isn't it?
For her, I mean.

So young, and quite remarkably pretty,
don't you think, uh, considering?

- Oh, quite remarkably so.
- Yes, I often wonder why she ever, uh-

Oh, well, it never does to speculate on
the little mysteries of matrimony, does it?

- I don't suppose it does.
- Half past 7:00, then?

We're having dinner early
because of the fireworks.

Right. Good-bye.

Very well.
You may leave.

Just one moment.

This is, as you may know,
the last time I shall see you as a class.

It might not be amiss for me
to say good-bye...

and wish you all
the best of good fortune.

Thank you, sir.

Good luck.

Taplow.

I shall expect to see you
for extra work at midday precisely.

Oh, but I fixed up a date for golf, sir.

Then you must unfix it,
mustn't you, Taplow?

You missed an hour last week,
and you must not ask me...

to take money from your father
under false pretenses.

- 12:00 noon, Taplow.
- Yes, sir.

- Thank you. It's been most interesting.
- Not at all.

- Perhaps you would care to glance at these.
- Not just now, sir, if you don't mind.

You might find them informative.

Well, you see, sir,

the information I'm looking for hasn't
very much to do with Latin verse.

Oh, indeed?

What has it to do with?

Human nature.

Oh, I see.
The modern psychological method.

I have no doubt there is
much to be said for it.

Well, good-bye.

Bye.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Slow back and stiff left arm.

You'll never hit it
if you break the wrists.

Oh, it's you, is it?
Are you following me about or something?

No, sir. Mr. Crocker-Harris isn't in,
and I was waiting for him.

- Did he tell you to come?
- Yes, sir. Extra work.

- What time?
- 12:00.

- Are you sure?
- Positive, sir.

- Is Mrs. Crocker-Harris in?
- No, sir.

Well, Taplow, heard any more
about your promotion?

- Oh, no, sir.
- Why don't you ask him outright?

I did yesterday, sir.
Do you know what he said?

- Mm-mmm.
- "My dear Taplow...

"I have given you
exactly what you deserve.

No less and certainly no more."

Not a bit like him.
Read your nice Caesar and be quiet.

Caesar? That's prep school stuff.

This is Greek, sir.
Aeschylus. The Agamemnon.

- Oh.
- Have you ever read it, sir?

Uh, no, I'm afraid not, Taplow.

- Do you know, sir, it isn't such a bad play?
- Yes, it rather has that reputation.

I mean, it's got such a jolly good plot.

A wife murdering her husband
and having a lover and all that.

Only you wouldn't think so,
the way it was taught to us.

Just a lot of Greek words
all strung together...

and 50 lines if you get them wrong.

- You sound a little bitter, Taplow.
- I am rather, sir.

I'd fixed up a date for golf,
and look at the weather.

"Then you must unfix it,
mustn't you, Taplow?"

Yes, that's it.

Gosh, the man's barely human.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.
Have I gone too far?

- Yes, much too far.
- Sorry, sir. It wasn't only the golf, sir.

It was something else
that happened today.

What?

Well, he made one
of his little classical jokes.

Of course, no one laughed because
no one understood it-myself included.

Still, I knew he'd meant it
as funny, and I laughed.

Oh, not out of
sucking up, sir, I swear...

but out of feeling a little sorry for him
having made a dud joke.

I do feel sorry for him sometimes.

Goodness only knows why,
because I don't.

Well, the joke was
something like this:

"Scientia est, " something-or-other,
"scientiam."

- Now you laugh, sir.
- Ha, ha.

"Taplow, you laughed at
my little epigram, I noticed.

"I must confess I am flattered...

"at the evident advance
your Latin has made...

"that you should so readily
have understood...

"what the rest of the class did not.

Perhaps now you will be
kind enough to explain it to Th-"

Oh, goodness.

- Hello, Frank.
- Oh, hello.

Do you think she heard?
I think she did.

- If she tells him, there goes my promotion.
- Oh, nonsense.

- Taplow.
- Yes, Mrs. Crocker-Harris?

- Are you waiting for my husband?
- Yes.

Well, he's gone to the bursar's.
I think he'll be quite some time.

If I were you, I'd go.

But he said most particularly
I was to come.

Well, why don't you run away
and come back later? I'll take the blame.

I tell you what.
You can run an errand for him.

Here. Take this to the chemist
and get it made up.

- Yes, Mrs. Crocker-Harris.
- Oh, and Taplow...

while you're there, you might as well
slip into Stewart's and have an ice cream.

Thanks awfully,
Mrs. Crocker-Harris.

Thank you for coming.
I didn't know Andrew had made a date.

- He said he'd be out until lunch.
- Oh, I see.

Can you come back
for a cocktail this evening?

Yes, I'd love to, if I may.

If you may.

Give me a cigarette.

You haven't given it away yet, I see.

- Do you think I might?
- Frankly, yes.

Luckily, it's a man's case. I don't suppose
any of your girlfriends would want it.

Oh, don't be silly.

Do you know
I haven't seen you for over a week?

- What have you been doing?
- I really have been most awfully busy.

Besides, I'm going to stay
with you in Bradford.

That's not for over a month.

Andrew doesn't start
his new job until September the 1st.

That's one of the things
I had to tell you.

Oh, uh, I had expected to be
in Devonshire in September.

- Who with?
- My family.

Surely you can go earlier.
Can't you go in August?

- Well, it'll be difficult.
- Then you'll have to come to me in August.

- But Andrew will be there.
- Yes.

That's right.
Burn the house down.

I think I can manage September.

Well, that would be better
from every point of view.

Except that it means
I shan't see you for six weeks.

- You'll survive that all right.
- Oh, yes, I'll survive it...

but not quite so easily as you will.

Oh, Frank, darling,
I love you so much.

I shall be seeing you both at dinner tonight.
Mrs. Frobisher was kind enough to ask me.

- Oh, good. I'm so glad.
- Ah, Hunter. How are you?

- Very well, thank you.
- Most kind of you to drop in...

but as Millie should have told you,
I'm expecting a pupil for extra work.

- Yes, he knows about that.
- Ah, good. Is Taplow here?

No. I sent him to the chemist
to get your medicine made up.

There was no need to do that, my dear.
Now Taplow will be late...

and I'm so pressed for time
I hardly know how to fit him in as it is.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Millie, give our guest a cigarette.

We haven't got any.

Is there any refreshment
I can offer you?

No, thank you.
I think I'd better be getting along.

No, don't.
I mean, of course, unless you have to.

When Taplow comes back, we can sit
out in the garden and enjoy the sun.

Good idea. Hunter...

perhaps it would interest you
to glance at the new timetable...

I have drafted for next term.

Yes, very much.
I never knew you drafted our timetables.

Oh, didn't you?
I have done so for the last 10 years.

Of course, they are usually issued
under the headmaster's signature.

Now let me see. What class do you take?
Science upper fifth.

There you are.
That's the general picture.

But on the back you will find each class
specified under separate headings.

That's a new idea of mine.
Millie, this might interest you.

You know it bores me to death.

Millie has no head
for this sort of work.

There you are.

Here you can follow your class
throughout every day of the week.

I must say,
this is a really wonderful job.

Thank you.
It has the merit of clarity, I think.

I don't know what
they'll do without you.

They will get someone else, I expect.

Excuse me.

What sort of a place
is this you're going to?

A school for backward boys...

run by an old Oxford
contemporary of mine.

The work will not be
as arduous as here...

and the doctor seems to think
that I can undertake it without... danger.

It's the most rotten bad luck for you.
I'm awfully sorry.

My dear Hunter,
there's nothing whatever to be sorry for.

I am looking forward to the change.

Ah, Taplow, good.

- You have been running, I see.
- Yes, sir.

There was a queue
at the chemist's, I suppose.

Yes, sir.

And doubtless an even
longer one at Stewart's.

Yes, sir. Or rather-

You were late yourself, Andrew.

Exactly. And for that
I apologize, Taplow.

However, nothing has been lost.
We still have a clear hour before lunch.

Hunter, Taplow is desirous of obtaining
his promotion from my class-

or rather, what was my class-

so that he may spend the rest
of his career happily splitting atoms...

in your science upper fifth.

- And has he?
- Has he what?

Obtained his promotion.

He has obtained
exactly what he deserves.

No less and certainly no more.

I see.

Time waits, Taplow, and so do I.

The Agamemnon, line 1,372.

Begin.

He should never have become
a schoolmaster. Why did he?

- Andrew?
- Mm.

It was his vocation, he said.
He was sure he'd make a big success of it...

especially when he got
the lower fifth his first term.

Like that young fellow in chapel.

How did you meet him in the first place?
I've often wondered.

It was up at Windermere.

I was staying with my uncle,
Sir William Bartop.

- Andrew was on a walking tour.
- A walking tour?

He wasn't always
the Crock, you know.

He was quite good-looking
in those days, believe it or not.

Had a bit of gumption then, too.
At least I thought he had.

Ah, yes. He was sure
he'd end up headmaster of Eton...

with a knighthood
and all that to follow.

Well, I can't help
feeling sorry for him.

He's not sorry for himself,
so why should you be?

It's me you should be sorry for.

I am.

Then show me.

"Oh, Clytemnestra, we're surprised at-"

- "We marvel at."
- "We marvel at thy tongue.

How bold thou art that you-"

- "Thou."
- "Thou can-"

- "Canst."
- "Canst boastfully speak-"

"Utter such a boastful speech."

"Utter such a boastful speech...

"over...

the bloody corpse of
the husband you've just slain."

Taplow, I presume you are using
a different text from mine.

- No, sir.
- That is strange...

for the line as I read it reads...

"Etis toion de andri kompazeis logon."

However diligently I search,
I can discover no "bloody," no "corpse"...

no "you have slain."

Simply "husband."

Yes, sir. That's right.

Then why do you invent words
that simply are not there?

Well, I thought
they sounded better, sir.

More exciting.
After all, she did kill her husband.

She's just been revealed
with his dead body weltering in gore.

I am delighted
at this evidence, Taplow...

of your interest in the rather more lurid
aspects of dramaturgy...

but I feel I must remind you that you are
supposed to be construing Greek...

not collaborating with Aeschylus.

Yes, but still, sir,
translator's license, sir.

I didn't get anything wrong,
and after all, it is a play...

and not just a bit of Greek construe.

I seem to detect a note
of end-of-term in your remarks.

I am not denying that
the Agamemnon is a play.

It is, perhaps,
the greatest play ever written.

I wonder how many boys
in the class think that.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

Shall I go on, sir?

Shall I go on, sir?

I remember
when I was a very young man-

only a few years older
than you are now, Taplow-

I wrote, for my own pleasure,
a translation of the Agamemnon.

A very free translation,
I remember, in rhyming couplets.

The whole Agamemnon in verse?

Oh, that must have been
jolly hard work, sir.

It was hard work,
but I derived great joy from it...

and the play had so excited
and moved me...

that I wished to communicate,
however imperfectly...

some of that emotion to others.

I remember
I thought it very beautiful.

Almost more beautiful
than the original.

- Was it ever published, sir?
- No. I didn't finish it.

Yesterday when I was
packing my papers, I looked for it...

but... I'm afraid it is lost...

like so many other things.

- Lost for good.
- Oh, hard luck, sir.

Now go back and get
that last line right.

Um, "That thou canst utter...

such a boastful speech
over thy husband."

Yes. And now if you'll be kind enough
to do the line again...

without the facial contortion
which you found necessary to go with it.

Uh, isn't that the clock, sir?

It is the clock, Taplow,

informing us that we still have a quarter
of an hour for our lesson.

- Look, I really must be going.
- You can't lunch?

I'm afraid not.
I'm lunching down the cricket field.

- Who with?
- One of my boys and his father.

Oh. Not the Carstairs?

Why the Carstairs?

Betty Carstairs has got her eye on you.

I saw you at that tea party.
Don't think I didn't notice.

Oh, Millie, darling, really.
I detest the woman.

Then what were you doing
on Saturday in her box at the concert?

Carstairs was kind enough
to invite me.

I went because it was
a good place to hear from.

Yes, I'm sure it was.
Much better than the circle.

The circle?

- Oh.
- It's all right, my dear.

- As it happens, we gave the seat away.
- I'm terribly sorry.

Don't bother to apologize.
We couldn't afford a box, you see.

It wasn't that.
You know it wasn't. It was just that-

Well, I clean forgot.

Funny you didn't forget
the Carstairs' invitation.

- Millie, don't be a fool.
- Oh, Frank, have you never been in love?

I know you're not in love with me, but
haven't you ever been in love with anyone?

Don't you realize the torture you inflict
on someone who loves you when you do that?

- I'm sorry. What more can I say?
- Why not the truth?

The truth is I clean forgot.

The truth is you had something
better to do. Why not say it?

Believe it if you like.

It happens to be a lie,
but believe it all the same.

- Only for heaven's sake, stop this.
- For heaven's sake, show me some pity.

Do you think it's any pleasanter for me
to believe you cut me because you forgot?

Do you think that doesn't hurt either?

Oh, I meant to be so brave
and not mention the concert.

Why did I?

You'd better go, Frank.
You'll be late for your lunch.

Yes, I'd better go.

Frank.

I'll come down to the cricket
this afternoon.

Any chance of seeing you?

- I'll be sitting by the flagstaff.
- With your lunch people?

No, I'll ditch them.

"What poison, O woman, hast thou found?"

- Frank is just going.
- Oh.

Please don't get up.
I didn't mean to disturb you.

We shall see you again, I trust, before
Millie and I depart from your life forever?

Yes, I'm coming here
for a drink this evening.

Splendid.

We expected you
at the concert, Hunter.

- Oh, I'm most terribly sorry-
- He clean forgot, Andrew.

Indeed.

Not everyone is blessed
with your superhuman memory, you see.

- I really can't apologize enough.
- Oh, please. Don't bother to mention it.

We managed to sell the seat
to a Dr. Lambert,

who seemed a passably
agreeable person.

You liked him, didn't you, Millie?

Yes, very much.
I thought him quite charming.

A charming old gentleman.

Well, good-bye, my dear fellow.

- Good-bye for now.
- I'll show you out.

Very well, Taplow.

If you leave now, you will be
in plenty of time for your lunch.

Oh, thank you, sir.
Uh, may I go out through the garden, sir?

That is surely not
the quickest way to your house.

- It is to the golf course, sir.
- Very well.

Thank you, sir.

- Frank, just tell me one thing.
- What?

That you're not running away from me.
That's all I want to hear.

I'm coming to Bradford.

I think if you don't,
I shall kill myself.

I'm coming to Bradford.

Thank you.

It's on the table.
It's only cold.

Excuse me.

Ah, splendid chap, this Fletcher.
Splendid.

Mm.

- What a loss.
- Indeed.

You know, Headmaster, I really can't
quite understand why you let him go.

I need hardly tell you, General,
that to persuade him to stay...

I tried every ruse in my repertoire.

Well, that's pretty extensive, I grant.

Thank you, General.
But alas, to no avail.

This post he's going to in the city
is an extremely lucrative one.

- There's Crocker-Harris.
- Ah, yes.

Go on, Head,
you'd better get it over.

You don't think that it might come better
from you as head of the governing body?

No, certainly not.
Your business, Headmaster. Sorry.

- Hello, Betty.
- Good day, Carstairs.

- Good day, sir.
- Hello, Millie, my dear.

- Are you stealing Frank from me?
- Well, we did have a date.

- Yes, so he told me.
- I've got three seats just over here.

Good-bye.

You'd think he'd be simply bound to notice,
wouldn't you?

- Who?
- Crocker-Harris.

- Notice what?
- Frank, of course.

Don't gossip, Betty.
I've told you before.

What is there to notice anyway?

My dear, didn't you know?

I see that Fletcher has scored 107.

That brings his average for this year
to over three figures.

- Most gratifying.
- There you are, Crocker-Harris.

- I wonder if I could have a word with you.
- Certainly, Headmaster.

We might go for a little stroll
round the grounds, perhaps,

if that suits you.

- Would you excuse us, dear lady?
- Why, of course, Headmaster.

Thank you. I leave you,
anyway, in excellent hands.

Did he mean something by that?

No, of course not.
Don't be so nervous.

I know what he wants
to see him about anyway.

- I've a delicate matter to broach.
- Oh, yes?

Good afternoon, Lady Harpenden. My boy.

By the way, what did you think
of your successor, young Gilbert, eh?

- He seemed very agreeable.
- Good afternoon, Mrs.-

What is that woman's name?
Agreeable?

He's more than that.
He's a very brilliant young man.

Won exceptionally high honors
at Oxford.

The Chancellor's Prize for Latin Verse
and the Gaisford.

Oh, indeed?

Come to think of it,
you won those too, didn't you?

- That is correct, sir.
- And something else besides?

The Hertford Latin and the Newdigate.

Did you? Did you indeed?
And a double first, too.

It's hard to remember sometimes...

that perhaps you're the most brilliant
scholar that ever came to the school.

- You are very kind.
- Hard to remember, I mean...

because of your other activities-
your brilliant work on the timetable...

and your heroic battle for so long
with the soul-destroying lower fifth.

I have not found that my soul has been
destroyed by the lower fifth, Headmaster.

- I was joking, of course.
- Oh. I see.

Good shot, sir. Good shot.

- Here.
- Thank you, sir.

Plays that shot superbly, doesn't he?
Right to the pitch of the ball.

Yes, indeed. What was this delicate matter
you wished to broach, Headmaster?

Let's sit here, shall we?

It's extremely unlucky that ill health...

should have forced your retirement
at such an early age...

and-and so short a time...

before you'd have become eligible
for a pension.

You have decided, then,
not to award me a pension.

Not I, my dear fellow.
Nothing to do with me.

It's the governors who have been forced
to turn down your application.

I put your case to them
as well as I could...

but they decided,
with great regret...

that they couldn't make
an exception to the rule.

But I thought-
Well, my wife thought that...

exceptions have been made
in the past.

Ah, the case of Buller,
you mean, perhaps. Yes, yes.

But you must remember that circumstances
were quite exceptional in that case.

It was, after all,

in playing football against the school
that he received that injury.

- I quite understand.
- Yes. I thought you would.

After all, I presume
your salary at this, uh, school-

My salary will be £200 a year.

With board and lodging, of course.

For eight months of the year.

Oh, yes. Yes.

Anyway, your wife's comfortably
provided for, is she not?

I've often heard her refer
to her family connections.

Her father has a business
in, uh, Bradford, is it?

He runs a men's clothing store
in the arcade.

Oh. Your wife's remarks
led me to imagine...

it was something a little more, uh-
a little more extensive.

She has £300 a year of her own,
on which I pay tax.

- I have nothing.
- Hmm.

Yes, yes, yes. I see.

Of course,
there's the school benevolent fund,

which deals with cases
of actual hardship-

There will be no actual hardship,
Headmaster.

Good. I'm very glad to hear that.

Of course, I am not denying
that a pension would have been welcome...

but I see no reason to quarrel
with the governors' decision.

Ah, they're going in to tea.

I see we're strategically placed
for the marquee.

Well-played, sir. Well-played.

It is fitting indeed
that he should end his career here...

in such a blaze of glory.

Now, that brings me to a-
to a particular favor I have to ask of you.

I know I shan't have to ask it in vain.

Yes, Headmaster,
and what favor is that?

It concerns tomorrow's
prizegiving ceremony.

- Sugar for you?
- Uh, no, thank you.

I'll have a biscuit, I think.
Thank you.

Now, I take it you're prepared
to say a few words tomorrow?

Indeed. Perhaps you would care
to glance at these few notes.

That won't be necessary. I know I can trust
to your discretion, not to say your wit.

Now then, um, uh,
the favor I have to ask you is this.

Fletcher is, of course,
considerably junior to you...

and as such his speech
should precede yours.

But, uh, well, my dear fellow,
you know how the boys feel about Fletcher.

There might very well be a tremendous
demonstration of affection and gratitude...

which it would be wrong
for me to cut short-

difficult for me
to cut short, anyhow.

Well, now, you understand
the, uh, quandary in which I'm placed.

Perfectly. You wish to refer to me
and for me to make my speech...

before you come to Fletcher.

I feel wretched about asking you
to do this, my dear fellow...

but, believe me, it's more for your sake
than for mine or Fletcher's that I do.

You see, a climax is what one must try
to work up to on these occasions.

Naturally, Headmaster.
I should not wish to provide an anticlimax.

Ah, your wife and her escort.
How do you do?

Mrs. Crocker-Harris, may I say
what a delightful hat that is.

Oh, thank you, Headmaster.
I'm glad you like it.

Has anyone ever told you
what a charming wife you have?

Many people, sir,
but then I hardly need to be told.

- Excuse me.
- Oh, would you mind?

Ah, strawberries.
Now then, Mrs. Crocker-Harris.

- Strawberries for you, eh?
- Oh, no, thank you, Headmaster.

- No? What about you, Crocker-Harris?
- He's not allowed them.

Poor Andrew, we have to be
very careful of his diet. Don't we, dear?

Yes.

You did remember to take
your medicine before we came out?

Yes, I did.

Lucky invalid to have such
an attractive nurse.

I don't know about all these compliments.

- I don't believe you mean a word of them.
- Headmaster.

Indeed I do.
Certainly. Would you excuse me a minute?

- You're coming to dinner tonight?
- Yes. Looking forward to it.

See you tonight, then,
and you, Crocker-Harris.

And thank you very much indeed.
Till tonight.

Well, do we get it?

Do we get what?

- The pension, of course. Do we get it?
- No.

- Why not?
- It's against the rules.

Buller got it, didn't he?
Buller got it.

What's the idea of giving it
to other people and not to us?

The circumstances in the case
of Buller were exceptional.

It was while playing football against
the school that he received that injury.

What did you say?

Just stood there
and made some joke in Latin, I suppose.

There was very little I could say-
in Latin or any other language.

Oh, wasn't there?
I'd have said it.

I wouldn't have just stood there,
twiddling my thumbs...

and taking it from
that old phony of a headmaster.

But then, of course,
I'm not a man.

That's the Crock over there,
with his wife.

Oh, yes. I can't say
I altogether like the look of him.

Perhaps for once
you're not exaggerating, Michael.

Oh, I'm not.
He's an absolute swine.

- Shh. Darling.
- Sorry.

She looks quite different, though.
Poor dear.

What do they expect you to do?
Live on my money, I suppose.

- We are causing attention.
- I don't care. Let everyone know.

Live on my money.
Is that what they expect?

There has never been
any question of that.

I shall be perfectly able
to support myself.

Yourself?

Doesn't the marriage service say something
about a husband supporting a wife?

- Well, doesn't it? You ought to know.
- Yes, it does.

How do you expect to do
that on 200 a year?

I shall do my utmost to save some of it.
You are welcome to it if I can.

Thank you for precisely nothing.

What else did the old fool have to say?

- Ah, they're coming out.
- What else did the old fool have to say?

The headmaster?

He asked me to make my speech tomorrow
before instead of after Fletcher.

Oh, yes. Yes, I knew
he was going to ask you that.

You knew?

Yes. He asked my advice
about it last week.

I told him to go ahead.
I knew you wouldn't care...

and as there isn't a Mrs. Fletcher to make
me look a fool, I didn't give two hoots.

Where are you off to?

I am going to my classroom
to collect some papers.

Oh, I'm so sorry, sir.
I didn't expect-

Come in, come in.

This is, after all,
your classroom now, not mine.

Perhaps you will forgive me if I clear
out some old papers from your desk.

Yes, of course. Please do.
I just came to have another look round.

- Didn't think anyone would be here.
- I shan't be long. I promise you.

Oh, please don't hurry, sir.

The truth is I suddenly got
the most awful attack of jitters.

"Jitters"?

- Uh, nerves, sir.
- Oh.

I thought the best way
of getting rid of them would be

to come here and
rehearse taking a class.

- I expect you'll laugh at me for that.
- Why should you expect it?

Well, you're so awfully good
at keeping order, aren't you?

- Hmm.
- I saw that this morning.

I'm even told that you're known
as the Himmler of the lower fifth.

Himmler?

Oh, yes, the Gestapo chief.

The Himmler of the lower fifth?
Who told you that?

Well, the headmaster,
amongst others.

I think he exaggerated.

I hope he exaggerated.

No, sir. H-He only meant you-
you kept the most wonderful discipline.

Now, I couldn't even manage
11-year-olds...

so what I shall be like with 15's and 16's,
I shudder to think.

It is not so difficult,
and, well, they're not bad boys.

A little wild and unfeeling,
perhaps, but not bad.

The Himmler of the lower fifth.
Dear me.

I'm afraid I shouldn't have said that.
I've been tactless, I'm afraid.

No, no.

Of course, from the very beginning...

I realized I did not possess the knack
of making myself liked, but...

at the beginning, at least, I -

I did try very hard
to communicate to the boys-

those boys sitting down there-

some of my own joy
in the great literature of the past.

Of course, I -I failed...

as you will fail...

999 times out of a thousand.

But a single success can atone
and more than atone...

for all the failures in the world...

and sometimes-
very rarely, it is true-

but sometimes I had that success.

That, of course,
was in the early years.

And then, too,
in those early years...

the boys used sometimes
even to laugh at me.

Not with me, of course.

Never with me, for I have
so little sense of humor.

But at me. At my little
mannerisms and tricks of speech.

And that made me very happy.

And I remember I used to
encourage the boys' laughter...

by rather overdoing those little mannerisms
and tricks of speech for their benefit.

Perhaps they didn't like me as a man...

but at least they found me
funny as a character.

And you can teach far more things
by laughter than by earnestness.

So you see, for a time at least...

I had quite a success
as a schoolmaster.

I fear this is all very personal
and embarrassing for you.

You need have no fears
about the lower fifth.

I'm -I'm afraid I said something just now
that hurt you very much.

It's myself you must forgive, sir.

Believe me, I'm most desperately sorry.

There's no need.
I should have known for myself.

I knew, of course,
that I was not only not liked...

but now positively disliked.

I'd realized, too, that the boys,
for many long years now...

had ceased to laugh at me.

I don't know why
they no longer found me a joke.

Perhaps it was my illness.

No.

I don't think it was that.
Something deeper than that.

Not a sickness of the body,
but a sickness of the soul.

At all events, it didn't take
much discernment on my part to realize...

that I had become
an utter failure as a schoolmaster.

Still, stupidly enough, I had not realized
that I was also... feared.

The Himmler of the lower fifth.

I suppose that will become my epitaph.

Well, I bequeath you this room.

I predict that you will have
great success in it.

Thank you, sir.
I shall do my best.

You will, I know, respect
the confidence I have just made you.

I should hate you to think I wouldn't.

I'm sorry to have embarrassed you.
I really don't know what came over me.

I -I have not been
very well, you know.

Well, good-bye, my dear fellow...

and my best wishes.

Good-bye, sir, and the very best
of good luck to you, too, sir,

in your future career.

Oh, yes.
Thank you.

There won't be room for all that.

I'm aware of that.
Most of it can be burnt.

I'm only keeping those papers
that are essential.

Essential for what?

"The Agamemnon,
Rendered into English Verse by-"

Hmm. When did you do that?

Before our marriage.
It is unfinished.

Our marriage?

No, the translation.

These are for burning.

Mm. About time, too.
There were a lot more up in the attic.

I had them cleared out yesterday.

You haven't looked at them for years,
so I suppose you don't want them.

Why didn't you come back
to the cricket match?

I was talking to young Gilbert,
my successor.

Oh, yes.
Nice young fellow, that.

He looks as though
he's got what it takes.

Yes.

I bet when he leaves
it won't be without a pension.

It will be roses, roses all the way.

Tears, cheers and good-bye, Mr. Chips.

- I expect so.
- What's the matter?

Nothing.

You're not going to have another
of your attacks, are you? You look awful.

I am perfectly all right.

Well, you know best.

Your medicine's there if you want it.

Don't forget you've got to change.

Come in.

Yes, Taplow, what is it?

Oh, nothing, sir.

What do you mean by "nothing"?

Well, I just came back
to say good-bye, sir.

Oh.

I rather dashed out
this morning, I'm afraid.

You see,
I had that golf date, and, well...

I just thought I'd come back
and wish you luck, sir.

Thank you, Taplow.
That's good of you.

- Oh, you found it, sir.
- Thank you for coming round, Taplow.

Sir, I thought this might interest you.

- What is it?
- Verse translation of the Agamemnon.

The Browning version.
Oh, it's not much good, I'm afraid.

I've been reading it
in the chapel gardens.

Hmm. It's very interesting, Taplow.

I know the translation, of course.
It has its faults, I agree.

But, oh, I think you will enjoy it more
when you get used to the meter he employs.

Oh, but it's for you, sir.

- For me?
- Yes, sir. I've written in it.

Did you buy this, Taplow?

Yes, sir.
It was only secondhand.

You shouldn't spend
your pocket money in this way.

Oh, that's all right, sir.
It wasn't very much.

Oh, the price isn't still inside, is it?

No.Just what you have written.

Nothing else.

What's the matter, sir?
Did I get the accent wrong on the-

No, no. The perispomenon
is perfectly correct.

Taplow, would you be good enough
to take that bottle of medicine...

which you so kindly
brought in this morning...

and pour me out one dose in a glass,
which you will find in the dining room?

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

You must forgive this little
exhibition of weakness, Taplow.

The truth is that I have been going
through rather a strain lately.

Oh, I quite understand, sir.

Come in.

- Ah, Hunter.
- Hello.

Oh, am I too early?

You sure I'm not disturbing you?

No. This is not a lesson.

Taplow very kindly
came in to say good-bye.

Oh. Are you sure I'm not intruding?

Oh, no. I want you to see this book
that Taplow has just given me.

Look. A translation of the Agamemnon
by Robert Browning.

Do you see the inscription
he has written inside?

Yes, but it's no good to me, I'm afraid.
I never learned Greek.

Then we must translate it
for him, mustn't we, Taplow?

That, in a rough translation, means...

"God from afar looks graciously
upon a gentle master."

I see. Very pleasant and very apt.

Very pleasant.

But perhaps, after all...

not so very apt.

Well, good-bye, sir.

Good-bye, Taplow,
and thank you very much.

Dear me. What a fool I must have
made of myself in front of that boy.

And in front of you, too, Hunter.

I really don't know
what you can think of me.

Nonsense.

I'm not a very emotional person,
as you may know...

but there was something
so very unexpected...

and, uh, touching about his action...

coming as it did so soon after-

This is a very delightful thing to have,
don't you think?

Delightful.

The quotation, of course,
he didn't find entirely for himself.

I happened to make some little joke
about it in class the other day...

but, well, he must have remembered
to have found it so readily.

Perhaps he means it.

I'm sure he does,
or he wouldn't have written it.

Well, now, let me get you a drink.

A glass of sherry.

Thank you.

There.

- Oh, hello, Frank.
- Hello.

Andrew, you'll be late.

Your husband has just been given
a very nice present.

- Oh? Who by?
- Taplow.

Oh, Taplow.

He bought it with his own
pocket money, Millie,

and wrote a very charming
inscription inside.

"God looks kindly
upon a gracious master."

No, not "gracious."
"Gentle," I think.

Malthakos, yes.

I think "gentle" would be
the better translation.

I believe I would rather have had this
present than almost anything I can think of.

Let me see.

The artful little beast.

- Millie.
- Why artful, Millie?

Why artful, Millie?

Because, my dear,
I came into the room this morning...

to find Taplow giving
an imitation of you to Frank here.

Obviously, he was scared stiff I'd tell you
and you’d ditch his promotion or something.

I don't blame him for trying
a few shillings' worth of appeasement.

I see.

I think I'll have
a glass of sherry, too.

You've already had a dose
of that medicine, haven't you, dear?

I shouldn't have another if I were you.

I am allowed two at a time.

In heaven's name, Millie,
how could you?

Well, why not? Why should he be allowed
his comforting little illusions? I'm not.

Listen. You're to go to his room now
and tell him it was a lie.

- Certainly not. It wasn't a lie.
- If you don't, I will.

I shouldn't if I were you.

It'll only make things worse.
He won't believe you.

- We'll see about that.
- All right, see what happens.

He knows I don't lie to him.

He knows what I've told him's the truth,
and he'll hate you for your sympathy.

He'll think you're making fun of him.

Like Taplow.

We're finished, Millie, you and I.

Oh. Oh, Frank, really.

- I mean it, Millie.
- Oh, don't be silly, darling.

Come and sit down
and forget all about artful little boys...

and their five-shilling presents
and talk to me.

Forget? If I live to be a hundred...

I shall never forget the glimpse
you've just given me of yourself.

Frank, I don't understand.
What is this? What have I done?

I think you know
what you've done, Millie.

Go and look after Andrew.

Why all this sudden concern for Andrew?

Because I think he's been about
as badly hurt as a human being can be.

Hurt? Andrew?

- You can't hurt Andrew. He's dead.
- Why do you hate him so?

I don't hate him.
You can't hate the dead.

You can only despise them,
and I despise Andrew.

- What do you mean he's dead?
- He's not a man at all.

He's a human being, isn't he?
And he's sick.

If you have any sense of decency,
you'll go and see how he is.

Decency?
You're a fine one to talk about decency...

when all these months
you've been deceiving him.

At your urgent invitation.

Thank you for that.
I deserve it.

- I deserve a lot worse, too.
- Frank, forgive me. I didn't mean it.

- You'd better learn the truth, Millie.
- No.

When you asked me if I was running
from you, I gave you a wrong answer...

but I was coming to Bradford.

That was going to be the last time
I was ever going to see you.

- At Bradford I would have told you so.
- You wouldn't.

You've tried to tell me so often before,
and I've always stopped you somehow.

- Somehow I'd have stopped you again.
- I don't think so, Millie. Not this time.

Oh, I would. I would.

Frank, I don't care how much
you humiliate me, but I can't let you go.

You're all I've got in this life.

I know you don't give two hoots
about me as a person...

but I've never minded
as long as you wanted me as a woman.

You do, don't you? You do.

It'll be all right at Bradford.
You'll see.

I'm not coming to Bradford, Millie.

- May I come in?
- What is it?

About Taplow.

What about Taplow?

I'm afraid it's perfectly true
he was imitating you this morning...

but I was to blame for that...

and I'm very sorry.

- Was it a good imitation?
- No.

I expect it was.
Boys are often very clever mimics.

I don't suppose you'll believe this,

but he told me this morning
he liked you very much.

Indeed?

So, you see,
I don't think it was appeasement...

that had anything to do
with his giving you that book.

The book? Oh, dear me,
what a lot of fuss about a little book.

I'd like you to believe me.

Probably you would,
my dear Hunter...

but, you see,

I am not particularly concerned
with Taplow's views on my character.

Nor with yours either,
if it comes to that.

If I were you,
I should keep that book all the same.

You may find it means
something to you after all.

Exactly.

It will provide me
with a perpetual reminder...

of the scene with which, at this very moment,
Taplow is regaling his friends.

"I say, chaps...

"I gave the Crock a book
to buy him off, and he cried.

"The Crock cried.

I tell you I was there. I saw it.
The Crock cried."

My mimicry is not quite
as good as his, I fear.

Forgive me.

As this may be the last time...

I shall ever have the opportunity
of speaking to you alone...

may I give you a piece of advice?

I will be glad to listen to it.

Leave your wife.

So that you may the more easily
carry on your intrigue with her?

How long have you known about that?

Since it began.

How did you find out?

- By information.
- By whose information?

By someone whose word
I could scarcely discredit.

Oh, no.
That's too horrible to think of.

Nothing is too horrible to think of,
my dear Hunter.

It is simply a question of facing facts.

She may have told you a lie.
Have you faced that fact?

She never tells me a lie.

In all the years that
I have been married to her,

she has never told me a lie.

Only the truth.

She's out to kill you.

Powdered glass, you mean?

Not that kind of killing.

Something deadlier
than poisoning the body.

The soul? Oh, yes.

In that other sense she is,
as you rightly say...

out to kill me.

That is only another fact
that I have managed to face.

And indeed, I have faced
the more important fact...

that she succeeded
in her purpose long ago.

Ladies and gentlemen...

it is my melancholy duty to propose
a toast of farewell and Godspeed...

to our friends,
the Crocker-Harrises.

I am not, you'll be pleased to hear...

going to make a speech,
but merely on your behalf...

to wish them all success...

and great and continued happiness...

in their future life together.

Mr. and Mrs. Crocker-Harris.

The Crocker-Harrises.

Thank you, Headmaster. So kind.

Are you leaving
for Bradford tomorrow, dear lady?

Yes. We shall stay at a hotel
near my uncle's place.

That's, uh, Sir William Bartop.
You may have heard of him?

Indeed. The name sounds
extremely familiar.

Then, of course, Andrew goes off
to his new school on September the 1st...

and I shall join him there
as soon as he can arrange accommodation.

So I shall be all on my own
for a week or two at least.

Ladies, coffee.
Bring your glasses in with you.

We'll leave the gentlemen
to their cigars and improprieties.

Cigars, yes.
The improprieties we'll leave to the ladies.

Oh, John, dear-
So sorry.

Frank says he can come to us after all.
Isn't that nice?

Ah, splendid.

Oh, Mrs. Crocker-Harris...

do tell me about
your husband's new post.

Well, it's in the most pleasant part of-

I'm terribly sorry for her.

I'm afraid I can't agree.
I've always found her quite detestable.

Think how much
she has to contend with, poor dear.

After all, they're complete misfits.

Yes, a marriage of mind and body.

It never has worked
since the world began.

Well, personally,

my sympathies in a case like that
are always on the side of the body.

Oh, yes, dear.
I have no doubt.

Now then, what about a quick game
of billiards before the fireworks begin, eh?

You'll play, won't you, Williamson?

I'm afraid I'm hardly
up to your standard, Headmaster.

Nonsense. What about you,
Crocker-Harris?

- Thank you. I don't play.
- Of course not. I forgot. Ha, ha, Hunter.

We all know you're a tiger at the game.

Unworthy of you, sir.
Remember what happened last time we played.

Quite. It'll have to be you, Canon.

Come along, Carstairs.
You can mark for us.

Thank heavens we have better weather
for the fireworks this year.

Canon, I'll give you 20.
You can start.

Gentlemen, I leave you the port,
the brandy and each other.

What could be pleasanter?

I want you to believe that
I am more ashamed for what has happened...

and for the part I played in it,
than I've ever been in my life before.

I'm not asking you to forgive me...

because I find it so very hard
to forgive myself.

But I'd like to tell you this.

When I told you to leave your wife...

it had nothing whatever
to do with me.

Whatever you choose to do,

I've already decided never
to set eyes on her again.

That hardly seems to me a very
chivalrous decision, if I may say so.

Nor does the course you urge on me.

Forget chivalry, Crock,
for heaven's sake.

You must leave her.
It's your only chance.

She's my wife, Hunter.
You seem to forget that.

So long as she wishes
to remain my wife, she may.

But why won’t you leave her?

Because I should not wish
to add another grave wrong...

to the one I have already done her.

What wrong have you done her?

To marry her.

You see, my dear Hunter...

she is really quite as much
to be pitied as I am.

We are both of us interesting subjects
for your microscope...

both of us needing something from the other
to make life supportable for us...

and... neither of us able to give it.

Two kinds of love,
hers and mine.

Worlds apart, as I know now...

though when I married her...

I did not think
that they were incompatible.

Nor, I suppose, did she.

In those days I -
I had not thought that her kind of love-

the kind of love she requires and
which I had seemed unable to give her-

was so important that its absence
would drive out the other kind of love...

the kind of love I require and-

and which I had thought,
in my folly...

was by far the greater part of love.

You see, Hunter, I may have been
a very brilliant scholar...

but I was woefully ignorant
of the facts of life.

I know better now, of course.

I know now that the love we should have borne
each other has turned into a bitter hatred.

And that's all the problem is.

Not a very unusual one,
I venture to imagine, nor-

nor half so tragic
as you seem to think.

Merely the problem of an unsatisfied wife
and a henpecked husband.

You'll find it all over the world.

It is usually, I believe,
a subject for farce.

I've been sent to get you
all out in the garden.

Where are the others?

In the billiard room.

Headmaster, the fireworks
are just about to start.

Thank you, my dear. Come along in.
I'll show you an exquisite shot.

Look, don't leave
when she does tomorrow.

Stay here until you go to your new job.

I am not interested in your advice.

All right. You must do as you think best,
but I'd just like you to know that...

although I know you don't want my pity,
I would like to be of some help.

If you think by this expression
of kindness, Hunter...

that you will get me to repeat that
shameful exhibition of emotion

I made in front of Taplow...

I can assure you you have no chance.

My hysteria over that book
was no more than a sort of...

reflex action of the spirit,
the muscular twitchings of a corpse.

- It cannot happen again.
- A corpse can be revived.

I do not believe in miracles.

Don't you?
Funnily enough, as a scientist, I do.

Your faith would be touching,
if I were capable of being touched by it.

You are, I think.

- I'd like to visit you in your new school.
- That is an absurd suggestion.

Let's see. Your term starts
September the 1st, doesn't it?

- I think I could manage-
- I tell you, the idea is quite childish.

September the 12th.
Now, how would that be?

You would be bored to death,
and so probably would I.

Let's say Monday,
September the 12th then, shall we?

Say whatever you like,
only leave me alone, Hunter.

Please, leave me alone.

Monday, September the 12th.

You'll remember that?

I suppose I'm at least as likely
to remember it as you are.

Fine.

By the way, you'd better
give me your address.

The Old Deanery.

- The Old Deanery.
- Malcombe.

- Malcombe.
- Dorset.

Dorset. I'll look up the trains.

- Well!
- We might finish the game later.

This is the quickest way,
Mrs. Crocker-Harris,

through the French windows.

Come along.
After you, Crocker-Harris.

- Thank you, Headmaster.
- Come along, Canon.

Oh, how lovely.

Isn't that lovely, dear?

Come along, Mrs. Carstairs.
I think we can see over there better.

Well, that's a laugh, I must say.

What is a laugh, my dear?

You inviting him to stay with you.

No, I -I didn't invite him.

He suggested it himself.

He's coming to Bradford.

Yes, I remember your telling me so.

He's coming to Bradford.
He's not going to you.

The likeliest contingency
is that he's not going to either of us.

He's coming to Bradford.

Yes, I expect so.

- By the way, I am not.
- What?

I am not going away
with you tomorrow.

I'm going to stay here
until I take up my new post.

Oh, are you?

And what makes you think
I'll join you there?

- I don't.
- You needn't expect me.

I don't think that either of us
has any longer the right...

to expect anything further
from the other.

Yes. Yes, I know about that, but-

Of course.

Yes, but-

But Mr. Hunter can't have gone out yet.

Did you give him my message?

Oh.

Oh, Mrs. Crocker-Harris,
I'm sorry I dashed in through the garden...

but Mr. Hunter was most anxious
you should have this before you leave.

Well, good-bye,
Mrs. Crocker-Harris.

Good-bye, Taplow.

Well, General,
I think we can begin now.

- Headmaster.
- Hmm?

I must tell you
that I intend to make my speech after...

instead of before Fletcher,
as is my privilege.

But my dear chap,
yesterday we agreed.

Yes, Headmaster, but I now see the matter
in an entirely different light.

But remember what I told you about
the need for working up to a climax.

I do remember, Headmaster,
but, you see, I am of the opinion...

that occasionally an anticlimax
can be surprisingly effective.

Ladies and gentlemen...

before I call upon
General Lord Baxter of Ethiopia...

who's going to present our prizes...

it's my sad and painful duty...

to listen with you
to a few words of farewell...

from two masters who are leaving us.

First, I'll call upon Mr. -

First then,
let's hear from Mr. Fletcher, shall we?

Well, chaps, I never was
much good on my hind legs...

except perhaps at running with them.

In fact, I shall feel much
less nervous today...

facing the Australians
than I am on this platform.

So just let me say
what I have to say in a single sentence...

and then let me relax
and enjoy myself with you listening to...

Mr. Crocker-Harris's gilded
and classical epigrams.

Good-bye, good luck...

and let's win the public school sports
again next year.

And now Mr. Crocker-Harris.

A valedictory address...

as those of you who have read
your Plato's Apology will remember...

can be of inordinate length.

But as I...

unhappily, am not Socrates...

and as I have often believed that...

"vita longa, ars brevis"...

is a more suitable apothegm
than the one in more general use...

and in connection
with the word brevitas...

it is, I think, of some small interest-

It is, I think,
of some small interest-

You must excuse me.

I had prepared a speech...

but I find now that...

I have nothing to say.

Or rather,
I have three very small words...

but they are most deeply felt.

They are these:

I am sorry.

I am sorry...

because I have failed to give you...

what you had the right
to demand of me as your teacher:

sympathy, encouragement and...

humanity.

I'm sorry because
I have deserved the nickname of Himmler.

And because, by so doing...

I have degraded the noblest calling...

that a man can follow:

the care and molding of the young.

I claim no excuses.

When I came here, I -

I knew what I had to do, and...

I have not done it.

I have failed. And...

miserably failed.

But I can only hope that you...

and the countless others...

who have gone before...

will find it in your hearts
to forgive me...

for... having let you down.

I shall not find it
so easy to forgive myself.

That is all.

Good-bye.

Do you think he meant all that?

Good old Crock! Good old Crock!

And now I come to-

And now I come to-

Good old Crock! Good old Crock!

Good old Crock!

- Oh, sir.
- Yes, Taplow?

- I, um -I was in your house this morning.
- Yes, Taplow.

I hope you don't mind.
You see, I was interested.

I think it's rather good.

Do you, Taplow?

Well, it's a jolly sight better
than old Browning's, anyway.

You must not be disrespectful
to one of England's greatest poets, Taplow.

You don't think that's bad, eh?

Do you know, sir,
I found it quite exciting.

It's like a play.
I mean, a real play.

I mean, a modern play.

I read it all through.
It's a pity it's not finished.

Do you think so, Taplow?

Why did you chuck it away, sir?

It hardly seemed worth finishing.

Oh, but it is, sir.
It really is.

Oh, well, good-bye, sir.

Oh, by the way, sir,
as it's too late now to alter anything...

have I got my promotion?

That is a highly
irregular request, Taplow.

That information will be
duly forwarded to your parents...

by the headmaster
in your school report.

Yes, sir.
Just thought I'd ask.

Oh, well, good luck.

Good luck to you, Taplow.

- And Taplow.
- Sir?

If you have any regard for me...

you will refrain from blowing yourself up
next term in the science upper fifth.

Oh!

Oh, thank you, sir.
Thanks awfully.