All language subtitles for The Thorn Birds part01-04

From the raw Australia of the 1900s...

comes a turbulent saga
that spans the decades...

in Colleen McCullough's best selling novel:

The Thorn Birds.

I'll never have what I want.

The story of a priest driven by ambition.

Never be what I want!

Tormented by desire.

And I don't know how to stop...

wanting.

Hello, I'm Father de Bricassart.
You'd be Mary Carson's brother?

That's right, Father.

From the moment he saw her, he knew...

- And who are you?
- I'm Meggie.

...he would love her forever.

I give you Mary Carson.

The richest woman in Australia,
and the loneliest.

Shoot them, Frank.

You are the most beautiful man
I have ever seen, Ralph de Bricassart.

I thought it was my soul
you were after, Mary.

Why do you tug so at my heart?
Why do you fill that space...

God can't fill?

When you were a little girl,
you were like my own child to me.

- I could have you then.
- You can have me now.

You can marry me.

I have chosen to destroy you, Priest.

I'll go to hell for it, of course...

but it'll be nothing to the hell
I'm planning for you.

In the years that followed,
no one could stir Meggie's heart:

No one till a rover named Luke O'Neill.

God, you are beautiful.

Marry me, Meghann.

The story that travels around the worid...

from the Vatican
to the Australian outback.

From the islands of Greece to London.

I've tried so hard
to get her out of my heart.

The saga that spans half a century...

echoing through three generations.

Starring Richard Kiley, Jean Simmons,
Ken Howard, Mare Winningham...

Philip Anglim, Christopher Plummer,
Bryan Brown, Barbara Stanwyck...

Rachel Ward, and Richard Chamberlain.

A love unattainable...

forbidden forever: The Thorn Birds.

Dialogs, Subtitles:

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*Suitable, for all the family*

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Good day, Father de Bricassart.

- Happy Christmas to you.
- The same to you, Mrs. Smith.

Why is it the roses here on Drogheda
are always the loveliest to be found?

Aren't they heavenly?

But it's the heat that makes them bloom,
so makes me wilt.

But nothing is given
without a disadvantage in it.

True enough, Father, true enough.
I'll lay things out for Mass.

Amen.

Happy Christmas, Mrs. Carson.

How many times do I have to tell you
my name is Mary?

- And yet you never call me Ralph.
- All right, Ralph. Happy Christmas.

It's very kind of you to spend it
with a lonely old woman.

Hardly that. On the contrary,
it is very kind of you to invite...

- A lonely priest and fellow Irishman.
- That's right.

This is your first Christmas in exile,
isn't it?

Exile?

- It's my first year in Australia.
- That's not what I mean, and you know it.

Six months now,
and I still haven't figured out...

why the Church banished you out here
to the land of Never-Never.

What sin did you commit?
What priestly vow did you break?

Poverty? Obedience?

Perhaps chastity?

You're quite sure I have been banished?

Of course. Look at you.
You're aristocratic, witty, ambitious...

despite that facade of humility.

And God knows you have a subtle mind.

You're the stuff cardinals are made of.

And you would look magnificent in red.

So you've said before,
so you say each time I visit here.

And you're going to say,
"But my dear Mrs. Carson, I am a priest.

Surely I can do God's work here...

as well as in the seats
of ecclesiastical power."

Sometimes, I think you know me better
than I know myself.

I'm certain of that, too.

All right, now.

Ready.

Go!

Come on!

Come on! You can do it.

Ralph won!

- Good on you, Father Ralph.
- Bravo, Father.

Well done, Father de Bricassart.
How do you like him?

- He's beautiful.
- Good! He's yours. Happy Christmas.

Thank you.

I'll take pleasure in riding him
whenever I'm here...

but I can't accept him as a gift.

Why not? You accepted the car I gave you.

Because it allows me to get around
and see my parishioners more often.

A fine distinction.

You'll accept my gifts only if some
holy use can be made of them.

- It wasn't poverty.
- I beg your pardon?

The vow you broke that got you banished.

It must have been chastity, yes?

All right, my Christmas gift to you:

I insulted a bishop.
A matter of local church policy.

You broke your vow of obedience.

- That was ambitious of you.
- There's some comfort in the fact...

that the Pope himself later came out
in favor of my views in the matter.

Has he, now? And he hasn't rescued you?

My dear Mrs. Carson,
priests are expendable, bishops aren't.

And it's not so terrible a banishment.

I have you to remind me
of the existence of civilization...

- And I have Drogheda.
- Yes.

You would like that, wouldn't you?
You'd like to have my Drogheda.

- Would i?
- Yes, you would.

If you could charm me
into leaving Drogheda to the Church...

His Holiness would have to
rescue you, reward you...

maybe even give you that beautiful
red cardinal's robe some day.

A masterful plan.
But my dear Mrs. Carson...

I'm a priest.
Surely I can serve God as well here...

as in the seats of ecclesiastical power.

And how you'd hate it.

Still, I have to give Drogheda
to someone someday, don't I?

That's worth thinking about.

Mrs. Smith, I must go.

Please give my thanks to Mrs. Carson
for a delightful day.

That will be all, thank you.
You're not leaving so soon.

It's late and a long way back to the parish.

I hope I didn't say anything this afternoon
to upset you.

I mean, all that talk
about inheriting Drogheda.

- You didn't upset me in the least.
- Good.

- Have you thought about it?
- About what, Mrs. Carson?

About charming me out of Drogheda...

because I didn't say
I couldn't be charmed, did i?

Mrs. Carson.

What is it you want from me?

Why...

only your spiritual guidance
of course, Father.

You see, I have a decisi�n to make...

and you're the only one
that can help me with it.

- I'll do what I can.
- It's about my brother.

Your brother?

I thought you once said
you had no family left.

I have a brother.
I haven't seen him in years.

He lives in New Zealand.

We both left Ireland
to make our fortunes.

But Paddy hasn't fared too well.

He's an experienced man
with the land, however.

And he has a house full of sons.

I'm thinking of bringing him here
and making him my.

Head stockman.

I wonder you didn't think of it sooner.

I did. I've just been waiting, shall we say.

To see what might develop.

It would be a comfort to know
I would be helping Paddy.

To know I'm not all alone in this worid.

Not quite reduced to leaving
all my pretty pennies to the Church.

- It's a most generous gift, Mary.
- No. Never a gift.

No, whoever inherits Drogheda.

Earns it.

Thank you, Father.

Good night, Mrs. Carson.

Father, it's time you were off.

All right, Annie.

I'll be right there.

It'll be nice for Mrs. Carson,
having her brother's family.

I must see you about the chalk supply.

- Chalk?
- Three boxes are missing.

I'll look into it.

In Father Wattey's time, Father.

We took a much closer account
of such things.

Hello, I'm Father de Bricassart.
Sorry I'm late.

You'd be Mary Carson's brother?

That's right, Father. Paddy Cleary.
This is my wife Fiona.

Mrs. Cleary.

I'll be taking you on to Drogheda.

I know you've had a very difficult journey.

You're very kind.

- These are my boys, Father. This is Bob.
- Hello, Bob.

Jack, and Stuie here.

Take off your hat, son. And Frank.

- And who are you?
- I'm Meggie.

Are we going to live here?

Not exactly. I'll show you
your house later, Meggie.

Meggie?

Yes, this is Meggie.

Mary, we have no words to thank you
for your kindness in bringing us here.

When you're as old as I am, and as rich...

the vultures start to circle.

You're my only flesh and blood, Paddy.

I don't have any sons,
and Michael's been dead for over 30 years.

A long time to be alone.

- I wonder you've never married again.
- Marry again?

And give some man control
over me and all I have?

No, that's not what I call living.

No. As long as I am alive,
Drogheda is mine...

and only mine.

- It's well to remember that.
- Of course, Mary.

Let's have Mass right away,
and then I'm sure...

we'd all enjoy a nice, hot meal
at your table.

Sounds very nice indeed, Father.

125,000 sheep. 1,000 head of cattle...

and more fence than
you can ride in a month.

The round of work is endless...

but Drogheda is the biggest in all of
New South Wales, and the best.

I've seen to that.

All I can say is, it looks like heaven to me.

If your idea of heaven
is hard work, you're right.

But we Clearys know about hard work,
don't we, sister?

Not that it got us very far back in Ireland.

I don't want you just to lead the men.
I want you to work with them...

and to keep on working
long after they've quit.

When things go wrong,
you take the blame.

When they go right,
don't expect any credit.

And I'll give you a free hand
with the land...

just as long as you keep Drogheda
the biggest and the best.

Well, Mr. Gough...

the gold is holding well and I think
the investment looks sound.

But you're my lawyer.

The steel is still down since the war...

but nothing to worry about.

As we discussed, Carson Limited
is doing well with your expansi�n plans.

Meaning I'm still
one of the richest women in Australia.

If not the richest.

- Has your brother any idea of all this?
- No. No one has.

And that's the way I want it kept
until the day I die. Do you understand?

Of course.

It would be amusing to know
what people would say...

if they knew Drogheda
was only a hobby with me.

- Hello, Father.
- Fee.

You're fighting a losing battle.

There are three things
you can't defeat in the outback:

The dust, the heat, and the flies.

You're certainly not like
New Zealand priests.

They keep very much to themselves.

You're not a Catholic, are you?

When I lost faith in my own church...

I saw no reason to espouse a creed
equally meaningless to me.

But Paddy's a Catholic...

and we are rearing the children Catholic,
if it's worrying you.

It isn't. And I won't try to convert you.

- But I would like to be your friend.
- You're very kind to us.

I like to know my parishioners,
so I make the rounds of all stations...

but I must confess
to a special weakness for Drogheda.

- Perhaps it's my Irish blood.
- Irish?

I thought you were French background.

No, de Bricassart is an old Norman name,
but I'm Irish all right.

And the last of the de Bricassart line.
I was born in County Meath...

just a stone's throw
from the town of Drogheda.

Call it fate.

- Bye, Meggie. Wish you could go.
- Have fun, Stuie!

Poor little Meggie.

It must be hard being the only girl.

But I've been blessed with sons,
these and two I've buried.

It's her sons a mother thinks of, isn't it?

Meggie, don't dawdle.
You've got the chickens to feed.

- Father Ralph!
- Excuse me.

Hello, Meghann Cleary.

Let's feed those chookies.

Yes, but there's something
I must show you first.

Come on.

What is it?

Isn't it beautiful, Father?

Yes, I suppose it is.

Do you suppose that God
is really all around us all the time?

What makes you ask me that,
my little girl?

Because if he is, I think he must be here...

don't you?

God is in his wool room.
All is right with the worid.

And why not? He did choose a stable once.

Come on, Ralph. That's a bit precious.

Except why not make this
the epicenter of the papal map...

and then you could be cardinal after all.

What would that make you?
Surely not the Pope?

No, that's too dull. Satan, perhaps.

- That's more interesting.
- And more powerful.

Every heaven needs one,
just to stay in business.

You argue like a Jesuit.

Isn't it true?
Without Satan, there's no struggle.

And it's the struggle that keeps us alive.

No. What keeps us alive
is the point of that struggle:

The hope of attaining perfection.

If by perfection, you mean heaven...

But you have to die
to get there, don't you?

Sometimes, I think you're after my soul.

I am...

unless it's already been taken.

- Meggie, fetch the milk, will you?
- Yes, Mom.

Fiona, you are hopelessly old-fashioned.

If you don't raise your hemlines
and stop wearing all those petticoats...

you're going to die in this heat.

Where did you get this furniture
and this spinet?

The furniture was my grandmother's.

She taught me how to play.

What was your maiden name?

My father's name
was Roderick Armstrong.

My dear Fiona...

the Armstrongs are practically
New Zealand's first family.

You have come down
in the worid, haven't you?

I don't think so.

You're better born than we Clearys,
if I do say so.

The only thing I had going for me
when I came to Australia...

was a face, figure, more brains
than any woman's supposed to have.

But it got me Michael Carson.

You've done very well, Mary.

He doted on me till the day he died.

You ought to know what it is
to have the love of a good man.

Michael was rich,
but he was a bit of a fool.

- Paddy's not a fool.
- No, but he's penniless.

Can you really have loved him enough
to give up your place in society?

My reasons for what I do are my own.

I do not discuss them.

Can I help, Frank?

Not likely. These beasts
would gobble you up...

right along with this kangaroo meat.

Stop it, you bloody beasts!

Stop it!

- Shoot them, Frank!
- Shoot them?

Don't worry.

What's the trouble here?

Daddy, Aunt Mary says the dogs
have got to be shot.

All right, darling.

- You go on about your work.
- Yes, Daddy.

Get the gun.

I am not going to shoot those dogs.
They were just fighting a little.

Just fighting?

Today, those two fight.
Tomorrow, they all turn wild.

We'll have a paddock full of sheep
with their throats torn out.

There's no room here
for anything wild, Frank.

Those dogs are here to work and to obey.

Just like me, right?

That's all I do around here, work and obey.

That's right.

And as long as I'm your father,
that's what you will do.

Now get the gun.

Yes, Daddy.

Hello, Meggie.

Now don't you go telling her majesty
I fired up this engine.

It's only to be used at shearing time.

Pete!

I thought you boys
wanted to learn shearing.

If you're not a fine pair of jackaroos!

Never saw a machine shears...

and here you'll be cockies
of the whole place one day.

That steam engine runs it?

It runs the shears,
turns the grinding wheel...

works the wool dumper,
and it'll boil the billy for your tea.

I bet I could even beat Daddy with these.

Nobody can beat Daddy.

He was the fastest man with the
hand shears in all Wahine, New Zealand.

Aren't you to be fetching the milk?

I never was a gun shearer myself
but I can teach you right enough.

I brought a few sheep in to practice on.

Get out here, you brainless dummy!

You're about to be made an example of!

Bob, get yourself a sheep.

The fastest bladesman I ever saw...

was old Hee Sing, a Chinaman.

He could ring any shed in the country,
could old Hee Sing.

Get in there.

Finished.

What do you think, Pete?

Bob, I'd say you're a champion shearer...

Thanks, Pete!

...in the making.

All right, Stuie.
Now just walk right straight toward him.

Slowly.

That's it.
Look him right straight in the eye.

That's... No, don't look at me.
Look at him.

Why do you think I sent you in there?

That's it.

Lay off, will you? The poor kid's only 11.

Go on, Stu.

- God...
- You stay out of this.

No son of mine is gonna be scared
of any animal in this place.

That's it, Stu. Go ahead.

- You think that's funny?
- Stop it! Frank!

Get back to work, all of you.

You pull a trick like that again,
and I'll take a stock whip to you.

Will you, now? Come on, then.

Come on then, now's your chance.

You've fought and scrapped
and acted like a savage your whole life.

I'll not have it anymore, not here.

Now get back to work.

Hello, Meggie. I've been looking for you.

- What's wrong?
- Nothing.

I never get to do anything.

The boys got to ride all the way out
to the far paddock with Pete.

They won't even let me on a horse.

Maybe your mom doesn't think
it's safe for you.

She doesn't even know I'm alive.

She doesn't care about
anyone except Frank.

But I'll tell you one thing, Father.

When I'm grown up, I'm never gonna love
one of my children more than the others.

Here, let me help you.
What are you doing, anyway?

Cleaning out this drain
so we can get water to the sheep.

You really ought to be in a school.

Wouldn't you like that?

Yes. But they need me to help.

Anyway, I guess I don't need school
just to live here on Drogheda.

But you do.

When your family inherits Drogheda,
you'll be a proper young lady.

You need to be prepared for that.

Who knows. You might not even want
to spend your life here.

Because big as Drogheda is,
it's only a tiny corner of the worid.

There's so much else out there...

so many other lives you might choose...

so many opportunities for you.

Do you ever wish that you could go out
and see the worid?

I'm a priest, wee Meggie.
I must go where the Church sends me.

Let's see if this works.

We did it.

Come on.

I'll take you back to the house.

There are some things
I want to talk to your Aunt Mary about.

I sometimes wonder that we trouble
building and mending fences.

The rabbits tunnel under them...

the kangas jump over them,
the wild pigs charge right through them.

Look at this hellish wasteland.
A man would wonder anything could live.

It's not like home.

Home was just as green as anything.

You'll see a bit of green
when the rains come...

if they come.

No, it's sheep
that have turned this land into desert...

and man.

I'd say that rabbit's as safe
as houses at this rate.

- This is life.
- Good God, boy!

I'll tell you what life is.

Life is what you just
poured into the ground.

- Sorry, Pete.
- You'll learn.

You must know, no matter
how much you love the outback...

she'll find a dozen ways
to kill you before sundown.

What is it, boy?

What are you smelling now?

- What is that thing?
- Jack, hold that dog.

It's a wild pig, a boar.

- Let's get him.
- No.

Stuart, get down from there!

- I want to shoot at him.
- No.

He's too far away.

If you shoot at a wild boar, believe me,
you'd better kill him...

or he'll kill you.

Damn!

- Come on, lads.
- But...

Stuie, no!

Thanks, twerp.

- What's my best girl been up to today?
- It was so nice, Frank.

Father Ralph came to see me.

Meggie, he came to see everyone.
Set the table.

Yes, Mom.

- Here, Mom, let me.
- It's all right, son.

You know how Daddy feels
about you boys doing women's work.

I want you to get along with Paddy
a little better.

Hello, Paddy. Boys not with you?

They're out with Pete.

Should've been in by now.

That smells good, Mother.

Frank, I'm about finished
classing the ewes.

Tomorrow you're to start
for the far paddocks...

and begin mustering
the rams for breeding.

All right. If you think I can handle it.

I don't know if you can handle it or not.

But the man you were skincracking
to fight today has quit!

So you can do his work for him.

Best put him up plenty...

of tucker and a good bedroll,
he'll be out a while.

Never mind, Mom, I'll do it.
You've got enough to do already.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- Look at her.

She's so tired,
now she can't even see straight.

You may think you can treat us
like slaves, but not her!

She's not some ignorant
clodhopping yokel.

Like me? Go on, say it.

Your mother might as well see
how much respect you've got for me.

I'm sorry, Daddy.

Daddy, wait till you hear...

- Stuie shot a boar!
- A boar?

He was huge, the ugliest devil
you ever saw. He killed the dog.

Stuie just stepped up
as nice as you please and...

- Bob, let Stuie tell it.
- I can't believe it.

We were farmers, you know,
back in Galway.

One day, my dad told me to fetch
a breeding bull from the next farm up.

We were too poor to have one of our own.

I tried, but that old bull was a killer.

I had to come back without him.

My dad called me
a good-for-nothing coward.

He said he'd show me how to fetch a bull.

I felt so bad, I sat down and cried.

After a while, I looked up...

and here come my dad down the lane.

He had a rope in his hand all right,
but there was no bull at the end of it.

He just walked right on by me.
Never said a word at all.

But he never called me
a coward again after that.

For thy bounty
which we are about to receive...

for the beauty of earth and sky...

and for the blessings
of the children thou hast given us, Lord...

let us be truly grateful.

Amen.

You're a beautiful woman, Fee.

Paddy, I...

Mary thought I might be more comfortable
in lighter clothes.

- You told her about the baby, then?
- No.

Isn't Stuie something, though?

Whatever you said to him
made him so happy.

Well, that's one, anyway.

I'm sorry I lost my temper again
with Frank.

No, he was very wrong.

There's just something about him
I don't understand. Something...

wild.

But what he said
about how hard you have to work...

it's true.

I know this is still not the life
you should have, but...

- Someday.
- Don't talk someday, Paddy.

You've given me as much
as any woman could possibly hope for.

What are we going
to name this baby, anyway?

- It smells like eggs again.
- It's the brimstone.

Father Ralph says hell must be like this.

Twerp.

What are you doing out of bed?

You shouldn't be.
You'll be leaving early in the morning.

It's too hot to sleep.

What is it?

You've been moping around all week.

I don't want to go away to school
and leave you.

Silly goose.

Gillanbone's only 40 miles away.

- Father Ralph will be there.
- Yes, that's so.

I'll miss you.

And Mom really needs me here to help.

Sit up for a minute and listen to me.

They always preached to us
to work together for the good of us all.

How we must never think
of ourselves first.

You've got to think of yourself
because they never will.

Yes, they do.

It was Daddy who said
I could go to school.

Because Father Ralph insisted.

He fixed it so Aunt Mary would pay
for you, the tight-fisted old witch.

I want you to go...

do you hear?

I want you to go.

Run along, boys.

Poor Meggie. Such a hard time fitting in.

- How's our little project coming?
- Almost finished. Excuse me.

Hold your hands out, please.

Your hands, Meghann Cleary.

We're still biting them, are we?

Yes, Sister.

All right.

Turn them over.

That will do, Sister. Thank you.

Come along, Meggie.

I'm sorry, Father.

Are you going to send me
back to Drogheda?

That's up to you.

- Do you want to go back?
- No. I love school...

and being here with you.

But Sister Agatha...

I think she understands
a little better now, don't you?

The convent isn't really
a very homey place for you.

In fact...

Annie and I have been thinking that...

what you need
is your very own, special place...

here, with us.

- Would you like that?
- Could i? Honest?

Come on.

Why do you tug so at my heart?

Why do you fill that space God can't fill?

Frank.

I thought you could use some company.

Your mother says
you've been alone out here for weeks.

Not long enough.

How's Meggie?

She's doing beautifully in school.
She sends her love.

We've got to get this lot in.

The monsoons are coming.

Why did you become a priest?

Because I love God.

And I want to help others feel his love.

Why do you ask me?

Because you don't act
much like a priest to me.

Being out here gives me...

an escape from my priestly duties
at the parish.

I need that, I'm afraid.

I can understand that, right enough.

Stuck out here in this...

hellish place.

- No picnic, is it?
- No, it's not.

The Church has such power, Frank.

Or rather, God has,
working through the Church.

The power to shape
the lives of millions of people...

to change the whole course of history.

And I want to be a part of that.

I try to hold the thought
that even out here...

I do share in that power...

but sometimes I find it very difficult.

Then why don't you escape?

Why do you put up with it, a man like you?

You could be anything
that you wanted to be.

YetI'd give up every ambition...

every desire in me,
to be the perfect priest.

- "The perfect priest."
- How can I explain?

I'm a vessel...

and sometimes I'm filled with God.

If I were a better priest...

there would be no periods of emptiness,
no need to escape.

I would always be filled with God.

That, to me, would be perfection.

Nobody can be that perfect...

- Not even you.
- Perhaps me least of all.

I haven't found it easy, anyway,
to keep my vows...

to forgo the love
of a woman or of money...

or to be obedient.

That's been the hardest for me, obedience.

But I've learned to obey.

This place has taught me that.

Maybe I should become a priest.

I'd qualify all right.

No woman, no money, and...

oh, do I obey.

"Yes, Daddy. No, Daddy.
Quite all right, Daddy."

Why do you put up with it?

Because I can't get away from him.

But you're 22 now.
He can't hold you anymore.

He'll hold me till I die.

No, Frank. You're a man...

and past the age
when another man can hold you.

If you're held, it's by something else...

or someone else.

Mom.

It's so beautiful.

I've been so worried about you.

Out there for weeks in this storm.

God.

He's got you pregnant again.

He just can't leave you alone, can he?

This is no different from the way
you came into the worid.

- It deserves the same respect.
- Respect?

When he paws at you
like a dirty old goat that he is?

He is my husband!

When you insult him, you insult me.

I'm not the Blessed Virgin.

I'm not pure, untainted, and holy.

- I'll end up killing him.
- Then you'll kill me as well.

No!

I'll free you!

I can never be free.

I don't want to be free.

God.

Mother.

Look at yourself!

Look at your life. The waste!

You don't belong with him!

Son, you're a man now.

You've got to stop
thinking about me so much.

You need a wife.

It's time.

- Father, you're a sight!
- I should've come around back.

It's quite all right. Leave your things here.
I'll collect them later.

Thank you, Mrs. Smith.

You are the most beautiful man
I have ever seen, Ralph de Bricassart.

But, of course, you already know that.

Curious how you view us mortals
with contempt...

for admiring that beauty.

And yet you would use it
without compunction...

to get whatever you wanted,
wouldn't you?

- I thought it was my soul you were after.
- It is.

Because at my age, officially...

I'm supposed to be beyond
the drives of my body.

And one mustn't expect miracles...

even from you.

How many women have loved you?
Besides your mother?

Did she love me?

I don't know.

She ended up hating me.

Because you didn't need her.

Because I needed God more.

Interesting.

And now...

Now you can't need any woman...

can you, Cardinal de Bricassart?

Father, I'm so glad you're back.

Father, what's wrong?

I'll never have what I want!

Never be what I want!

And I don't know how to stop...

wanting!

It's all right, Meggie.

It's all right.

It's just that sometimes,
God's lessons are very hard for me.

Like Sister Ag and her ruler.

Yes.

Come on.

It's cold in here.

Good day.

You'll spoil your dinner.
No, thank you. Not for me.

Let's see if we can find your family.

Come over here.

And now, ladies and gents,
it's my pleasure to present...

the Queen of the 1921 Gillanbone show:
Miss Judy Sutton.

Good on you, Judy.

Bless my beads, it's the good Father.

- Congratulations, Judy.
- How about a kiss for Miss Gilly?

Come on, give me something
to confess on Sunday.

I mustn't make my best girl jealous,
now, must i?

Around and around she goes...

the Wheel of Fortune. Step right up.

Make way. Coming through.

All right. Have yourselves a good time...

but stay out of the pub.

- Thanks, Daddy.
- Let's go find Pete and unload the rams.

Here, son.

- Daddy! Frank!
- Meggie, me love!

Hello. Look at you in your uniform.

Where's Stuie? Where's Mom?

With the baby due so soon,
we thought Mom best not travel.

Stuie stayed home with her.

Come here.
Stuie's been aching to see you.

Never mind. We'll buy him
something nice with this money, all right?

Hello, Aunt Mary.

- Father.
- Mary, you're looking splendid.

Will you be staying over?

I'd rather hoped you'd invite me
to stay at the rectory.

- You could stay in my room.
- Your room?

- I thought you were at the convent.
- No.

Father Ralph gave me my very own room
right next to his.

You're very welcome to stay.

My housekeeper will be happy
to share her room with Meggie tonight.

No, thank you.
I wouldn't want to disturb all your little...

arrangements.

Nice bit of riding, Alastair.

- Congratulations, that's a fine horse.
- Thank you, Mary.

Angus, this is my brother, Paddy Cleary.

- Angus MacQueen and his son Alastair.
- How do you do, sir?

This is my aunt, Sarah MacQueen.

- Mr. Cleary, ma'am.
- Hello.

Sarah, how is Melbourne these days?

I hardly know...

I've been in Palm Beach
most of the season.

And then, Hawaii.
Of course, one longs for the Continent...

but it's still impossibly depressing
since the War.

Paddy, would you get me
some more champagne, please.

Excuse me, ma'am.

Sorry, ma'am.

As it turned out, they were all six of them.

You look as though
you could use a real drink.

- Hello, Mr. Gough.
- None of that "Mr. Gough" stuff.

- Harry to you.
- Well, Harry then.

I'm feeling a proper fool
and that's the truth.

If Fee was here, she could hold her own
with this lot, but I'm...

Our squatters like to lay it on, don't they?
Hoity-toity.

Helps them forget their grandfathers
were burned in the hand...

and sent here in prisoner ships.
But you should get used to them.

You'll be leader of the whole flock one day.

Don't tell me.

Let's get cracking while the pub's
still open. We close early these days.

- I'd like to, but Mary wanted some...
- Champagne for Mrs. Carson.

Be grateful we don't have Prohibition
like the Yanks.

Here it is, gents,
Jimmy Sharman's famous boxing troupe.

The worid's greatest fighters.

Plus a purse to be had by any chap
brave enough to have a go.

Look, they're in their drawers.

Come on, step right up.
Five minutes before fight time!

Come on lads. Who'll take it for a fiver?
Last chance.

Here we go!
Five minutes left before the fight.

Come on lads. Who wants to win a five?
Look at their size, you can do it.

- I will.
- You will? Come right up!

Frank, no.

We have a taker. A brave lad.
Come on, step up here, sir.

Here's a pair of gloves for you.

What are you laughing at?
It's not the size of the dog in the fight...

but the size of the fight in the dog.
Is that right?

Come on, go right inside.

- Come along, Meggie.
- No. I wanna stay.

I can't let you. Your father would flay me
alive, and rightly. Come along.

I wanna stay with Frank!

Buy your lady some fish and chips
and a glass of ale.

What do you have to lose?
You work harder on the farm.

Come on, let's go.

This brave young lad is Frank Cleary.

Break!

Look, I won.
I fought four fights, and I won.

It was too scary.

You didn't let her see it, did you?

Short of binding and gagging the child,
I couldn't see how to keep her away.

Don't be angry.
She's been upset enough already.

You mustn't ever let Daddy know
you were there...

you understand me?

You really won?

Frank, didn't you hear me
shouting after you?

You were supposed to meet...

Dear God, look at him, will you?

I'm searching all over for you,
and you're off picking fights again.

Not fighting. Boxing.

I beat four
of Jimmy Sharman's champions.

Champions. A bunch of
punch-drunk old has-beens...

from a country show.

I made myself f20. That's more
than Aunt Mary pays you in a month.

F20 and the respect of every man present.

Respect!

Why don't you grow up?
For your mother's sake if nothing else.

For her sake? You stinking old he-goat.

After what you've done to her.
You couldn't leave her alone.

- Couldn't keep your hands off her.
- Don't you speak to me like that.

I'm her husband.

You're nothing better than
a ram in rut is what you are.

You're no better than the bastard
who fathered you, whoever he was.

God. I didn't mean that, Frank.

Frank, I didn't mean that.

You meant it.

Let me go, Father.
I won't touch him, so help me God.

So help you God.

God rot your souls, both of you.
If you've ruined that child, I'll kill you.

I should've let you kill each other,
you miserable self-centered cretins.

Son...

what I said, it's not true.

No.

I've always felt it.

I've always known that you came
after me...

that she was mine first.

I've always blamed you for dragging
her down all these years.

It was me.

No, Frank.

It's not your fault.

Sometimes, God's ways
are hard for us to understand.

Your preaching makes me want to puke!

Never mind.

Never mind. I'm going.
And I won't be back.

You can't go away.

What'll I tell your mother?

You mean more to her
than all the rest of us put together.

She'd never forgive me.

God in heaven, Paddy.

What possessed you to tell him?

God. Why aren't you older
so that I could explain this to you.

Meggie.

Twerp.

That argument that Daddy and I had...

is just a kind of a sign that it's time
for me to be going on my own.

But you mustn't tell Mom about it,
do you hear?

Aren't you going to tell Mom goodbye?

I'll write to her. She'll understand.

Where are you going, Frank?

You know the money I won for boxing.

The man who owns the whole troupe,
Jimmy Sharman...

he wants me to be
one of his regular fighters.

- Really?
- Think of that.

I'll travel around the whole country
and see things you've never dreamed of.

I wish you'd take me with you.

Will you, Frank?

No. What kind of life
would that be for you?

You must stay here
and learn to be a great lady.

Because you know something?

You're going to be all grown up
sooner than you know.

Why don't you love me anymore?

- I do love you, Meggie.
- No, you don't.

- You wouldn't leave me if you did.
- My darling Meggie.

No one will ever love you more than I.

Frank!

I was the dairy hand.

I used to see Fee in the distance
walking with Frank.

He was only a baby then.

Then one day, old Roderick Armstrong
came to see me.

He said his daughter
had disgraced the family.

They wanted to send her away
but the grandmother wouldn't hear of it.

Now the old lady was dying,
there was nothing to stop them.

He said...

if I'd marry Fee, take her away...

they'd pay me enough money to set us up.

So you married a lady far above you?

But it wasn't the money, Father.

She was so beautiful.

I wanted to see her safe and not abused.

To me she's beautiful still.

She is indeed.

And in Meggie, I can see
what she must've been like then.

Yeah.

I was frightened to death of her at first.

It took me two years
to get up enough courage...

to be a proper husband to her.

I love her so much, Father.

I know she's never had that feeling for me.

Not even in the most private moments
of our lives together.

But never once in all these years
has she ever...

complained or cried...

or laughed.

How's Meggie?

Father, what in heaven's name
happened here today?

Father, promise you won't ever leave me.

Darling Meggie.

- Meggie, Frank had to leave.
- Why?

Because it hurt him too much to stay.

It'll hurt more without Mom and me...

because we're the ones who love him.

For each of us, there comes a time...

when he must search for the thing
he thinks he needs above all else.

No matter what it costs.

You mean the thing
that'll make him happy?

Happy.

There's a story...

a legend...

about a bird that sings just once in its life.

From the moment it leaves its nest,
it searches for a thorn tree...

and never rests until it's found one.
And then it sings...

more sweetly than any other creature
on the face of the earth.

And singing...

it impales itself
on the longest, sharpest thorn.

But as it dies...

it rises above its own agony...

to out-sing the lark and the nightingale.

The thorn bird pays its life...

for just one song...

but the whole worid stills to listen.

And God in his heaven smiles.

What does it mean, Father?

That the best...

is bought only at the cost of great...

pain.

Thank you, Meggie. What a pleasure
having you do that for me.

I think from now on I'll call you
"Our Lady of the Gates."

How many wretched gates are there
between Gillanbone and Drogheda?

- Twenty-seven, Father.
- Twenty-seven.

And that means
one has to stop and get out...

how many times?

- Fifty-four, Father.
- Well done.

Fifty-four times coming
and fifty-four times going.

Now, if a priest were to travel
between Gilly and Drogheda...

to see his favorite person,
say, once each month...

how many times would he have to stop
and get out during one year's time?

It's all right, Father.

With the baby to take care of,
I'll be too busy to miss school.

Sometimes I long to throw open
all those gates...

and race down the road and never stop.

Just leave all 27 of them gaping open...

like astonished mouths behind me.

Goodbye, Father.

Hello, Mom.

Hello, Meggie.

Mom, Hal's beautiful.

Father de Bricassart,
how very nice to see you again.

Why did you do it, Mary?

When the dress on your back could pay
her tuition for the rest of the year!

Ralph, I don't believe
I've ever seen you so...

impassioned.

I thought it best to take Meghann
out of school.

Fee is not well. She needs the help.

Why do you dislike Meggie so much?

She's a beautiful, intelligent little girl...

and yet no one
seems to give a rap about her!

Which means you can be sure of her love.

And it's all so innocent and so safe
for you, isn't it?

No danger to your reputation...

no threat to those
not-so-holy ambitions of yours.

Mary, this is unworthy even of you.

I am, after all, a priest.

You are a man first, Ralph de Bricassart.

No, Mary. A priest.

First, last...

and always.

Coming along beautifully, Meggie.

This time next year, you'll be ready
for the horse trials at the Gilly fair.

But then, Father, by this time next year,
you could be in Rome.

Poor little Hal.
I think he's a mite feverish, Meggie.

Mrs. Smith, please take the children...

in the kitchen for tea.

You have heard the news?

The Pope has decided that Australia
should have its very own cardinal.

I didn't know
you stay current with church politics.

But it's so intriguing, don't you think?
His Holiness is sending a papal legate...

to search the length and breadth
of this land...

to find a man worthy enough
to wear the biretta.

Now, that's like Cinderella.

Mary, much as I love sparring with you,
it's time we made a truce.

A truce?

The priest confesses.

It's true I once had ambitions.
Great ambitions...

which I thwarted by my own
stupid lack of humility.

Then I was sent here.

Here you were. A good Catholic,
with Drogheda and no heirs...

or so I thought.

And you thought,
"My ticket to the Vatican."

Put with typical cruelty
but perhaps not undeserved.

The point is, I've changed...

and it's largely you I have to thank for it.

Me?

When you made the Clearys your heirs,
you dashed all my hopes, as you intended.

But it freed me, too,
from all my old desires.

Mary, I'm a priest. Only that.

- And content.
- Bravo, Ralph.

I can't remember
when I've enjoyed a performance more.

"All my old desires." That is wonderful.

I'll let you stew a while longer...

but your day of reckoning is coming.
Don't you ever doubt it.

How you do love
the illusi�n of your own power.

- Don't make me pity you.
- Pity me?

Do you doubt I can't make you writhe yet?

Do you think I can't make you sell yourself
like a painted whore...

before I'm finished with you?

I don't doubt you'll try, but take care.

In trying so hard to destroy my soul,
you may lose your own.

- Lf there's still one there to lose.
- Or still one there to destroy!

In a Christian country,
all this commotion would mean rain.

Those grazing lands are dry as chips.

Not a mouthful of grass anywhere.

I reckon we'll be lucky lads if this lightning
doesn't set the range aflame.

Did I ever really say
Drogheda was heaven? Good night.

Daddy, come on. Little Hal is very sick.

- It's very bad, Paddy.
- For God's sake, someone get a doctor!

I phoned from Aunt Mary's.
He's all the way out to Dibben-Dibben.

Bob, get some more sulfur
from the storehouse, will you?

"May Christ receive thee
who hath called thee...

"and may the angels bear thee
unto Abraham's bosom."

Meggie, what is it?

I'm all right.

But you're not. Just talk to me.

There's nothing wrong. Leave me alone!

She's doing it again, Father.

She's been like this
ever since little Hal died.

I know. She won't talk to me, either.

We can't let this go on.

Meggie.

Meggie, listen to me.

You've got to stop this.

I know how much you loved Hal,
but you can't go on grieving this way.

Meggie, please.

You're wasting away before my very eyes.
I can't bear it!

Father, you make me so ashamed.

It's not Hal.

- I mean, I do miss him, but...
- What, then? Are you sick?

- I can't tell you.
- You can tell me anything.

That's what I'm here for.

I'm a priest and I love you
just the way God loves you, wee Meggie.

Father...

I'm dying.

- Dying?
- Just like Hal.

Only it's some kind of tumor
or something, Father.

How do you know this, dear heart?

I get the most awful pains, Father.

And then, there's a lot of blood.

But it's not all the time.

- Just every month or so?
- Yes.

How did you know that?

My precious girl...

you're not dying. You're growing up.

Sorry your mom
didn't explain all this to you.

- She should have, you know.
- You mean Mom does it, too?

All healthy women do, Meggie.
Except when they're expecting a baby...

and then it's needed to nourish the baby
inside their womb.

- You understand?
- Sort of.

Like when it says,
"Blessed be the fruit of thy womb, Jesus"?

That's right.

Do you know...

- What makes babies?
- Of course, Father.

It comes from mating,
like the rams and the ewes.

I've tried to watch them,
but Daddy said I mustn't.

But I've heard the boys talking.

- Isn't that right, Father?
- Yes, but...

See, Meggie,
it's very different with people.

Or it should be.
Because God intended, I think...

that when a man and a woman mate,
they do it...

as a way of showing their love
for each other.

So it's a mating not just of bodies
but of souls.

- It must be so wonderful.
- So I understand.

- Will it be that way for you and me?
- What?

When I grow up and we get married.

Meggie, you know priests can't marry.

- You can always stop being a priest.
- No.

No, Meggie darling.
I can never stop being a priest.

Not ever.

- What about those tarts you promised me?
- Yes, come on.

Father, I'm so glad I'm not dying.

- What would I ever do without you?
- Silly, you'll never be without me.

What would her majesty
be wanting with me at this late day?

Heaven knows. Still a thousand things
to do, and the guests are almost upon us.

I'll take that, Judy. I'm going up anyway.

Come in.

Happy birthday, ma'am.
And if we aren't a picture today.

Thank you, Pete.

But birthdays at our ages
are rather a mixed blessing, aren't they?

What is that?

I was just taking it along to Meggie.
I thought you wouldn't mind...

if the Clearys dressed here...

so as they wouldn't be dust to the waist
from walking.

Good.

That's a pretty color for Meghann.
What do you call it?

Ashes of Roses, ma'am.
It's quite the thing just now.

You will help her dress this evening.

We want her
to look absolutely irresistible.

Has Father de Bricassart arrived yet?

No, not yet.
But your lawyer, Mr. Gough, is here.

Good.

Now, I want you both to watch me sign
this paper...

and then I want you to put your names
beneath mine.

- You can write, can't you, Pete?
- I can manage a little bit.

Fine.

It's just that you are a witness...

that this is indeed my signature...

in case there's ever a question.

Good.

- And please send Harry Gough to me.
- Yes, ma'am.

I'll fetch Mr. Gough.

Why, Mrs. Cleary, you look stunning.

Thank you.

For once, Mary's opened her wallet
wide enough to let the moths fly out.

She doesn't want her poor relations
shaming her on her 75th birthday.

I best get this to Meggie or she'll be late.

Fee.

Why, Paddy...

you look like a diplomat.

Do i?

I feel like an undertaker.

But you...

You look just grand.

Harry, doesn't she look grand?

My dear Fee, you look
like the lady of the manor.

Is that a legal opinion, Mr. Gough?

- Help me with these, will you?
- Yes.

I think they'll do,
even if they're not quite real.

Never you mind.

Some day I'm going to buy you
the finest strand of pearis in all Australia.

Really, it's astonishing how few
interesting men there are since the War.

And that's been 10 years.
I mean, virtually one's whole life.

They're either doddering
or else they're mere children.

Where on earth has Meggie got to?

Mrs. Smith says she's about got her ready.

- That's Stuart Cleary.
- Little Stuie Cleary?

Honestly, Lucy.
Not bad looking, I suppose...

but such a rube like all those Clearys.

Still, he might do for you.

And of course, they'll be frightfully rich
when she goes.

- Father.
- Happy birthday, Mary.

How delightful you look, like a young girl.

You've outdone yourself. This must be
the finest party in the district in 50 years.

Easily. I hope you're staying over...

because I've planned
some real festivities for tomorrow.

I'd be delighted.

- Harry.
- Hello, Father.

- Father, what a delight to see you.
- Good evening, Miss Carmichael.

But you've been dreadfully neglectful,
you know.

Mother was just saying the other day...

that you haven't been
to Beel-Beel for the longest time.

Thank you.

- Hello, Alastair.
- How are you fellows this evening?

Paddy, you remember my sister, Sarah.

Yes, of course. But I don't know
if you've met my wife, Fiona.

Heavens, I would never have dreamed
you were Paddy's wife.

Sarah just returned from the States.

My dears, you can't imagine
what the Crash has done.

Wall Street is a shambles.

People throwing themselves
out of windows.

That can't happen here.
Not with the wool market we've got.

Do you realize how much
this country exported last year?

Good Lord. Who is that?

Excuse me.

- Meggie, you're so beautiful.
- Thanks, Stuie.

I give you Mary Carson.

A dear and generous sister, a great lady...

and queen of this beautiful land
of Drogheda.

May she reign forever.

Thank you all. And thank you, Paddy,
for your words and wishes.

But no one reigns forever.

The time is coming when I must pass
the reign of Drogheda on to someone else.

As we all know,
those of us who have lived here...

and fought the drought and the floods,
and the heat and the cold, and yet...

have managed to prosper...

and become masters of all we survey.

This land can be a heaven...

or a hell.

My fondest wishes
for those who come after me...

is that it be far more one...

than the other.

- Dance with me, Mary.
- No, Father. I'm too decrepit.

Nonsense. I insist.

That was a beautiful speech, Mary.
You made Paddy very happy.

I truly wonder if she isn't getting
a bit senile.

I mean, tricked out exactly like a bride.

So grossly unsuitable.

Someone should've told her
she looks like death in white.

Beauty and the Beast.

He's grinning at her like he didn't care
she left that lot to those Clearys.

Of course, he's too holy for filthy lucre
and suchlike anyhow, isn't he?

Of course, it does make those Cleary boys
more interesting.

- She's a grand old girl, Paddy.
- Aye, that she is.

By the by, I've been meaning to ask...

Mary usually chairs the race committee
for the Gilly show...

but I wonder if you might be interested
in doing the honors this year...

as she's declined.

Thank you, Angus.

- What's the matter? Are you all right?
- Yes, I'm all right.

Let's let others have a chance.

- Of course.
- Please dance.

Cynthia.

I never supposed
we could still dance together, Fee.

How long has it been, do you think?

It's been 30 years in January.

- Now, how can you remember that?
- I remember it very well.

We went to the Century Ball in Wahine
on New Year's Eve.

Frank was just a baby.

Good evening, Meggie.
Will you dance with me?

Thank you, Alastair.

I don't know how to dance.

It's awfully hot for dancing, anyway.

- Perhaps you'd care for some punch?
- Yes, thank you.

Look at the boys, will you.
Standing around shy as kangas.

It's my fault. I should've taught them
a few of the social graces:

How to dance, what to say to a girl.

There's been little time
for anything but hard work all these years.

We're just beginning to realize how many
changes there will be in our lives.

Will it make you happy, Paddy, being rich?

I could never be a rich man, Fee.
Not if I was to have a million pounds.

I wouldn't know how to be.

It's knowing that you'll be living
the way you always should have...

that you'll take your place again.

That's what makes me happy.

Father Ralph, about the bingo.
Patricia wants to put in...

I must take exception to it.
If we could have a little talk...

Father?

- Are you enjoying the party?
- Meggie, yes.

Are you?

Yes, it's a lovely party.

Excuse me, Meggie.

She is lovely, isn't she?

There's not a man in this room...

who wouldn't give up everything
just to have her, is there?

Now, Mary, you're baiting me again.

Not one man, except perhaps you.

Once, a long time ago, I offered you
a chance at the cardinal's robe...

and you turned me down.

But I wonder, if you had to choose
between Meggie...

and the cardinal's robe...

which would you choose?

Mary, what would I have done
without you these past years?

Your wit, perception...

your malice.

Father, why don't you
want to be with me?

Talk to me.

Is there something wrong?

You look lovely, Meggie.

So grown up.

I have to speak to the MacQueens.

Meggie.

What a sweet dress.

Thank you, Miss Carmichael.

Mrs. Smith made it for me.
I helped a little.

Did you?

I'm sure I haven't seen anything like it
in the fashion pages.

You know, I keep expecting to see you
at the horse trials.

Ralph tells me you might become
quite an able rider one day.

Some people are saying
that it isn't quite the thing for him...

to be spending so much time in Drogheda.

It's splendid of Ralph
to take such an interest in you Clearys.

Ralph, you haven't danced with me
all evening.

You must do the black bottom with me.

You always do it so well.

Look, everyone,
Father's going to do the black bottom.

Father, it's time for me to go up.

Please, everybody. It's almost dawn,
but please stay and enjoy yourselves.

Good night, Mary.

- Will you see me up the stairs?
- Of course.

Good night.
It's been a wonderful party, Mary.

Yes, hasn't it?

It was a wonderful party, Mary.
And I hope, a wonderful birthday for you.

My last. I'm tired of living.
I'm going to stop.

Fiddlesticks. You're planning
something special for tomorrow.

- You told me so yourself.
- Yes, I remember.

But I won't see you.

Kiss me goodbye, Ralph.

Mary, good night. Sleep well.

No! On my mouth.

Kiss me on my mouth
as if we were lovers!

- Mary, I am a priest.
- A priest! You're not a man nor a priest.

You're some impotent, useless thing
that doesn't know how to be either!

You're wrong, Mary.
I know how to be a man.

But to be a man on your terms
is to be no priest.

And I have chosen to be a priest.

With the free will God has given us...

and with that same free will,
I have chosen to destroy you, Priest.

I'll go to hell for it, of course...

but it'll be nothing to the hell
I'm planning for you.

It's yourself you'll destroy
with this everlasting hatred of yours.

When Satan tempted Christ
with the whole worid...

is it because he hated him
or because he loved him?

- You don't love me.
- I have always loved you!

So much so, I would've killed you
for not wanting me!

But I found a better method.

No, not love.

I'm the goad of your old age, that's all.

A reminder of what you can no longer be.

Let me tell you something,
Cardinal de Bricassart...

about old age and about that God of yours.

That vengeful God who ruins our bodies...

and leaves us
with only enough wit for regret.

Inside this stupid body, I am still young!

I still feel! I still want!

I still dream!

And I still love you!

Oh, God, how much!

Meggie!

Meggie.

Meggie darling, don't cry.

Here.

Here now, dry your eyes like a good girl.

I don't want it! I'm not a child anymore.

Why don't you just go back
to your dancing?

I know you're not a child.

Anyone can see you've grown
into a beautiful young woman.

You were by far the loveliest girl
at the party tonight.

But that's just the problem.

They all know I come to Drogheda
more often than I need.

If I'd paid you a skerrick
of attention tonight...

it would've been all over the district
in record time.

Don't you see?

- No, I don't see.
- I think you do.

Come here.

Come on.

Now, Meggie.

We've been over this before.

What you mustn't do
is get in the habit of dreaming about me...

in some sort of romantic fashion.

When you're a woman, you'll meet
the man destined to be your husband.

Then you'll be far too busy getting on
with your life to think about me...

except as an old friend...

who helped you through some
of the bad times of growing up.

All right, my Meggie?

Yes, Father.

I understand.

Come on.

- What are you thinking, Father?
- Just about the land.

That it's so beautiful, so pure...

and so indifferent to the fates
of the creatures who presume to rule it.

And what are you thinking,
my dearest Meggie?

Just that I wish
the sun would never come up.

We could stay like this forever.

- Father!
- What is it, Mrs. Smith?

It's Mrs. Carson, Father. She's dead.

Mrs. Smith, we'll have to hold
the funeral right away, with this heat.

Yes, Father.

I've sent Pete down for Paddy
and I've telephoned to the others.

Many of them haven't even
reached home yet from the party, though.

- Father.
- Harry, you've heard?

It's terrible. Terrible.

Father, I must speak to you.

- Can it wait? I have some arrangements...
- Mary's orders. Please.

Fancy the old monster
popping off like that to spite God and all?

She probably did herself in.

Unless it was the devil doing us all a favor.

Crying shame all the ice
got used up last night.

I have here Mary's will.
As you've probably guessed...

she left everything to Paddy
and his family.

She did leave a bit to the Church
and some to you.

Shouldn't the Clearys be here?

Yes, we'll have the reading later,
after the funeral.

Mary gave this to me last night
before the party.

I was to read it to you
the moment I learnt of her death.

Of course, I had no idea then...

Good Lord. It's a new will...

dated yesterday.

But why would she make it without me?

"I, Mary Elizabeth Carson et cetera...

bequeath all my woridly goods
to the Holy Catholic Church of Rome...

on the condition
that she show appreciation...

of the worth and ability of her servant...

Father Ralph de Bricassart...

"and that said Father Ralph de Bricassart...

serve as the chief authority
in charge of my estate."

Congratulations, Father.

You got the lot after all.
All f13 million of it.

F13 million? I...

But what about the Clearys?

They get to stay on as managers.

Decent of her
not to throw them out entirely.

And there's f10,000 a year
for your personal use...

and a note to you.

"My dear Ralph,
how do you like my new will?

"Of course, you can destroy it if you wish.

"It's the only copy,
and my lawyer will never tell.

"No one will be the wiser,
and Meggie will be...

the richer, won't she?

But I know what you'll do.

I know it as surely
as if I could be there watching...

when they give you
that red robe and miter."

Father, listen.

There's no denying
it was Mary's property...

to dispose of in any manner she wished,
and I'm not a Catholic, so forgive me.

But we both know the Church
has no right to the estate.

Please, let's just destroy this.

Let poor old Paddy and his family
have what's rightfully theirs.

- It's so awful.
- Paddy, I'm so sorry.

My poor sister. I can't believe it.

What are we going to do?

I don't know what we're going to do.

We gather here...

shocked and saddened by the
sudden death of our friend Mary Carson.

Yet we take comfort in the knowledge
that in her last hour she was not alone.

Not the greatest nor
humblest living being dies alone...

for in the hour of our death,
our Lord Jesus Christ is with us...

within us, and death is sweet.

We all know what Mary was.

A pillar of the community.
A pillar of the Church.

And it was the Church she loved
more than any living being...

for she understood so well
the words of St. Matthew:

"Where your treasure is...

"there will be your heart also."

Let us pray for her immortal soul...

that she, whom we loved in life...

will enjoy her just and eternal reward.

And as we pray, let us remember
that our Lord is rich in mercy.

And let us not forget...

that we are dust...

and unto dust we shall return.

"By my hand, this 24th day of November...

"in the Year of our Lord, 1929...

Mary Elizabeth Carson, n�e Cleary."

Yesterday.

I won't deny it's a bit of a disappointment.

- Paddy, I want you to contest.
- That wouldn't be right.

It was her money, wasn't it?

If she wanted to leave it to the Church...

And then, 13 million quid...

I wouldn't know how to look after
that kind of money.

You don't understand, Paddy.

There are already hundreds of people
employed to look after it for you.

Please contest.

I'll get you the best KCs in the country.

We'll fight it all the way
to the Privy Council, if necessary.

What do you think?

But we can live on Drogheda anyway
and have this house.

Isn't that what the will says?

No one can turn you off Drogheda so long
as one of your father's grandchildren lives.

What more do we want?

Damn.

I hate to see you cheated.

Fee, I don't know what to do.

All the things I wanted for you.

I don't want
Mary's 13 million pieces of silver.

Well, that settles it.

No, thank you.

- I think it's time we were going.
- They're reading the will.

You don't think I'm going to leave
until I've seen their faces, do you?

Sometimes, I think
you lack human feeling.

Paddy is very grieved about Mary's death.

Still, what is the harm
in congratulating him?

Here they come.

My condolences.

Father.

Please don't think there are
any hard feelings on our side.

Mary was never swayed
by another human being in all her life...

brother or priest.

If she left it to the Church, it was
because you were mighty good to her.

You've been mighty good to us, as well...

and we'll never forget that.

Thank you, Paddy.

Poor Paddy.

The old bitch.

Father?

Father, what is it?

She's won, Meggie.

I've betrayed you.

- Betrayed me?
- She knew me so well.

She knew if she stripped you
of everything, I'd have no choice. But no.

She made sure you'd neither want
for anything nor have anything, either.

All your life, you'll have to look to me.

I don't understand.

You'll be respectable,
even socially admissible...

but you'll never quite be "Miss Cleary."
Never quite be one of them.

I don't want to be one of them.

Be stupid and vicious and cruel
like Miss Carmichael.

- How could you even think of that, Father?
- Meggie, don't call me Father.

I'll be going away, Meggie, soon.

Why?

Don't you see?

It's part of her plan.

I brought in f13 million.

And a holy priest
who's brought in f13 million...

will not be left to languish here
in the back of beyond.

The Church knows how to reward its own.

No.

My Meggie...

it's better this way.

How can it be better...

to take away what I love most
in the worid?

Then better for me.

Better than someday having to marry you
to somebody else.

Better than staying here to watch you
change into something I can never have.

Meggie, when I saw you last night,
I almost hated you.

Hated me?

- For growing up?
- Yes.

When you were a little girl,
you were like my own child to me.

You were the rose of my life.

- I could have you then.
- You can have me now.

You can marry me. You love me.

But I love God more.

I do love you, Meggie. I always will.

But I can't be a husband to you.

If only I could make you understand
what being a priest means to me.

How God fills a need in me
no human being ever could.

Not even me?

I can't!

Goodbye, my Meggie.

Father!

Go on, then.

Go on to that God of yours.

But you'll come back to me...

because I'm the one who loves you.

***END of episode 1***

The saga continues...

as a way of life is threatened.

And forbidden love is given...

You've come back.

...then taken away.

My life belongs to God.

And new desires are ignited...

He was a fool to let you go.

...while ambition lights the road to Rome.

The Thorn Birds continues.

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