Original subtitles

Poor Mr Adamson had no idea we were having a ball at the beginning of his visit.

Your father thought more of his eagerness to see Mr Adamson's specimens

than he did of our own projected entertainment.

Fortunately, he's much of a height with Edgar,

who was able to help him with a suit.

I should've had no dress suit in any event.

All my earthly belongings have burned or drowned or both in the shipwreck.

And they never included a dress suit.

Well, well.

You must be possessed of immense resources of strength and courage.

I'm sure they'll be equal to a turn around the dance floor.

Once learned, a waltz can never be forgotten.

Are you free to dance?

Yes.

My father was so sorry to hear you'd lost so much in the terrible shipwreck.

For your sake and for his own. He was eager to add to his collection.

Well, I did manage to save one or two of the rarest, most beautiful butterflies.

I suppose there's a certain bathos in saving a dead butterfly.

But one in particular is such a rarity...

I'll say no more now, but I believe your father will be glad to have it.

And you too.

But it's to be a surprise, really.

I hate people who tell me I am to have a surprise and will not tell me what it is.

You don't like suspense?

No.

No, I don't.

I am afraid of surprises.

I must remember never to surprise you, then.

Stop, there! How dare you?!

What did you do to her?

I'm so sorry. I've no idea. I can't imagine what I might've done.

Well, something must've happened, mustn't it?

Too much dancing, I'll be bound.

Eugenia loves to dance. She can't get enough of it.

I see.

I am Eugenia's brother, and thereby her protector.

It's nothing.

Good, good.

Well now, more dancing.

Well? Let's have some more dancing.

Please excuse Eugenia's behaviour. She's not feeling herself.

It's of no importance.

Her leaving the ball was no reflection on your behaviour. None at all.

- Well, I hope she'll feel better soon. - Indeed.

Although I'm not sure she will ever be the same again.

She was to be married, you see.

Only her fianc�, Captain Hunt, died quite suddenly.

It was a terrible shock. Poor Eugenia's only just recovering.

We don't talk about it. But everybody knows, of course.

I'm not tittle-tattling. I just thought it might be helpful to you to know.

I see. Thank you very much for telling me.

You are very fortunate to have escaped with your life, and we must be glad of that.

But the loss of your specimens must have been a very severe setback.

What will you do, Mr Adamson? If you do not think it impertinent to ask.

I have hardly had time to think.

Your own family cannot help?

No.

My father's a butcher. And even if he had the wherewithal, I could not ask him.

I'd hoped to sell enough to be able to stay in England, write about my travels,

and perhaps earn enough money to equip myself to return to the Amazons.

We've barely begun to pick up twigs, sir, those of us who've worked there.

There are millions of unexplored miles, countless unknown creatures.

And yet I've never felt more profoundly alone than I did there.

You were so very kind in your letters, sir,

the receipt of which was one of my very few moments of luxury in the forest.

I used to ration the reading so as to savour them longer,

as one rations sugar and flour.

Well, I am glad to have given such pleasure to anyone.

I've brought you something rare. Something very rare.

They fly in the broad, sunny roads in the forest.

They float very slowly, occasionally flapping their wings like birds.

And they almost never come down below 20 feet,

so they are almost impossible to catch.

But I employed some agile little Indian boys,

and they were able to climb up and fetch me this pair.

Now, I must confess I did not know then

how appropriate they were to add to your collection.

They are Morpho eugenia, Sir Harald.

Well!

What a lovely creature.

What a beautiful glittering blue she is.

No, he. It's the male who is blue. The female is the tawny brown.

What a pity.

I prefer the shimmering blue.

But then, I am female, so that is natural.

It is hard not to agree with the Duke of Argyle

that the extraordinary beauty of these creatures

is in itself evidence of the work of a Creator.

A Creator who also gave us human sensitivity to beauty, to design,

to delicate variation and brilliant colour.

From our spontaneous response to them, sir,

I feel instinctively drawn to agree with you.

But, from a scientific point of view, I feel I must ask what purpose of nature's

might be fulfilled by all this brilliance and loveliness.

Mr Darwin, I know, inclines to think that the fact

that it is preponderantly male butterflies and birds that are so brilliantly coloured,

while the females are often drab and unobtrusive,

suggests there's some advantage to the male in flaunting his scarlets and golds

that might help make the female select him as a mate.

Could the drabness of the female be protective?

Oh, yes, definitely. Mr Wallace...

Oh!

Don't worry, my dear.

Forgive me, Mama.

Did you live entirely without the company of civilised people?

Among naked savages?

Not entirely.

I had various friends of all colours and races

during my stays in various communities.

But... yes, sometimes I suppose I was the only white guest in tribal villages.

Are they really naked? And painted?

Some are. Some are partly clothed, some wholly clothed.

They are greatly given to decorating their skins with vegetable dyes.

These floating clumps of twigs and grasses even remind me

of the great floating islands of upturned trees, creepers and bushes

that make their way down the great river.

I used to compare those to the passage in Paradise Lost

where paradise is cast loose after the Deluge.

"Then shall this mount of Paradise by might of waves be moved

Out of his place, pushed by the horned flood,

With all his verdure spoiled, and trees adrift,

Down the great river to the opening gulf,

And there take root an island salt and bare,

The haunt of seals, and orcs, and sea-mews' clang. "

Clever Matty.

Lady Alabaster would be pleased if you would take tea with her

when you've finished your work.

You seem to have undertaken quite a labour of love.

What's that? It looks quite alarming.

It's become detached from whatever specimen it was attached to, I think.

Several parts of several specimens have become detached.

I keep a special box for the most puzzling.

This foot and leg obviously belong to some fairly large quadrumane.

You might suppose they were those of some human infant.

But I can assure you they're not.

The bones are too light.

I must look as if I'm practising witchcraft.

No. I didn't mean to suggest such a thing.

Of course not.

Indeed, I've noticed you take a great interest in the natural sciences.

Everyone seems to be taking an interest in the natural sciences

since your arrival here, Mr Adamson.

Well, it's a worthwhile pursuit, I hope.

My father seems to think so. Which is fortunate for you.

It's saved you from the poorhouse, I'd say.

My origins are humble, but I doubt it would've come to that.

Oh, hopefully not.

Indeed, my father's charity has served you rather well.

Your father's been very kind.

And I'm pleased to be able to repay him by organising his collection

according to scientific principles.

How long will the job take?

Well, that depends on what I find in this mountain of boxes.

Well, then it could take for ever, I'll wager.

Especially since you have nowhere else to go.

I'm so sorry, I must leave now. I have to take tea with Lady Alabaster.

Well, while you're "taking tea" with my mother

and talking about whatever it is that you talk to my father about,

just don't get too comfortable.

You're not one of us.

I am aware of that. Good day.

Come in, Matty.

Mr Adamson is here, Lady Alabaster.

I hope you are comfortable here?

Oh, yes. Very much so.

My husband is not overburdening you with work?

No.

I've a great deal of spare time, in fact. This way...

Lady Alabaster expressed the hope that you might be able to spare a little time

helping Miss Mead and myself

in the scientific education of the younger members of the family.

She feels that they should profit from the presence of so distinguished a naturalist.

Of course I'd be happy to do what I can.

Matty has such good ideas. So ingenious, she is.

Tell him, Matty.

Lady Alabaster's twins are too small,

but I have already taken the three older girls on rambles.

I would be delighted to help.

We shall truly profit from your presence amongst us.

Oh, look!

The queen seems scarcely of the same species as her rapid little servants.

We've attempted to keep these insects before.

We have a deathly touch, it appears. The creatures simply curl up and die.

Well, you probably had not captured a queen.

Ants are social beings. They exist only for the good of the whole nest.

And the centre of that nest is the queen ant,

whose laying and feeding the others all tend ceaselessly.

I'd like to believe humankind capable of such altruistic behaviour.

Though, when I look around me, I think a socialist society may never be realised.

Well, you think a great deal, Miss Crompton, for...

For a woman.

You were about to say "for a woman", and then refrained. Which was courteous.

It's my great amusement, thinking.

Mr Swinnerton, would you be so kind as to help me dismount?

It was wonderful, wasn't it?

1860-253, Ventnor, Isle of Wight, Lystus fulvibabis...

Young Mr Swinnerton wishes to marry my daughter.

I have given permission.

He says he already knows what she will say.

So you must wish me joy.

I do indeed.

The first fledgling out of the nest.

The others must soon follow, in the course of things.

I know they must.

I confess I feel this news is not calculated to improve her happiness,

but perhaps I underestimate her.

Then it is not... Miss Eugenia Alabaster who is to be married?

Oh, no.

I was about to say "Oh, no, alas. "

It is Rowena who is to marry Mr Swinnerton.

Well, she's so beautiful, sir, so very beautiful, and...

well, perfect...

that she cannot be long without finding some worthy partner.

So I believe.

But her mother is concerned.

She will not be pleased if Rowena goes first. It is not right.

Please, I beg you.

Please, I cannot.

I couldn't help noticing you were in distress.

Can I be of help? I will do anything to help if I can.

You're very kind. But I cannot be helped.

I am beyond help.

I wish I were dead, to speak truly.

I wish I were dead.

I ought to be dead.

I ought to be dead... as Harry is dead.

I know about your tragedy, Miss Alabaster. I'm very sorry.

I hope you may be comforted.

Oh, I don't think you do know. Not at all.

No one can.

Well, that must be so.

You've shown great courage. Please, don't be unhappy.

So many people love you, you cannot be unhappy.

It is you who are good and kind.

And brave.

Even though you don't understand.

You've been kind to everyone, even the little girls.

We are lucky to have you here.

And I would feel lucky, and honoured,

if you would feel you could let me be your friend, despite the differences between us.

If you could trust me a little...

I don't know what I'm talking about. Why should you trust me?

I want so much to do something for you. Anything at all.

I own nothing, as you know, so it's all folly.

But please, command me if I can help in the least way ever.

Miss Alabaster?

Miss Alabaster?

So? What is it?

I have something to show you.

You'll have to come in quickly, now.

Am I safe?

You'll be quite safe.

They take your dress for the sky itself.

You don't find them disagreeable?

Oh, no.

They are... so light, so soft.

Like coloured air.

It's almost a cloud.

It is a cloud.

You are a miracle-worker.

Well, it's for you.

I have nothing real to give.

No pearls, no emeralds. I have nothing.

But I wanted so much to give you something.

They are so terribly fragile.

You could hurt them just by touching.

One careless pinch would be enough.

I would never hurt one of those. Never.

How can I thank you?

You've already done so with your appreciation.

Would you come back again this evening?

Yes.

Your moths are trying to perform suttee.

I don't know why they're so driven to make burned offerings of themselves.

I've wondered if they navigate by moonlight

and mistake our candles for very bright heavenly bodies.

Won't you sit down? And see if the moths think you are the moon?

As the butterflies took you for the flowers and the sky.

- What is that? - It's a newly hatched hawk moth.

A female.

In a little time, when she's strong, I'll take away the cage and release her.

She seems very weak.

Aye.

Takes a great deal of force to break out of the pupa.

Insects are at their most vulnerable at the moment of metamorphosis.

They can easily be snapped up by any predator.

- There are none here, I hope. - Oh, no.

Good.

How lovely it is in the moonlight.

This is what I promised myself for making you a cloud of butterflies.

Don't answer this, and don't feel that I speak to alarm you.

I only want to say that you cannot know how much these moments mean to me.

I shall remember them always.

Your closeness, your calm...

If things were only different, I might say quite different things to you.

But I know how the land lies.

I've no hopes, except perhaps to be able to speak briefly and honestly to you,

for I do not see how that could hurt you.

Oh...

Oh, take them away.

I don't like these!

They're male hawk moths, drawn by the female in some mysterious way.

- Get them away. - They're harmless.

- Get them away! - There's no reason to fear them.

Please...

I'll carry her to the other end of the conservatory.

- Now they'll follow her and leave you. - There is another, trapped here!

Quickly. I shall scream.

- Please... Please... - Must be the scent.

Oh, that was terrible. That was terrible.

It was like bats. Like ghosts.

- It was foul. - Shh...

I didn't mean to frighten you.

My dear. I didn't mean to...

It isn't you.

It is everything.

I'm so unhappy.

Is it because of Captain Hunt? Do you still grieve for him so?

He didn't want to marry me.

He died because he didn't want to marry me.

That must be nonsense. Anyone would want to marry you.

It wasn't really an accident, you know. That is only what they say.

He did it because...

because he didn't want to marry me.

- Why didn't he? - How should I know? Only it is so.

It is just clear to me that he didn't...

You torture me saying this.

My dearest wish in the world, as you must know...

would be to be able to ask you to be my wife.

Which I can never do, because I cannot support a wife, or even myself.

I do know that.

But it's unbearably painful to me to hear you speaking like this

and not be able myself...

I do not need to marry a fortune.

I have one of my own.

What are you saying?

There could be a double wedding.

I should not be married after Rowena.

Not... not if I am to be married at all.

Shall I speak to your father? Tomorrow?

Yes.

Arms up, please, Alice. Arms up.

Then, with all the wagers on,

I drove the gig through narrow gaps in seven hedges.

And only one wheel fell off, and that was right at the very end.

And the horse wanted to go on.

But with all the fences behind us, there was no further point.

You, sir, must not have the nerve or the strength to do such a thing.

You sit there and you smile fatuously, but you could not bring such a thing off.

No doubt I could not.

I don't like your attitude, sir. I have never liked it.

I believe you sneer in your heart.

I do not mean to sneer.

Since we are to be brothers, I hope I would not give such an appearance.

"Brothers", you say?

I don't like that.

You are underbred, sir, and you are no good match for my sister.

There is bad blood in you, vulgar blood.

I do not accept either "bad" or "vulgar".

I am aware that I'm no good match, and that I have few prospects and no future.

Your father and Eugenia have done me the kindness of overlooking that,

and I hope you may come to accept their decision.

You should rather wish to fight me. I insulted you.

You are a miserable creature without breeding or courage.

You should stand up, sir, and face me.

I think not.

As for breeding, I count my father as a kind man, an honest man,

and I know no other good reason for respect.

As for courage, I think I may claim that to have lived for ten years on the Amazons,

to have survived murder plots, snakes, shipwreck,

15 days on a lifeboat in the mid-Atlantic,

reasonably compares with driving a poor horse into a house through a window.

I think I know what true courage is.

It does not consist in fisticuffs as a response to an insult.

Well said, William Adamson. Well said, my fellow bridegroom.

You shall not have her! Do you hear?

She is not for such as you.

Please do not breathe in my face. You resemble an angry dragon.

Stand up.

You shall not provoke me into disgracing a house and a family I hope to belong to.

Stand up.

In the Amazons, young men who make themselves stupid with spirits

often kill each other inadvertently.

I should not care if you were killed.

Eugenia might care very deeply if I were. She's already lost one hus...

I beg you not to... make too much of Edgar.

He is wild in his cups and he is quiet after.

He often does not remember what has passed.

It was the drink insulted you.

I'm happy to accept such an explanation.

Good man, fellow bridegroom.

Civilised man.

We are not armed warriors now, are we?

Civilised men who stay seated as we should, we are.

I admire you, William.

Edgar is... an anachronism.

You didn't think I knew that word, I'll be bound.

On the contrary.

Thank you for your kindness.

William.

We are both men of the outdoors. We have that in common, do we not?

We do.

And I hope that in time we may come to find other common interests.

Indeed. I'm sure we will.

Good night, Edgar.

Good night, William.

A present from Miss Eugenia, sir.

Well?

Here I am. You see?

Here we are.

I cannot believe my own happiness.

Well, you will catch cold if you cannot believe it enough to come in.

I've loved you from the first moment that I saw you.

I don't want to hurt you.

Oh, you're honey.

Sweet as honey.

We're going to be so happy together.

- Good morning. - Morning.

- Hope I don't disturb you. - By no means.

I'm conducting experiments. You'll no doubt find my researches crude.

On the contrary. What is it that you're studying?

I've been placing various foods upon the surface of the earth in the tank,

counting the ants who avail themselves of the food, and how they dispose of it.

And look.

They are greatly attracted to fragments of grape and melon.

It's taken half an hour for this scrap of sweet fruit

to become no more than a living pincushion.

You cannot but admire the spirit of cooperation.

I hope my Formica prima hasn't drowned. She hasn't stirred for quite ten minutes.

You're at the point of recognising individual ants?

May I see your book?

You put me to shame, Miss Crompton.

I've been secretly worrying about the cutting short of my hoped-for researches

into the insect life in the Amazon basin.

My present good fortune...

And here you are, doing what I should be doing:

Observing the unknown world which is to hand.

My sphere is naturally more limited. I... naturally look closer to hand.

- Good night, sir. - Good night, Arthur.

I believe we can expect a happy event.

I believe I am with child.

Congratulations, my dear. Congratulations.

That's wonderful news.

Yes, you look quite different. A new creature.

You look wonderfully mysterious.

I... am a little peaked. I do not quite feel myself.

I am somewhat nauseous. No doubt quite naturally.

Poor Eugenia. It's so hot.

I must confess, I'm quite uncomfortable. I shall be until the baby arrives.

Oh...

I don't like these ants. Please, have them go away!

I think the Formica fusca have chosen today for their annual nuptial dance.

Like cygnets. You're like swan's-down and they're like cygnets.

They do not seem to resemble me at all.

They will, you know.

I've seen ever so many babies, and they change from week to week.

Even from day to day.

Resemblances run across their little faces like clouds.

Papa today, Grandpapa tomorrow, Aunt Ponsonby on Tuesday,

and Great-grandmama at Friday dinnertime.

It's because they're so soft, the dears.

So plastic.

You'll suddenly see your own chin on Agnes.

And one or other of your grandmothers smiling out of Dora's eyes.

I'm sure you're right.

What are you doing?

When I come down, the scullery's arun with creatures, sir.

I have to set traps at night.

You put molasses in a tin and they fall in and can't right themselves.

Then I have to pour boiling water on them.

You'd be amazed how quick they come back, no matter how many you kill.

I hate the smell.

I beg your pardon.

And an eight.

A little cherub. Yes, that's exactly what you are.

A beautiful baby. Yes, you are.

My turn?

Thank you, Nurse.

A six.

Can't we keep them down? I should so like to hold them a little longer.

Rowena dear, there is tomorrow too.

Nurse has to feed and ready them for bed now.

I so rarely hold a baby.

My dear Rowena.

Your turn, Rowena.

Rowena...

Eugenia, please, let me go to her. I think it would be better.

Yes.

You and William are so blessed.

Two beautiful children, and another expected.

It is very hard for Rowena.

You are so blessed.

It was incredible. The people in the train waved and cheered as we overtook them.

And we went on for a good three miles.

But for the river, we could have gone on for longer.

No, there's no future in locomotives. Give me a purebred Arab stallion any day.

For speed and strength, the Arab is unmatched.

No, there is no substitute for pure blood, Robin.

Keep the breeds separate and you can't go far wrong - that is the cardinal rule.

God made creatures distinct. It is our job to keep them that way.

Am I not right?

Well, a breed, like a dialect of language,

can hardly be said to have a distinct origin.

Indeed, the evidence is that all horses descended from the same animal.

And if you look at the breed...

Don't be absurd. A drayhorse has nothing in common with an Arab.

There is no blood shared there. They're different, quite different.

And if you knew horses, you'd see that.

It is hard to believe, I agree.

However, you do not need to take my word for it. There's...

Mr Darwin makes his argument very clear in The Origin of Species,

as you would know if you ever took any interest in the important ideas of our time.

Indeed, we need look no further than our own flock of small black sheep

to see that careful breeding with our own flock and that of our neighbours

has produced an entirely new breed.

Father...

Think, Edgar, before you speak.

The boy's name must be... Edgar.

Why?

Why? There is an Edgar in every generation of Alabasters.

My son is not an Alabaster, my son's an Adamson.

And I wish to give my child a name from my own family, however undistinguished.

I do not see why. We do not see your family or speak, or seem likely to do so.

Your family does not come here, and Edgar will not know them, I suppose.

We are your family. And I think you must own we have been good to you.

More than good, my dear, more than good.

- Only I... - Only?

Well, I wish to have something of my own. And my son is my own, in some sense.

We could call him William Edgar.

Not my name, my father's. Robert.

Robert's a good English name.

Robert Edgar.

Abraham!

Methuselah!

I am that I am.

- Moses. - "I am. "

Am! Am!

Oh!

Lesson.

Apple?

Bee.

- What's that? - A crocodile!

No, no - alphabet lesson.

A.

You're so clever.

Belt.

Girdle.

No, zone.

- Oh, well done, Miss Mead. - Miss Mead.

Am-a-zon!

It's very strange.

When I was in the Amazons, I'd wake daily from a dream of mild English sunshine,

of simple and wonderful things such as bread and butter

instead of endless cassava.

Now I wake from dreams of the forest curtain, the movement of the river...

and my work.

You work, I believe, with Sir Harald on his book.

I do, but I'm not really needed.

And my views...

In short, my views do not wholly agree with his.

Perhaps you should write your own book.

No, no, no. I have no settled opinions to advance,

and no wish to convert anyone to my own rather uncertain views on things.

I did not mean opinions. I meant a book of facts.

A book of scientific facts, such as you are uniquely qualified to write.

Well, I have thought about writing a book about my travels.

Such books are very successful, I know,

but all my detailed notes, all my specimens... all lost in the shipwreck.

I've not the heart to invent, even if I could.

But nearer to hand lie things you could observe and write about.

Yes, yes.

You've said this before. I'm certain you're right.

But a detailed scientific study would take many years, much rigour, and I'd hoped...

You'd hoped?

I had hoped to set out again on a foreign journey

to collect more information about the untravelled world.

I wish to do that.

Sir Harald has suggested that he might be sympathetic.

The book I should like to see you write is not a major scientific study,

not the work of a lifetime.

It's a book I think may prove useful and I daresay profitable to you

in the quite near future.

I think, if you were to write a natural history of the ant colonies over a year,

you would have something interesting to the public, and yet of scientific value.

It might be interesting.

- It might be fun. - Fun.

The children could be employed, I'd be proud to assist,

Miss Mead would do what she could...

I see the children as characters in the drama -

there has to be a drama if the book is to appeal to the public.

Why don't you write it yourself? It's your idea.

No, no. I have not the requisite knowledge.

Nor the time. Though I don't know where my days go.

No, I don't see myself as a writer, but as an assistant, Mr Adamson.

If you would accept me I would be honoured.

I can draw, I can write, I can copy if necessary.

I'm extraordinarily grateful to you, Miss Crompton.

I do believe you've transfigured my prospects.

Hardly.

But it may be the answer. With good will and hard work.

What name shall we give to the home of the blood-red slave-makers?

It is a horrible trade.

Never have I wept so over a book as I wept over Uncle Tom's Cabin.

I pray nightly for the cause of President Lincoln.

We could call the nest Bredely Hall. We have lots of servants.

That wouldn't be appropriate, Margaret.

I propose Red Fort. It's warlike and brings in the colour of the sanguinea.

- Yes, that's appropriate. - Red Fort, yes.

"In the spring of 1862, we began the organised ant-watch. "

"The colony was busily preparing for the breeding season. "

"As the red ants set about their task, we set about ours,

observing and recording the colony at work. "

"On our first sentry duty, Edith noticed scuttling worker ants cleaning their nest,

much as human beings spring-clean their houses. "

"Margaret, Elaine and Miss Crompton

carefully mapped out the city and its satellite suburbs. "

"There were numerous entrances,

with well-worn paths winding across the forest floor. "

"The girls illustrated the scene with a column of worker ants

setting forth on a foraging expedition. "

"Miss Crompton's evening watches revealed

that the city was never defenceless against outsiders. "

"Night-time guards were posted behind gates barricaded with twigs and leaves. "

"Not all outsiders were unwelcome. "

"With patient observation, and the help of Miss Mead's umbrella,

we uncovered a thriving population of Nitidulidae. "

"These small beetles live on the fringes of the city,

scavenging after the ants' leftovers. "

"As the weeks passed, we came to understand the ants' activities in Red Fort

as well as any man would know the comings and goings of his own house,

if not better. "

Oh, there you are.

I recruited Amy to keep an eye on the nest of the fusca ants on her afternoons off.

I'm certain your assistance will prove extremely useful, Amy.

Thank you, sir.

Go and join Tom now. Miss Mead and the girls will be here to relieve you later.

It'll do her good to get a bit of fresh air,

having no family and nowhere to go, and earn a few extra pennies.

What would you say to a few cartoon-like illustrations to your text?

Here I've drawn one with a stiletto, and here a helmet and a heavy wrench.

I should think it might add greatly to the human interest.

Goodbye. Enjoy the hunt.

We will.

William? Is that you?

William?

It is you. I could tell by your step.

Are you tired, dear?

Somewhat.

I am stiff from a day in the saddle.

But, my dear, it was wonderful to be out with the hunt again after my confinement.

I do love it so.

You look beautiful, my dear.

Really?

As beautiful as ever?

More beautiful than ever.

The world has changed so much, William, in my lifetime.

I am old enough to have believed in the first parents in paradise.

As a little boy, to have believed in Satan hidden in the serpent

and the archangel, with his flaming sword, closing the gate.

And now I am supposed to believe in a world in which we are what we are

because of the mutations of soft jelly and calceous bone

which goes on and on and on through unimaginable millennia.

A world in which angels and devils do not do battle in heaven,

but in which we eat and are eaten and are absorbed into other flesh and blood.

I shall moulder like a mushroom when my time comes.

And it will be soon.

I shall end my life like a skeleton leaf about to be humus,

a mouse clutched by an owl,

a bull calf going to the slaughter through a gate which leads only to one way -

to blood and dust and destruction.

And then I think: No brute beast would think such things.

No frog, no hound even, would have such a vision of the angel of Annunciation.

Where does it all come from?

Come quick! Come quick!

- Do come! - What's the matter, Amy?

Tom says the ants are coming up in a fizzing great army!

He says come quick, something's up.

I saw them myself. They're like gravy boiling. Do come.

"The great slaving raid took place on a hot afternoon

after several days of frantic activity within Red Fort. "

"We arrived at the nest to see gossiping and seething crowds of red ants

massing for a clearly important event - we knew not what. "

"And then, at some sign, the ants swarmed out of the city from every exit. "

"Was it a little Napoleon who led the call to arms,

or had the heat of the sun alone signalled the ants to act in unison?"

"We followed as the army set out across the forest floor. "

"The rough terrain of twigs and leaves separated the well-organised ranks

into seemingly raggle-taggle brigades. "

"15 yards from their own citadel, the red ants stopped, regrouped,

then descended upon an unsuspecting nest of black ants, the Formica fusca. "

"The black ants sallied forth bravely to beat off the thieves and kidnappers. "

"Waving their antennae, hurrying furiously,

they bit at the legs and heads and feelers of the busy bloody ants. "

"They attempted, sometimes with success,

to grasp the red invaders and bite them to death. "

"The red ants had one purpose only:

To snatch the unhatched black ants from the nest

and carry them in their fine jaws to Red Fort. "

"From that moment on, the fate of the captured black-ant nestlings was sealed. "

"They would live and die as red ants, not as true black ants. "

"They would feed and nourish little blood-red ants,

and in time respond to the sun

by massing to attack their forgotten families. "

"It is as if environment were everything, and inheritance nothing. "

Amy?

I didn't know you had an interest in this little thing.

I don't, not a personal one. But in her general wellbeing.

Ah.

Her general wellbeing.

Tell him, Amy, was I hurting you?

Were my attentions unwelcome, perhaps?

No. No, sir.

I'm quite all right, Mr Adamson. Please.

I think you should apologise, sir, and leave us.

I think Amy should run on. I think she'd do best to run on.

Sir?

Run off, then, child.

I can always find you if I want you.

The servants in this house are none of your concern, Mr Adamson.

You do not pay their wages, and I'll thank you not to interfere with them.

That little creature's no more than a child. One who's not had a proper childhood.

Nonsense. She's a nice little packet of flesh.

And her heart beats faster when I reach for it.

And her little mouth opens sweetly and eagerly.

You know nothing, Adamson.

I've noticed that you know nothing.

Go back to your beetles and your creepy-crawlies.

I won't hurt the little puss, you can believe.

Just add a little bit of natural spice.

Anyway, it's none of your business. You're a hanger-on.

And I've yet to learn what use you are to the world or anyone in it.

I told you, I've noticed that you know nothing.

"And what of the fusca ant males?"

"Their fate exemplifies the remorseless random purposefulness of Dame Nature,

of natural selection. "

"They exist only for the nuptial dance and the fertilisation of the queens. "

"They are flying amorous projectiles,

truly no more than the burning arrows of the winged and blindfold god of love. "

"And after their day of glory, they're unnecessary and unwanted. "

"They run hither and thither aimlessly, draggle-winged. "

"They are beaten back, for the most part, from their home nests,

and driven away to mope and die

in the cooling evenings of the late summer and early autumn. "

Very eloquent.

I'm quite overcome with pity for these poor, useless male creatures.

I must admit, I'd never seen them in that light before.

Do you not think you may have been somewhat anthropomorphic

in your choice of rhetoric?

I thought that was our intention, to appeal to a wide audience by telling truths -

scientific truths, but with a note of the fabulous.

Perhaps I've overdone it. I could tone it down.

I'm quite sure you should not. It will do excellently as it is.

It will appeal greatly to the dramatic emotions.

The book is to be delightful as well as profound and truthful, is it not?

I've been making a collection of literary citations

which I thought you might place at the head of your chapters.

I found a wonderful sonnet, by poor mad John Clare,

which suggests that our ideas of fairies are only anthropomorphising of insects.

And I've had an idea to put my little drawings of fairy insects into a book.

A book?

I'm amazed at your accomplishments.

Latin, Greek, draughtsmanship of a high quality,

a thorough knowledge of English literature...

I was educated with my betters in the schoolroom of a bishop.

My father was the tutor, and the bishop's lady kindly intentioned.

- You should publish on your own behalf. - No.

This is for my own entertainment.

The ants, you know, were my muse.

They inspired me.

I'll take it into town on the pretext of looking for new winter boots.

I do not trust that village postmistress not to tell everyone a fat packet has gone off.

We do not wish to attract attention to what may be a fruitless endeavour, do we?

No, when the book is handsomely bound and ready for review,

then we shall be open.

This cushion here. That's better.

Can I have a drink?

Mother?

Mother!

No.

No... No...

Oh, Mother...

Mother!

No...

There.

No.

Good.

"Dear Mr Adamson, you are to be heartily congratulated

upon your ingenious natural history,

just the kind of book of which the world of letters cannot have enough. "

"We are happy you have chosen us as its publishers

and hope we may come to a happy arrangement for a fruitful partnership. "

- I knew it, but I was so afraid. - I can hardly believe it.

We must not be over-sanguine. I have no idea of the profit from a successful book.

Nor I, nor I.

I hardly like to mention it to Sir Harald.

He's in a very bad way with his own project.

He's torn up several sheaves of writing only yesterday.

I don't feel I've given him the support he needs.

Oh, I understand.

Perhaps it's not certain enough to reveal. Perhaps we should keep our own counsel.

I'm quite happy to go on as we are.

The shock - the surprise, I should say - will be all the more complete

when we come to reveal what has been in the making.

Mr William, I can tell you now that you are the father of not one, but two infant girls.

Both living, both doing well.

Hounds, gentlemen, please.

- Mr Adamson! - Whoa, whoa.

Mr Adamson, sir. You have to come back to Miss Eugenia. Please.

Is she ill?

Couldn't say, sir. You has to come back to Miss Eugenia.

- Is my wife well? - I think so, sir.

- Do you know where she is? - In her room, sir, I think.

She told me she was not to be disturbed until after dinner.

Oh!

Get dressed.

Get dressed.

And go. Go now.

Take those, take them in your hand, and anything else, and leave.

I told you to go now!

You too, dress yourself.

Cover up now. Just cover up.

- William... - Dress yourself.

Just dress yourself.

Dress yourself!

It's like a whorehouse.

It's disgusting.

You are disgusting.

I can't put this on without Martha.

Will you help me?

I shan't touch you.

Why don't you just cover yourself? You're horrible to see!

Hurry up!

This...

This has been going on for some time, hasn't it?

Has it? All the time I've been here?

Yes.

How long?

Since I was very little.

Very little, yes.

You cannot possibly understand.

No, I cannot.

At first... it seemed nothing to do with the rest of my life.

It was just something secret... that was, you know?

Like other things you must not do, and do.

Like touching yourself in the dark.

You don't understand.

And then when I was going to marry Captain Hunt... he saw. He saw.

Not so much as you have seen, but enough to guess.

And it preyed on his mind.

It preyed on his mind.

I swore then I would stop it.

And I did stop it. I did.

Because I wanted to be married and good and... like other people.

And I did persuade him that he was mistaken in me.

It was so hard, for he... he could not say what he feared.

He would not speak it out loud.

And that was when I saw how very terrible it was.

I was.

Only we could not stop!

I don't think that... he meant even to stop.

You see, he's strong, William.

And, of course, Captain Hunt, well, someone led him to see.

And he wrote a terrible letter to both of us.

He said...

oh, that he could not live with the knowledge, even if we could.

That is what he said.

And then he shot himself.

In the desk there was a note to me saying I would know why he had died,

and he hoped that I would be able to be happy.

And even after that you just went right on.

Who else could I turn to?!

Well, you turned to me. Or you made use of me, anyhow.

All the children will revert so shockingly to the ancestral type.

- No! - True little Alabasters.

No, no, no! I don't know! I don't know!

Well, I know, don't I!

It's perfectly obvious. You just have to look at them.

I'll go now.

We can talk again later.

William. William.

What will you do?

I don't know what I shall do.

I shall tell you when I do know.

You need not be afraid that I shall kill myself.

Or him.

I want to be a free man, not a convicted murderer.

Remember, William, the aim of the game is to get rid of all your letters.

Oh, yes.

"Phoenix. "

I only had this left.

No, not now. Later.

I'll find a time later.

Please, take a seat.

I hope you don't think this is too conspiratorial.

No.

You wish to talk.

You sent me a word tonight.

And someone sent for me to come back to the house today when I was not wanted.

When I was anything but wanted.

I didn't send for you, if that's what you're thinking.

There are people in a house, you know, who know everything that's going on.

Invisible people.

And now and then the house simply decides that something must happen.

I think your message came to you after a series of misunderstandings

that were at some level deliberate.

But you know what I saw?

Yes.

There are people in houses, between the visible inhabitants and the invisible,

largely invisible to both,

who can know a very great deal if they choose.

I choose to know about some things and not about others.

I've become interested in knowing about things that concern you.

I've been used. I've been made a fool of.

Even if that is so, it's not the most important thing.

What I want to know is what you feel. I want to know what you're going to do.

I find that... my most powerful feeling is that I'm free.

I ought to feel shocked, or vengeful, humiliated,

and I do feel all of these things from time to time,

but mostly I feel... I can go now.

I can. I can leave this house. I can return to my true work.

There was talk of equipping a further Amazon venture.

No. I cannot now take one Alabaster penny. You must see that.

You see everything, I begin to think.

I must go away, and soon.

And never return.

You are all that I shall miss here.

I've never felt anything, in my heart of hearts, for all those white children.

This may be only of the moment.

No, no.

I can go. I shall go.

My book - our book - will provide something. More can be earned.

I have sold my book.

Your book?

Yes. I told you I was preparing a book of drawings and writings

integrating the insect realm with fairy tales.

When did you write it? Why didn't you tell me?

I wrote it here.

I had to do it alone. I had to do something that would be mine.

All my life I've worked for others, for their good.

Everything I had, even this, could be taken away from me on someone else's whim.

My book was my secret.

Just as now it's my gift.

I cannot... You were not offering...

I've taken certain steps - entirely subject to your approval.

I have a banker's draft from Mr Murray, the publisher, which will more than suffice

and a letter from Mr Stevens offering to negotiate the sale of specimens as before,

and a letter from Captain Papagay, who sails from Liverpool to Rio in a month.

He has two berths free.

You truly are a good fairy.

You wave your wand and I've all I desire before I can think of desiring it.

I watch and contrive and write letters and consider your nature,

and you do desire it - you've just said so.

Two berths?

I will come with you.

You've filled me with a desire.

I shall not rest until I've seen the great river and felt the air of the Tropics.

You cannot do that.

Think of the fever, think of the terrible biting creatures.

Of the monotonous, insufficient food.

Of the rough men out there, the drunkenness.

- Yet you will go there. - I'm not a woman.

- Oh, and I am. - It's no place for a woman.

- There are women there. - Yes, yes, but not of your kind.

I don't think you know what kind of woman I am.

I don't think you know that I am a woman.

You never see me. Why should that not continue as it is?

You have no idea who I am.

You have no idea even how old I am.

You think I may be of an age between 30 and 50- confess it.

If you know so precisely what it is I think, it's because you've meant me to think it.

All right, tell me, since you invite the question. How old are you?

I'm 27.

I've one life, and 27 years of it have passed, and I intend to begin living.

Not in the rainforest, not in the Amazons. The place is very much an inferno.

- But you will go there. - I know how to live that life.

I can learn. I'm strong, I'm resourceful.

I have not lived softly, contrary to appearances.

You need not heed me once the voyage is over.

- It's a daydream. - It is what I will do!

- Matty... Miss Crompton... - Up here, at night, there is no Matty!

My name is Matilda.

Look at me.

I have looked at you.

I've seen your wrists, Matilda.

I only wanted you to see me.

I don't think that was all you wanted.

Shall I stay here?

Or shall I go back now?

I should like you to stay, but it's not very comfortable here.

If we are to travel together...

you'll find that we look back on this...

as a paradise of comfort.

So, you have decided. What is to be my fate?

I must confess, I'm more interested in my own.

I've decided to leave you, Eugenia.

And... shall you speak to anyone?

Shall you... tell?

Who can I tell, Eugenia...

whom I should not destroy in the telling?

You must live with yourself. That's all I can say.

You must live with yourself.

I know it was bad.

I know it was bad.

But you must understand, it didn't feel bad.

Breeders know even first-cousin marriages produce inherited defects.

That is a cruel thing to say.

Morpho eugenia.

You are very lovely.

It has not done me any good to look pretty.

To be admired.

I would like to be different.

Goodbye, Eugenia.

I shall not return.