All language subtitles for Middlemarch (1994) part 3

(bells tolling)

(thumping)

Featherstone:
Missy!

Missy! Do you hear?

It’s 3:00 in the morning
and I’ve got all my faculties.

- Do you hear?
- Yes, sir.

I’ve made two wills
and I want you to burn
one of them.

It’s in the chest
in the closet.

I want you
to take that one out
and burn it.

No, sir,
I cannot do that.

Cannot do it?
But you must!

No, I can’t.

It would lay me open
to suspicion.

Wait ’til morning, sir,
’til your brother and sister
come again.

No! Now!

Look here, Missy.

Take this money,
all of it –

the notes and the gold.

You shall have it all,
only do as I say.

No, I won’t, sir.

I won’t touch
the will or the money.

Please don’t
ask me again.

You’ll never have
the chance again.

Look, it’s
pretty nigh 200.

And there’s more
in the box and –

nobody will know
how much there was.

Take it
and do as I tell you.

Put away your money, sir,
I won’t touch it.

I will do anything else
you ask me.

Anything else?

I want nothing else.
(coughing)

- Let me give you
some cordial.
- Damn you, Missy!

(clatters)

(coughing intensifies)

(funeral bells tolling )

Mrs. Cadwallader:
What an extraordinary
set of people.

Who can they all be?

Oh, there’s Lydgate,
his doctor, I suppose.

Oh, that’s a really
fine-looking young woman

with that fair young man.

Who are they, Sir James,
do you know them?

I see Vincy,
the new mayor.

They’re probably
his son and daughter.

A very decent family –
you’ve seen Vincy
at my house.

He’s a very good fellow.

One of your secret
political committee,
I hear.

Oh, oh, oh, oh –

And one of those
who sucks the life

out of those wretched
handloom weavers at
Tipton and Freshitt.

That’s how his family
looks so fair and sleek.

Well, well,
he’s a sound man, Vincy.

Celia:
Who is that man that’s
wandered into the garden?

He looks happy enough.

Well, it’s time
the old man died.

No one there
seems to be sorry.

Why, Dodo,

you never told me
Mr. Ladislaw has come again.

Ah yes, he came with me,
he’s my guest.

He puts up at Tipton,
you know.

He’s an excellent
young man.

He writes well,
talks well...

I’d be glad to give him
an opportunity at
“The Pioneer.”

Mrs. Cadwallader:
I see...writes political
speeches, does he?

Did I not mention him
before, Casaubon?

I asked him some time ago
when you were ill

and Dorothea said
you couldn’t have anybody
in the house.

You know?
And she asked me
to write to him.

And he and I
have brought the portrait
on top of the carriage –

yourself in a semblance
of Thomas Aquinas.

I knew you’d be pleased
by the surprise.

(rapid footsteps)

Ladislaw!

Here! Here he comes.

He wouldn’t come in,
you know, ’til I had
announced him.

But here he comes.

Excellent, excellent,
here he comes.

There you are,
you see?

To the life.

A deep subtle
sort of thinker

drawing attention
to our ultimate
destination.

It’s symbolic, you see –
the higher style of art.

What do you think,
Casaubon?

I went into all that
a great deal at one time –

solidity, transparence,
everything of that sort.

I like all that
up to a point,
but not too far.

It’s a bit straining
to keep up with.

The flesh
is good though.

Flesh is good.

(whispering)

(whispering continues)

- Mrs. Waule: That’s him.
- By-blow.

- Love child.
- Love child!

(man clears throat)

Now, the will
I hold here in my hand

was drawn up by myself

on the 9th of August, 1825.

But I find there is
a subsequent will –

hitherto
unknown to me,

- executed in March 1828.
- (murmuring)

Dear, dear.

I shall begin by reading
the essential elements
of the earlier will –

as such appears

to be the intentions
of the deceased.

“To each of my brothers
and sisters who shall
survive me,

“I give and bequeath
the sum of £200

“and to my nephews
and nieces £100.

“To Mr. Borthrop Trumbull –

“£50 and my
gold-headed cane.

“To Mr. Frederick Vincy –

“£10,000.”

(collective gasp)

“And the whole of the residue
of the estate,

“including the house
known as Stone Court,

“and all the lands
and buildings appertaining

“go to Mr. Joshua Rigg,

“who will take henceforth
the name of Featherstone.”

But there’s a second will!
There’s a further document.

Yes, we have not yet
heard the final wishes
of the deceased.

The second,
most recent document...

revokes all the bequests
of the earlier will.

(murmuring)

It leaves Stone Court and all
the land in the parish
of Lowick

to Joshua Rigg,
with the former conditions –

“That the remainder
of the estate

“is to be devoted
to the erection
and endowment

“of almshouses
for old men

“to be called
Featherstone’s almshouses.”

There are no other
bequests whatsoever.

(gasps)

(sobbing)

The most unaccountable
will I’ve ever heard.

(sobbing louder)

- Solomon: If I had known –
- Mother!

A wagon and six wouldn’t
have drawn me from brassing.

It’ll do him no good
where he is gone.

He was a bad man

and almshouses
won’t cover it.

(wailing)

Come with me.

That vile
hypocritical old man.

Don’t give way, Lucy,
don’t make a fool
of yourself,

my dear,
before these people.

Fred.

- Fred!
- (whispers)
Fred, come!

Fred, Fred!

Be brave, Fred, I do
believe you’re better
without the money.

That’s all very well, Mary,
but what’s a fellow to do?

I thought I’d be able
to pay your father back at once
and make everything right.

And he’s left
you nothing too.
What shall you do now?

Find another situation.

I’m sorry, Fred.

Mr. Vincy:
Fred!

Fred!

(whispering)

...and sat in church
with him when he
felt like it...

Mr. Vincy:
Damn bad day’s work.

Well, sir, I hope you’ve
made your mind up now

to go up and pass
that examination.

You built too much on your
expectations, now you must
face the consequences.

Don’t be too hard
on the poor boy.

- It weren’t his fault that
wicked old man deceived him.
- Ha!

Mrs. Vincy:
Fred will turn out
well yet, I know.

And where is there
a girl like Rosamond?

Dr. Lydgate, who could have
had the highest in the land,

he fell in love
with her at once.

The sooner that engagement
is off, the better.

Vincy!
She’s started buying in
all the best linen –

I don’t care,
I shall have enough to do
with this idle scamp,

without paying
for wedding clothes.

Times are
as bad as can be –

machine breaking,
and I know not what.

Election coming
and revolution
for all I know.

Everybody’s ruined.

I don’t believe young Lydgate’s
got a farthing to his name for
all his grand connections.

If he wants my daughter,
he can damn well make
his own way first.

Ooh, Vincy...

- Lydgate:
What’s this, Crabstone?
- Abdominal tumor, Dr. Lydgate.

Her name is Nancy Nash,
patient of Dr. Minchin’s.

- Good morning, Nancy,
how do you feel?
- Bad.

Dr. Minchin wants me
to open her up and cut it out
this morning.

May I take a look,
Nancy?

I’ll be as gentle
as I can.

(scalpels sharpening)

Tell me when you feel it.

- There?
- Yes.

- There?
- Yes.

And when I do this?

Yes.

Hmmm.

All right,
thank you, Nancy.

It’s not a tumor,
it’s cramp.

Give her a blister
and some steel mixture.
Send her home to rest.

What’s Dr. Minchin
going to say about that?

“Cut her open,”
that’s what he said to me –

All right, I’ll speak
to Dr. Minchin.

(patient coughing)

I was as tactful
as I know how to be,
but Minchin took offense.

He’s refused
to give his services
to the new hospital.

We’ll manage well enough
in spite of him.

I shall just have
to spend more time there
myself, that’s all.

The devil of it is
the work’s unpaid.

Still...things
can’t last as they are.

We’ll have all sorts
of reforms soon.

Then all the young fellows
will be glad to come
and study here.

- Tertius?
- Yes, my darling?

Papa has been saying
that our engagement
must be given up.

But why?

You don’t want
to give it up?

Oh,

I never give up anything
that I chose to do.

Good!

Rosamond:
This is the house.

It belonged to
old Mrs. Bretton.

Oh, I’ve always
longed to live here.

And it’s so near
the hospital.

Papa says
it’s too expensive
for a doctor.

Say no more,
I’ll take it.

- Oh!
- It’s absolutely
the right thing.

I wouldn’t have you
like Dr. Minchin’s wife

in a pokey little
ill-proportioned place.

No!
Damned the expense!

I’ll use my patrimony.

You shall have
everything that is proper
for a lady to have.

It’s degrading to be mean
about such things.

And Rosy, rather than
defer our marriage,
why not hasten it?

- Oh, Tertius.
- You wouldn’t mind
about new clothes.

Those can be
bought afterwards.

I’ve never heard of wedding
clothes being bought after
the marriage.

You wouldn’t deny me
for the sake of
a few clothes?

No.

I shan’t be happy,

’til I’ve made you
altogether mine.

Fred:
Congratulations.

Now we should be allowed
to enjoy ourselves.

There’s no way
you’re going to...

Woman:
Handsome couple though,
no denying that.

Handsome is
as handsome does.

I wouldn’t wed
a girl of mine
to that one.

It’s a well-known fact
he tried to cut up Mrs. Goby,
after she was dead.

No, he never!
Did he?

Poised over her with a knife
when her brothers burst in,
I heard.

No!
Handsome though.

Oh, yeah, very handsome.
Very smart, the pair of them.

Come and congratulate
the bride and groom.

Not that I am not
thankful for my Ned’s sake,

though he could afford
to keep such a wife

better than Dr. Lydgate,
for all his grand ways.

I’ve never liked it
when strangers come in
to a town, putting on airs.

My Nicholas was
a stranger here once.

Abraham and Moses
were strangers
in the land.

And we are told to
entertain strangers,
are we not?

I wasn’t speaking
in a religious sense, Harriet.

(bells tolling)

- Mr. Brooke.
- Good day to you.

Vincy’s had to dig
deep in his pockets
over this palaver.

You think he’s got himself
a bargain then?

With Lydgate?!
(laughs)

No better than Brooke got
when he bought himself
“The Pioneer.”

And that young rogue
he’s got to edit it -

they say
Brooke is putting up
for Parliament,

with his protégé
to puff him in
“The Pioneer.”

Who is he then,
the young sprig?

Some loose fish
from London, I suppose.

His name is Ladislaw.

Some sort of foreigner,
I gather.

He’ll begin
with a flourish
about the rights of man

- and end up murdering
some poor wench.
- Aye, I wouldn’t wonder.

Ladislaw:
“‘The Pioneer’ considers
this to be a time

“when the crying needs of
the country might overcome

“the modesty and reluctance
to public action

“on the part of men
of large experience of life,

“men whose minds
have acquired breadth,
as well as concentration,

“dispassionateness tempered
by intelligence and energy.

“The name of Brooke of Tipton
comes to mind in
this connection.

“And the electors
of Middlemarch would be
fortunate indeed

“to secure the services
of such a man.”

Ladislaw, that’s good
and to the point.

“Dispassionateness
tempered by intelligence
and energy,”

I like that, yes,
I like that very well.

No, wait,
I’ve changed my mind.
I’ll come with you.

There’s a particular
sketch I wanted to take
within the churchyard.

Aah...very well.

- I’ll see you at dinner then.
- With pleasure, sir.

Very well, Peter.

Peter:
Walk on, go on.

- Master is out, sir –
- Oh.

But Mrs. Casaubon is in.
She’ll be glad to see you,
I am sure.

Oh, very well.
Wouldn’t want to be
a nuisance though.

She’s just
in the library, sir.

I’m so glad
to see you.

I really just came
for the chance of
seeing you alone.

I wanted to talk
about things, like
we did in Rome.

It seems strange
how much I said to you then.

I remember it all.

You spend all your days
shut up indoors
with these?

Not all my days,

not all the hours
in any day.

And I’m happy to be here.

You look so much paler
than you did in Rome.

Couldn’t you
get your husband
a secretary?

Then you could ride
and get your color back.

How can you
think of that?

I should have no happiness
if I didn’t help him
with his work.

Did you know I was
his secretary
for a while?

I should not
have thought that post
would have suited you.

No, nor did it
suit Mr. Casaubon.

Perhaps you are not
a steady enough worker.

No, and I don’t think

Mr. Casaubon likes anyone
to overlook his work

and know too thoroughly
what he’s doing.

Too uncertain of himself.

I made the mistake
of offering him
my opinions.

I’m afraid he dislikes me
because I too often ventured
to disagree with him.

And yet he overcame
his dislike of you

as far as his actions
were concerned.

Yes, he has...

shown a sense of justice
in family matters.

He understood
what an abominable
thing it was

for my grandmother
to be disinherited

merely for falling in love
with a poor man.

I wonder how
she bore the change
from wealth to poverty?

Do you know much
about her?

Well, she married
for love, that’s all.

There’s nothing
to be said against
my grandfather

except that he was
a Polish patriot

who was forced
to flee his homeland

and obliged
to give music lessons
for his living.

For this alone
was she disinherited.

My mother ran away
from her family too,

to get her living,
went on the stage in fact.

See, I come
from rebellious blood
on both side.

- And your father?
- I remember him
very little.

He died when
I was very young.

He inherited
the musical talents.

I remember him
playing the violin.

And I remember...
his slow walk.

And I remember
his long, thin hands.

And I remember once,

he’d been lying
in bed for a long time –
I think he was very ill –

and all I could think of
was how hungry I was

and how I only had
a little piece of bread.

He made himself
known to Mr. Casaubon
shortly before he died

and that was
our last hungry day.

Such a different life
from mine.

I’ve always had too much
of everything.

Do you really think
you’ll be satisfied
working with my uncle?

Oh, for the time being,
I think.

There’s work for me
to do here and I belong
to nobody anywhere else.

But if you think
I shouldn’t stay –
then I will go.

Why should I think that?
I should like you to stay
very much.

Then I will stay.

Perhaps you should be
guided by Mr. Casaubon.

I spoke without thinking
of anything but my own
feelings.

Can’t you wait now
and mention it to him?

No, I can’t wait today.

Your uncle
is expecting me.

I feel I need
to use my body.

A five-mile walk
to Tipton with the sun

gleaming on the wet grass
is just what I require.

- Goodbye.
- Then goodbye.

- Did you find
the bishop well, Edward?
- Tolerably well, my dear.

He was good enough
to speak very handsomely

of my recent pamphlet
on the Egyptian mysteries –

in terms which would not
become me to repeat.

That’s wonderful news.

I wish you’d been
here earlier.

Why is that, my dear?

Because Mr. Ladislaw
has been here.

You missed him
by only a few minutes.

Indeed.

Yes, he was hoping
to speak with you.

It appears that
uncle has bought one of
the Middlemarch newspapers.

And has asked Mr. Ladislaw
to conduct it for him.

And now that
he is independent of
your financial support,

he’s seeking
some fixed occupation.

He also said that
he should like to stay
in the neighborhood

because nobody cares
for him elsewhere.

And did Mr. Ladislaw
come on purpose to ask
my opinion?

He didn’t say that.

But of course
he expected me
to tell you of it.

Would you like me
to read to you, Edward?

No thank you,
not at present.

Then may I talk to you
a little?

Certainly.

I’ve been thinking
all day about money...

that I’ve always had
too much.

And especially now
with your generosity,

the prospect of too much.

I’ve been thinking
about your aunt Julia...

how she was cut off
from the family

only because
she married a man
who was poor.

And about her grandson Will,
your cousin.

It isn’t right that
he should live in poverty
while we are rich.

And no doubt, Mr. Ladislaw
has been speaking to you
on the subject.

No.

Edward, I know that you have
done everything that you
thought to be right.

But it seems to me
that more than that
is right.

I believe that
Mr. Ladislaw should be
given the money

that would enable him
to take his true place
in society –

then he need not
take on employment
that might be beneath him.

Edward?

Surely,
he has a just claim –

Dorothea, my love,

this is not
the first occasion,

and it were well
it were the last,

on which you have
assumed a judgment which
is beyond your scope!

It is not for you
to interfere between
me and Mr. Ladislaw,

still less to
encourage communications
between him and you

which constitute
a criticism on my procedure!

Edward’s voice:
“Dear Mr. Ladislaw,

“Mrs. Casaubon
informs me that a proposal
has been made for you.

“Let me inform you

“that your acceptance
of this proposal would be
highly offensive to me.

“There are certain social
fitnesses and proprieties

“which should hinder
a near relation of mine

“from making himself
conspicuous in this vicinity

“in a status
far below my own.

“I must tell you
that any persistence
in this course

“must disqualify you
from further reception
at my house.

“Yours faithfully,
Edward Casaubon.”

Pompous old fool.

I’m damned if I’ll let you
drive me away.

- What was that, Mr. Ladislaw?
- Nothing, Jenkins.

Freedom is
a noble thing, eh?

It is, sir,
and in short supply.

Ladislaw’s voice:
“Dear Mr. Casaubon,

“you will pardon me
for not seeing

“that my obligation to you
should restrain me

“from living where I choose
and maintaining myself

“by any lawful occupation
that I choose.

“My conscience tells me
I’m doing nothing wrong.

“If yours forbids you
to receive me in
your house again,

“so be it.
I remain with deep regret,

“yours, in persistent
obligation,

“Will Ladislaw.”

Rosamond:
Tertius, you never told me

how beautiful
Quallingham was.

What’s it like inside?
Is it full of lovely things?

Lydgate:
There will be someone
exceptionally lovely in it.

Rosamond:
Did you stay here often
as a child?

Lydgate:
Quite often, yes,

particularly when Sir Godwin
became my guardian, after my
father died.

I think you’ll like my uncle.
He’s a good-natured
old fellow.

But I’m afraid
my cousin’s a bore.

So how do you like Quallingham
now that you’ve seen
all around it, eh?

Oh, I like it
very much, sir.

I think it is
the loveliest place
I have ever been in.

(chuckles)
Do you, do you?

You have a lusher
countryside in Loamshire,
I understand.

No, no indeed,
Sir Godwin,

I could happily
walk around Quallingham
for weeks together.

Oh, if I were ever
to live here,

I think I should die
from happiness.

Really indeed.
We don’t want that,
do we?

Intend continuing
in Middlemarch then,
Tertius?

Yes, I thought so, sir.

Country sawbones
in a manufacturing town!

Odd sort of profession
for a gentleman.

I would like us to remove
to London, Sir Godwin,

or perhaps to Bath.

Bath’s an amusing place,
but it’s damp.

It’s full of gouty admirals.
Doctors make a fortune there.

Middlemarch
has more interest to me.

We have the opportunity
to make the town and
its hospital

a model in medical care
that the whole of Europe
might envy.

Hmph.

Really?

Good hunting about,
I understand. I might come
and visit you one day.

Oh yes, oh, please do,
Captain Lydgate, come
and stay with us.

We should be
delighted to receive you.
wouldn’t we, Tertius?

Oh yes, yes...
yes, of course.

What about this new
nonsense of Brooke’s?

Does he really mean
to stand for Parliament?

He’ll be roasted
alive at the hustings.

He brings it upon himself.
He’s the worst landlord
in the county.

I do think one is bound to do
the best one can for one’s
land and tenants,

especially
in these hard times.

I want him to take
Caleb Garth on again
as agent.

He got rid of Garth
12 years ago, and everything
has been going wrong since.

I think of getting Garth
to manage for me. He is
an excellent man.

Lady Chettam:
If Dorothea had kept
near her uncle,

there might have been
some hope for him.

But now Casaubon
takes her up almost
entirely.

If she can visit her sister,
she can visit her uncle.

Someone at any rate
has got to teach that man
some sense.

Dorothea:
Are you sure you won’t
come in with me, James?

No, I think you’ll do
better on your own,
Dorothea.

But do remember,
you must be cruel
to be kind.

Brooke:
Let us get this
into next week’s editorial.

Mr. Ladislaw.

- Mrs. Casaubon.
- Dorothea!

Well!

I hear you are going
to engage Mr. Garth

who praised
my cottage designs.

Ah well...no!

Did Chettam say that?

He’s a little hasty,
you know.

I never said I should do
any such thing.

But I know you will,

for you mean to enter
Parliament as a member
who cares for progress.

And how could you do that
while your tenants live
in filth and squalor?

- Oh, come on.
- Think of Kit Downes,
uncle.

He lives with his wife
and seven children
in the back kitchen.

Leaving the other rooms
to the rats.

Yes, what is it,
Mrs. Kell?

The keeper has caught
Dagley’s boy, sir,
with a leveret.

- Fresh killed.
- Has he?

A leveret!

Well, I must talk
to the boy’s father. Now,

Dorothea, will you come with me
as far as Dagley’s cottage?

Yes of course.
Uncle!

I shall let him off
lightly.

You stay here
while I talk to the keeper.

- Where is he?
- He’s out here, sir.

What is he doing
at the front of the house?

(voices fading)

You do know that
Mr. Casaubon has
forbidden me to visit you?

No.

No, I did not know.

I’m very sorry.

Do you still intend
to stay at Tipton?

Yes, I shall hardly
ever see you now,

or hear what you’re doing.

No, but I shall hear
of you from my uncle.

And as for what
I shall be doing...

My life is very simple,
I’m always at Lowick.

That is a terrible
imprisonment!

Please, don’t say that.

I have no longings.

Except...

Except what?

Except that I wish
I hadn’t so much more
than my share

without really doing
anything for others.

My religion

is to love
what is good and beautiful

when I see it.

And I’m a rebel.

I don’t feel bound
as you do

to submit
to what I do not like.

(horse whinnies)

How long my uncle is.

I must go
and look for him.

Brooke:
Chettam finds
fault with me,

over gates,
and repairs.

He wants me to go
fancy farming.

But I’d like to know
another landlord

who is as easy
over rent arrears
as I have been.

I’m very easy,
uncommonly easy.

I’m well-known
for going easy.
I’m treasured for it.

I know it, uncle, but if
the whole estate were under
professional management –

Yes, yes, well...

- (thunder rumbling)
- Well,

I want you to stay here.

(dog barking)

(chickens clucking)

Ah, Dagley,
my good fellow.

I’d like a word
with you.

What?
Mr. Brooke, is that?

Yes, well, Dagley,

I’m sorry to say that
your little lad Jacob
has been caught poaching.

All I have done

is have him shut
in the empty stable
for an hour or so,

just to frighten him.

- And you must give him
a reprimand, you know.
- No, I won’t!

Good day to you,
Mrs. Dagley.

I’m damned if I’ll leather
my boy to please you,

not if you were twenty
landlords instead of one –

Now, I did not mean
the stick, Dagley,
not the stick.

Stick, is it?
You talk of stick
on these premises?

You won’t give a stick
towards mending!

Worst landlord
in the county.

Hold your tongue.
He’s been to market,
sir, and taken liquor.

He’s heard
about reforms, sir.
He don’t mean any harm.

Come the reform,
it’s you and your likes
will be sent scuttling.

Dagley!

I’ve lived
upon your ground

from my father
and grandfather afore me.

And I’ve dropped
our money into it.

Me and my children

might lie for top-dressing
and rot in the ground

that we can’t find
the money to buy –

Dagley, you’re drunk,
you know.

We’ll talk another time,
you know, another time.

Good day to you,
Mrs. Dagley.

Aye, that’s it, go on.
Get out of it,
make yourself scarce.

- (arguing, yelling)
- (dog barking)

Dagley:
Go on, get out
of there now!

(commotion continues)

- What’s happened, uncle?
- We chose a bad time

and the man is the worse
for drink, I’m afraid.

He was most uncouth.

Quite overstepped
the mark.

But you know, my dear,

reflecting
on Chettam’s notion

that Garth should take over
the management,

you see...

he has an eye for detail.

while I...
I take a broader view.

It would be
an excellent idea, uncle.

Thank you.

(women gossiping)

Rosamond:
Can you take these up
to my bedroom, please?

Maid:
Yes, ma’am.

(voices overlapping)

Rosamond:
Oh, how lovely!
Tertius!

Tertius, look.

Don’t you think this
the prettiest pattern
you ever saw?

Rosy, more
dress material?

I see you bought the dearest
wineglasses, after all.

It wasn’t expensive,
Tertius.

And look,

it does suit me,
doesn’t it?

You will ruin me.

It’s lovely.

It becomes you very well.

Tertius, careful.

- Careful.
- You’ll ruin me.

- Oh!
- Ruin me!

(panting)
Oh, dear!

Oh, ruin me.

(moaning)

Tertius!

(dog barking)

- Oh, Mr. Farebrother.
- Mrs. Garth.

- Caleb.
- Mr. Farebrother.

Farebrother:
Mary, Alfred, Ben.
How is Letty?

- Very well,
thank you, sir.
- Good.

(sighs)

I come as an envoy, Mrs. Garth,
from poor Fred Vincy.

Mr. Garth:
I haven’t seen the lad
for months.

- Couldn’t think
what was become of him.
- He’s been away on a visit,

’cause home was
a little too hot for him.

Boy:
Drop it.

Farebrother:
Yesterday he came and
poured himself out to me.

he asked me
to come and tell you
that he’s going away again

and that he’s so miserable
about his debt to you

and his inability to pay,
that he can’t bear

to come here himself,
not even to say goodbye.

I’m not surprised.

Mr. Garth:
Tell him it doesn’t
signify a farthing,

for I’m to be
as rich as Croesus.

- No!
- Oh, yes indeed.

Well, rich enough
to educate Alfred

and to keep Mary at home.

Good.

Mr. Garth:
Thanks to Sir James Chettam

I’m going to be agent
for two estates –

Freshitt and Tipton
and bit of Lowick beside.

I’m delighted for you,
Caleb.

This is just
the sort of news
to carry to Fred Vincy.

Boy:
Come here.

Mr. Casaubon?

Dr. Lydgate.

I’m exceedingly
obliged to you.

My life,
Dr. Lydgate,

derives
a possible importance
through my work.

“A Key to All
Mythologies”,

at present
uncompleted.

It is, I believe,
all that I will be
remembered for.

And were it necessary,

I would wish
to leave it behind me

in such a state
that it might be

committed to the press
by others.

You have not implied to me
that my symptoms are those
of a fatal disease,

but were it so,

such knowledge would be
very useful to me.

Mr. Casaubon,
with diseases of the heart,

it is particularly difficult
to predict with certainty.

You may live
a comfortable life
for another 15 years, but...

it is my duty to tell you
that death is often sudden.

I see.

One more thing
I have to ask you,

did you communicate
what you have now told me
to Mrs. Casaubon?

As to the possible issues,
yes I did.

Thank you.

Such a rare
and beautiful day.

Thank you, Dr. Lydgate.

I thank you.

(cane taps)

Dorothea, were you
waiting for me?

Yes.

I didn’t like
to disturb you.

Come, my dear, come.

You are young

and should not
expend your life

by watching.

Whoa!

Ma’am.

(piano playing, singing)

(couple singing)

Dr. Lydgate?
He’s not at home, ma’am,

but Mrs. Lydgate will be
very happy to receive you,
Mrs. Casaubon.

Thank you.

(man singing)

(woman singing)

(woman laughs)

Mrs. Casaubon, ma’am.

Mrs. Casaubon,
you’re very welcome.

Thank you
for allowing me
to interrupt you.

I am anxious to see
Dr. Lydgate, if possible.

I hoped you might tell me
where I could find him,

or even allow me
to wait for him
if you expect him soon.

He is at the new hospital.
I’m not sure how soon
he will come home.

Shall I send for him?

Will you let me
go and fetch him?

Mr. Ladislaw.

I’m sorry, I didn’t know
it was you.

I had not thought
of seeing you here.

May I be of service?
May I go to the hospital
and fetch him?

No, I –

thank you, but I wish
to lose no time before
getting back home.

I will drive to the hospital
myself and see him there.

Please, excuse me,
Mrs. Lydgate. I’m very much
obliged to you, thank you.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

I’m very envious
of your acquaintance
with Mrs. Casaubon.

Is she very clever?

I’ve never thought
about it.

I must go too...

it’s always fatal
to have music
interrupted.

Oh.

Well, do come again...
some evening.

Tertius will like
to hear the music

and I find I cannot
enjoy it so well
without him.

(door shuts)

You’re certain that
there is no further
cause for anxiety?

No marked
deterioration?

I thought he seemed...

diminished, somehow.

In his mind
rather than his body.

Each of us knows
that we must die.

But when we must
grasp it as a certainty,

even the most devout
must feel a certain terror.

Yes, I’m sure
you’re right.

This is a fine place,
Dr. Lydgate.

You must be very happy
to have charge of it.

Yes, there’s...
there’s everything
to be done here.

The other medical men have
set themselves against it,
but, well,

they’ll come round in time.

And then there’s money too.

Bulstrode can’t be expected
to foot all the bills.

Half the town seem to delight
in thwarting him and me.

- Why is that?
- Bulstrode is unpopular.

People don’t like
his religious tone.

And I gather
half of Middlemarch
is in debt to him.

As to myself, well...

my colleagues don’t like it
that Bulstrode

has put the medical direction
in my charge.

So they not only
refuse to cooperate,

but try to blacken
the whole affair and
hinder subscriptions.

How very petty of them.

There’s no stifling
the offense of being
young and a newcomer,

and happening
to know something more
than the old inhabitants.

I should like
to help you if I can.

I could spare £200 a year
for a purpose like this,

a hospital
where everyone can come
without fear of expense,

in confidence
of the most modern care.

You’re very generous,
Mrs. Casaubon.

It makes me happy.

How happy you must be
to awake each morning

knowing that you
have the power of doing
so much good each day.

I wish I could
awake each morning
with that knowledge.

Yes.

I should remember that
more often.

Hmm.

What are you thinking?

I’m thinking about
a great fellow

who was about as old
as I am, 300 years ago.

- I can’t guess.
- I’ll tell you.

His name was Vesalius.

He was a great anatomist.

He taught us most
of what we know
in that field.

But the only way
he could study

was to go at night
and snatch bodies

- from graveyards
and places of executions.
- Oh, how horrible.

I hope he is not
one of your great heroes,

else we shall have you
getting up in the middle
of the night

to go to St. Peter’s
churchyard.

You know how angry
the people were about
Mrs. Goby?

You have enemies
enough already.

So had Vesalius, Rosy.

No wonder the medical fogies
in Middlemarch are jealous.

All the other doctors
were against Vesalius,
but he was right,

and he proved it,

for all they
called him a liar
and a poisonous monster,

for all his body-snatching.

And what happened
to him in the end?

He had to fight
throughout his life.

He got shipwrecked
just as he was coming
from Jerusalem

to take a great chair
in Padua.

He died rather miserably.

- Tertius?
- Hmm?

Do you know...

I often wish
you hadn’t been
a medical man?

Don’t say that, Rosy.

That’s like saying you wish
you had married another man.

No, not at all.

You are clever enough for
anything. You could easily
have been something else.

And all your cousins
at Quallingham think you
have sunk below them –

My cousins at Quallingham
may go to the devil.

Still,

I do not think
it is a nice profession.

It’s the grandest profession
in the world, Rosamond.

To say that
you love me without
loving the medical man in me

is the same as saying...

you like eating a peach
but you don’t like its flavor.

And don’t say that again,
dear, it pains me.

Today I propose
the first step in the
process of condensation,

which I’ve long
had in view,

and which will require
much intensive labor
from you, my dear,

both now...

and in the future.

What would you
like me to do?

Start here
with the Egyptians.

No, no – here
with the Greeks.

You will oblige me,
my dear,

if you would read
each passage aloud.

And where I say “mark,”

you make a...a cross

with a pencil.

Very well.

Well, let us begin
at once.

I have deferred it
too long...

and I would gladly
see it completed.

“The cultivation
of monastic, aesthetic
and mystical traditions

“- as noted by
Iraneus of Lyons -”
- Mark!

“The theory of revelation
as practiced

“- during the archaic
and classical period.”
- Pass.

“The critical approach
to Greek religion

“inaugurated by Theagines
of Rhegium and Hekataios
in the 6th Century B.C.”

Mark.

Pass on the next heading,
I omit the...

the second excursus
on the solar cults.

You begin to perceive
distinctly, my dear,

the principle upon which
the selection is made.

Yes, I think I do,
Edward.

Good.
Let us pass on
to the Etruscans.

Are you ill, Edward?

I feel some discomfort.

Can I do anything
for you?

My love,

I have a request
to make.

What is it?

That you will tell me
whether, in the event
of my death,

you’ll carry out
my wishes:

Whether you will
avoid doing what
I should deprecate.

And do
what I should desire.

You refuse?

No.

I do not refuse.

But it is too solemn.

I think it is not right

to make a promise
when I am ignorant what
it will bind me to.

Will you not tell me
what you have in mind?

I see you would use
your own judgment.

I ask you to obey mine,
you refuse.

I desire
with my whole soul

to do
what will comfort you.

But I cannot make a pledge
I do not understand.

Grant me ’til tomorrow.

Please, Edward...

I beg you.

’til tomorrow then.

Ma’am?

Has Mr. Casaubon risen?

This half hour, ma’am.

He said
that he would await
your answer in the garden

in that place where
he goes to write.

Quickly, Tantripp,
I must dress.

Edward, I am come.

I am ready.

Edward?

Edward?

(birds chirping)

Edward, wake, dear.

I am here now.