All language subtitles for The.Turn.of.the.Screw.1974.regular.engxx

- A rather unusual advertisement

offering the position of governess

to a young woman of independence had
drawn me

to a Mr. Jonathan Fredricks of Harley
Street, London.

Having won his interest by my admittedly
bold reply,

I had been invited to his offices

where we were to discuss my qualifications.

It proved to be a meeting I should well

have avoided had I known of the bizarre
and dreadful substance

of that which lay before me.

- Mr. Fredricks will see you now.

- So you are Jane Cubberly?

- Yes, sir.

- Turn around.

Open your mouth. - Sir?

- Teeth reveal character.

A pretty face is no gauge of worth.

Open your mouth, girl.

You are a pretty thing.

You may sit down, Miss Cubberly.

Well, now, how do you like London?

- I love it.

- Splendid, as do I. Yet, for the greater

part of the year I'm forced to conduct my
business here

I seldom visit the country.

- Well, that's unfortunate.

I'm sure the children must miss you.

- Not at all.

They never took to me, nor I to them.

When their parents died in the Sudan,

I assumed legal responsibility for their
upbringing.

As their uncle, my concern with the pair
of them

is solely one of duty to my dead brother.

I find them very heavily on my hands.

I have not a grain of patience with young
children

who are little more than a menace to
one's peace of mind.

- How dreadful.

How absolutely dreadful.

- Sit down, girl.

So, you think me harsh?

Well, I do not require the affections of
those I

hire, merely their talents.

I seek an individual who can assume full
control

at Bly house, a person of total self
-sufficiency

and of moral courage.

From your letters and from what I have
observed thus far,

you seem to possess these qualities.

Your references are quite in order.

Therefore, in consideration of the sum
mentioned

in our correspondence, you may consider
yourself in my employ.

- But how shall we be in touch?
- We shall not.

I am about to undertake an extended
business tour

and shall henceforth be unavailable.

- Yet, if I should require--

- Whatever you shall require in terms of monies

will be handled through my solicitor.

You must deal with all matters of
whatever nature

involving the children and without
recourse to me.

I do not wish to be troubled.

Is that understood?

- I shall manage quite nicely and you will not

find yourself troubled.

- Then we are in clear agreement.

Good day, Miss Cubberly.

- Good day, Mr. Fredricks.

- And do you still find me dreadful?

- Indeed, sir, in all truth, I do.

And thus it was that I found myself

of a beautiful afternoon on the final leg
of a pleasant journey

to the countryside of Essex.

I was to be in direct charge of a
household which included

Mrs. Grose, housekeeper and cook at Bly
and two orphan children,

Flora aged nine and Miles who was newly 14.

How beautiful.

- What's that, miss?

- Oh, the country.

London's all fog and dark.

- Are you from there, miss?

- Oh, goodness, no, I'm country born and bred.

I came to London to apply for a position.

I couldn't wait to leave.

- Well, you're sure to like Bly, then, miss.

Gardens, big trees all around.

It's an open kind of house--

lets the sun in.

- That's very reassuring.

The way Mr. Fredricks described it in
this letter,

Bly sounded rather gloomy, all those
closed off rooms.

- There's no use for them, you see, miss.

Me and my boy, Tim, well, we live

above the stables and the main house

is just the children and Mrs. Grose and since
-
-

- Since what?

- Since Miss Jessel went away, miss--

the governess before you.

- Yes, I know little of her.

Mr. Fredrick said she was taken ill, but
he didn't elaborate.

Why did she? Leave

- Oh, it's not my business to say, miss,

I'd be uh, speaking out of turn.

- Really?

Well, can't you tell me anything about her?

Was she attractive?

- Quite that, miss.

- And young?

- Oh, young enough to please him, miss--

Mr. Fredricks, I mean.

- Well, did she get on with the children?

- Oh, well enough, especially with Miss Flora.

- I'm naturally curious as to the nature of her illness.

Was it quite serious?

- Serious?

Yes.

Miss Jessel is dead, miss, and begging
your pardon,

I'll say no more about her.

Well, there's Bly now, miss.

- Upon arrival, I find that my melancholy

expectations of Bly House are quite
unfounded.

The house itself was most imposing and my
reception

was both warm and heartfelt.

LUKE: Whoa, now.

- Welcome to Bly, miss.

I'm Mrs. Grose, and this one, bless her,
is Miss Flora.

- You're very pretty.

- I'll take your trunk upstairs, miss.

It'll be in your room when you want it.

- Oh thank you, Luke.

You've been very kind. LUKE: Yes, ma'am.

- You're very pretty, you know.

I hope we shall be friends.

- Oh thank you, Flora, I'm sure we will.

- You'll find her a little angel, miss,

there's no other word to it.

BOTH: - Nonsense.

On rainy days, I'm quite wicked. - Oh.

- Well, then I shall see to it that the sun never still

shining.

Where's young Master Miles?

- Oh, he'll be home tomorrow, miss.

- From school, for the holidays.

Come with me, Miss Cubberly.

I so want to show you all of Bly House.

MRS. GROSE:

- This is the drawing room.

And this is the library.

- My, what a grand house.

- Upstairs is best.

That's where we play all day, miss.

- Oh, what do you play?

- Oh, hide and seek and riddle games.

But special best is playing pretend with
Miles.

He's so good at it.

- You'll find them very bright, miss.

I warrant they'll surprise you.

- What do you pretend to be?

- Oh, grown up people like...

JANE: Like who?

- Why, like our dear Mrs. Grose, of course.

BOTH:

Come, I still want to show you the
upstairs.

Isn't this a grand staircase, Miss
Cubberly?

- Yes.

- And this is our room.

This is where I sleep and this is where
you sleep.

We will be together each and every night.

- I hope you'll be comfortable here, miss.

- Oh, it's a lovely room. It's lovely.

The grounds are delightful.

MRS. GROSE: Oh, Luke keeps them up.

They're his pride.

- He seems a fine man.

- He's horrid!

- For shame, Flora.

- He won't let Miles play with Timothy.

He makes him stay away.

- Never you mind that.

I'm sure he has his reasons, and it's not
for you to judge.

- Who's that boy down there, riding on the horse?

- Oh, that'll be Timothy, Luke's son.

- Oh, what kind of boy is he?

- Oh, quiet, doesn't say much.

Keeps to himself.

But I'm sure you're anxious to see your
school room, miss.

Flora, show Miss Cubberly the way.

- We'll play explorer.

I'm the brave guide and you're lost

in the dark in an awful jungle.

Shut your eyes and I'll lead you.

-

- No peeking, mind.

If you peek, a lion will eat you, hair,
toes, and all.

- Well, I wouldn't want that to happen.

- We've arrived safely.

You may open your eyes now.

- Oh, thank you, Flora.

Oh, well, it's most complete.

- She insisted on having it this way.

- She?

- The one before you, miss.

- She means poor Miss Jessel.

We're not meant to talk about her.

Look, there's Blue Boy.

Luke is exercising him.

What a splendid animal.

- What did Flora mean that she's not to speak of Miss Jessel?

- Oh, it's just that Miss Jessel's gone and you're here

now, uh...

past things are past, miss.

- Come, hurry, hurry.

So much more to see.

And this time, you may keep your eyes open.

JANE: Well, what about the lions?

- Oh, I shot them all.

We're quite safe now.

- Oh, go on with you, Miss Flora.

I'm sure Miss Cubberly doesn't want

to go traipsing around all over this big
house.

She'll need to be resting after her trip.

- No, on the contrary, I feel quite stimulated.

I'd like to see all that's to be seen.

- I shall show her the parapet.

- Oh, well, then I shall leave you both to it.

I've got work enough to do downstairs.

Dinner's at 8 o'clock.

We're so happy to have you with us, miss.

May the good Lord bless and keep you.

- Oh, thank you, Mrs. Grose, I'm happy to be here.

- Miles and I simply adore the parapet.

We play knight and lady here.

He saves me from the fire dragon.

JANE: It seems very high up, aren't you
afraid?

- Not at all.

I am not afraid of anything.

- How remarkable.

- Sunsets are often quite lovely from here.

You can see ever so far. - 'Tis lovely.

Quite dangerous, though.

- Oh, it's not--

It's not dangerous, not if you know how
to keep your balance.

Look, I can even stand on one leg.

- Flora!

Oh, now you promise me you'll never,
never do that again.

- I promise.

But isn't the view breathtaking?

Who is that man?

- What man?

- There's was a man standing there a moment ago,

by the clock tower.

He was staring up at me.

- I saw no one, miss.

- It seems Mrs. Grose was quite right, I'm fatigued.

I'll have a rest before dinner.

- Of course, Miss Cubberly, dear lady.

I see I have exhausted you this nasty
climb.

I've been very naughty, I've done wrong.

- Oh, Flora, you've done nothing wrong, nothing at all.

The post bag that second morning at Bly

contained a letter addressed to me.

Inside, I found a note from Mr.
Frederick's solicitor

declaring that he had received the
enclosed envelope, which

remained sealed, from the headmaster of
Miles' school,

and that I should deal with it, whatever
the contents.

Breaking the seal, I read the news

that Miles had been dismissed and would not

be allowed to return.

I was shocked and bewildered.

- Good morning, miss.

- Oh, Mrs. Grose, I think you should see this.

- Oh, I haven't got my glasses, miss,

and I really can't read properly without
them.

- Well, I can tell you what it says,

yet I cannot for the life of me
comprehend it.

- Yes, miss?

- The school has dismissed Master Miles

and he's not to be reinstated.

- But what has the boy done?

- Well, they go into no particulars,

yet they declare him an injury to the
others.

- Master Miles?

An injury?

JANE: Yes, no violation is specified,

but the charge is clear,

- Why, it's dreadful to say such a cruel thing.

See him first, miss, and then believe it
if you can.

- Have you never known him to be bad?

MRS. GROSE: Oh, never, miss, I don't
pretend that.

- Then he has been?

- Yes, miss.

But then, a boy who never is is no boy to
me.

On occasion, I've known him behave badly.

- But not to a degree?

To contaminate, to corrupt?

- Oh my, no.

You aren't afraid he'll corrupt you, are
you, miss?

BOTH: FLORA: He's coming!

I saw the carriage!

Miles is coming!

He's coming!

- Oh, then we must hasten to him.

FLORA: Oh, dear, dear Miles.

- Oh, Flora. And good Mrs. Grose.

- Welcome home, Master Miles, we've all missed you so.

And this is Miss Cubberly, down from
London,

your new governess.

- My, you're a fine looking young gentleman.

- And you're a fine looking young lady.

- Isn't she, though?

And she's good at games, we've already
played lots of them.

- Indeed, as I'm sure we shall all

function splendidly together.

- Shall we go in?

- Come on, Flora.

- Well, miss?

Was I right about the young gentlemen?

- Oh, yes. It's grotesque.

- And the cruel charge?

- It's preposterous.

- Then how are you to answer?

What are you to tell Mr. Fredricks?

- Well, I shall tell him nothing for the present.

- But what about the boy's schooling?

- Well, he's on holiday now.

No, I'll wait for Miles to speak on the
subject,

as I'm sure he shall.

On the evening of the day

of Master Miles' return to Bly House, a
rather odd incident

occurred.

I had gone to the terrace need of solitude.

The sky was spangled with stars and the
sweet scents

of the garden permeated the night around
me.

It was as if time had stopped, the world
was held fast

in this frozen moment.

No evil could disturb it, no events
distort it.

Then faintly, I heard a voice from the
garden.

I recognized it as the voice of young
Master Miles.

MILES: I'm so glad to be back again.

Missed you so much, not being with you.

Now i;m back, I feel much happier.

So glad you're back.

Miss Cubberly!

You quite startled me.

JANE: Well, I heard you talking to someone.

Is Flora here with you?

- Well no, miss, I'm quite alone.

- Well, but there was someone here, I heard them.

- You promise not to think me strange?

- Yes, of course I promise?

Now, who was here?

- My friends.

They're still here.

They never leave.

- But we're alone, Miles.

- Oh no, not really.

They're all around us--

the trees, the bushes, the grass, all of
them

are parts of us, Miss Cubberly, right
now, here in the night.

They're alive, you know?

They even hear you when you speak to them.

They may not understand your words, but
they hear you.

- Then you were talking to the trees?

- Yes.

And you do think me strange, don't you?

Just as I knew you would.

- No, on the contrary, I think it's quite charming that you

care about nature so intensely.

I must confess, I've always wanted

to believe that all things in nature

are receptive to communication.

It's simply that you're just a bit bolder
than I.

- Miss Cubberly?

JANE: Yes?

- Will you promise not to speak of this to Mrs. Grose?

She'd think me awfully strange.

- You have my word.

Now come on, off to bed.

You've had a very active day.

- Miss Cubberly.

- What are you doing awake?

You're meant to be fast asleep.

- I just couldn't sleep.

- Oh, why not?

- Because I'm so excited that you're here, and I do

like you so very much.

- Thank you, Flora, and I like you very much, too.

- Miles told me he thinks you're splendid.

- Did he?

That was very complimentary.

- Oh yes, Miles is so very gallant,

and the dear boy does have such a way
with the ladies.

- Oh, does he, now?

Well then I shall have to watch out for
young Master Miles,

won't I?

Go on now, you go back to sleep.

Night, night.

- Yes, miss.

- Well miss, now you've had a chance to meet the young ones,

what do you think of them?

- They're delightful.

Young Miles, he's a sensitive boy.

- I can see they've both quite taken to you, too, miss.

JANE: Really? - Uh-huh.

- I so want them to like me, accept me.

This is my first important position

and I intend to do everything in my power
to make it a success.

- Your parents must be proud.

- Well, my mother died when I was very young,

so I barely remember her.

She's more dream than reality.

I have an older brother.

- But your father?

- Well, we were very poor, and he was a parson.

He was rather a strict father, bit of a
temper,

so we learned to keep out of his way.

I barely knew him.

- How sad.

JANE: No.

Do you know, in a way, I'm almost

grateful for my childhood, for it now

enables me better to understand poor
Miles and little Flora.

- Oh my goodness me!

My cakes, they'll likely be burned black
by now.

Excuse me, miss.

- Yes, of course.

- Is anything wrong, miss?

- Moments ago at this window there was a man staring in.

- You mean Luke, miss? Why, he--

- No, no, not him.

Another.

- But who could it be, miss?

- He was a horror, that's what he was.

I can still see his face as clearly as I
see your own.

- It could have been someone from the village
-
-

a tradesman, perhaps.

- No.

No, his eyes moved as if he knew this room.

- And what of his appearance?

- Well, he's a tall man dressed in black.

I saw him once before during my first day
at Bly,

from the parapet.

The same man.

He has dark hair, pale, cruel face, wide
mouth,

and his eyes are sharp, strange, and so
penetrating.

- Peter Quint.

JANE: What did you say?

- Peter Quint.

The description you give could quite well
fit him.

- You seem amazed.

- Well, I am, miss, because it couldn't be Quint.

- Well, why not?

Who is this Quint?

- The master never spoke of him?

JANE: Not a word.

- Well, he
-
- he was hired as the master's own man, his valet.

When Mr. Frederick was here some time
ago, that was.

Quint was put in charge when the master
went away again.

- In charge?

Above Miss Jessel?

- Oh, she came soon after to rule the children.

But him, he ruled the house.

- Was he dismissed?

- No, miss, not dismissed.

- What, then?

- Quint-- he died, miss.

JANE: Mrs. Grose could not

accept the fact that I had truly seen
Peter Quint.

And in fact, I could not blame the poor
woman.

She attributed the visitation to my
having perhaps

heard of him from the children and put it
down

to an overactive imagination.

But that night, as I lay in my bed, sleep
eluded me.

And when I finally closed my eyes,

his pale visage visited me afresh.

I could arrive at no account whatever of
the spectral person

with whom I had been so inexplicably

and yet, as it seemed to me, so
intimately concerned.

Why?

Why had the creature appeared to me?

MRS. GROSE: Who's there?

- It's me, Jane Cubberly.

I'm sorry for this late intrusion,

but I felt the need to talk to you.

Do you mind?

I must ask you some questions, and I

pray you'll be frank and open.

- I'll do my best, miss.

- How close was Peter Quint to the boy?

- But why is it important?

Why do you want to know?

- Now please, Mrs. Grose, I have my reasons.

- All right, miss.

Quint and Master Miles, they were always
together.

- What did they do?

- Oh, all manner of things.

I think it would be safe to say that Miles

was fascinated by Quint.

Sometimes he'd sit for hours just
listening to him

play the piano. - The piano?

A man like Quint?

- Yes, miss, I know it seems strange,

but Quint was a master at it.

- Were they, then, great friends?

- Oh, not friends, exactly.

It was Quint's doing, his fancy to play with the boy
-
-

I mean to spoil him.

Quint was much too free.

- With Miles?

- Too free with everyone, that man was.

A devil, if you must know the whole of it.

He drank, caroused, took liberties.

- And you never complained to the master?

- Oh, he doesn't like complaints, miss.

He's very short with anything of that
nature.

- Yes, I gathered as much at our meeting.

- I daresay I was wrong in not going to him, but I was afraid.

- Of what?

MRS. GROSE: Of Quint, of what he might do.

The man was so clever, so deep.

- But you must have realized what his effect would be.

- Effect, miss?

- On innocent lives, on young Master Miles.

- Oh, I was so afraid, I didn't dare speak out.

And then when Quint died, there was no
need.

- How did he die, Mrs. Grose?

- Last winter, it was, with ice on the ground and windy.

They found him on the road from the
village.

Quint was a hard drinking man, you see,

and he'd been imbibing heavily at the
public house.

That night on the road, in the wind, he
was none too steady

on foot.

It seems he fell in the dark, on the ice.

- And the fall killed him?

- Yes, miss.

That's how they say he died.

- There, that's your problem for tomorrow.

Is that quite clear to both of you?

All right, then you work it out this
afternoon

and we'll review it at tomorrow's lesson.

MILES: How about now, Miss Hubberley,

if I have the correct answer?

- Well, you haven't had time.

- Ah, 4016, isn't that right?

FLORA: Hooray for Miles!

Sorry, miss.

- Now, we're going to identify the principal cities of Italy.

What have you got in your desk, Miles?

- Only a frog, my dear.

JANE: Bring it here.

It's eyes-- what have you done it's eyes?

- Well, I've blinded it, my dear.

- Miles!

- Well, you shouldn't feel badly, miss.

The world is so full of ugly sights--

this creature has been spared them.

- You take this outside this instant,

and relieve the poor thing of its misery,
then you bury it.

- Very well, miss, whatever you think is best.

- And I don't want you ever to repeat this action.

- Are the lessons over today, miss?

May I go, too?

I should so like to watch Miles bury his
frog.

Please, miss?

- Yes, you're dismissed.

Miles?

Where's your sister?

- Down by the pond, I expect.

JANE: Well you should never leave her
alone by the water.

- Shall I fetch her, miss?

JANE: It's all right, I'll go.

Flora, what are you doing out here?

- Making a boat.

- But you know you're not meant to be here alone.

- I quite intended returning with Miles, only the dear

boy left without me.

- Well, in future, would you please--

- What's wrong, miss?

- Who's that woman?

- I don't see anyone.

- What do you mean, you don't see anyone?

She's there, she's over--

FLORA: Where, Miss Cubberly?

- Come on, Flora, let's return to the house.

Mrs. Grose?

MRS. GROSE: Yes, miss?

- I've just come from the pond with Flora.

There was a woman there, dressed all in
black, pale and thin

boned with dreadful eyes.

She fixed the child with those eyes, Mrs.
Grose,

such awful eyes.

- I don't understand, miss, what do you mean?

- It's as if she wanted to get hold of her
-
- of Flora.

- Get hold of Flora?

Really, miss I don't know what you're
talking about.

What did the child say to all this?

- Well that's the fright of it, she said she saw nothing.

She was like a great, black bird of prey
hovering there.

A dead thing returned.

- Dead?

- Oh yes, I know her--

she's an evil face, eyes sunk in shadow, full lips
-
-

my predecessor.

- Miss Jessel?

- Flora has a portrait of her left among her things.

The child displays it proudly.

It was the same woman, Mrs. Grose, I have
no doubt of that.

What I cannot fathom is why Flora won't
admit to seeing

her, too.

- But is it not possible, miss, that little Flora is

speaking the truth and that she saw
nothing of what you did?

- Well, the woman did vanish away suddenly.

Yes, perhaps she didn't see her.

I'll grant the possibility.

In fact, Mrs. Grose, I shall cling to it.

- There, I so hope it grows.

- I'm sure it will, you've done a lovely job.

- Oh, I think it's starting to rain.

My plant will be ruined.

- No, it won;t, the rain ill do it good.

- Do you think so, Miss Cubberly?

I mean, I hate to see things die.

- Come on, quick, let's go inside

before it really rains hard.

Run!

Oh.

Dear.

Here.

- How unpleasant rain is.

Miles promised to take me exploring, and
now he can't.

- Ah.

- Could you play a game instead?

- All right, what would you like to play?

- Fetch. We shall play fetch.

- Well, I've never heard of such a game.

- Of course you haven't-- we made it up.

We make up all our best games, don't we,
Miles?

- Oh, yes we do.

JANE: Well, is it very complicated?

What are the rules?

- Oh, it's oh so easy to play.

Tell her, Miles.

- Each of us draws a card.

If one of us draws a card marked slave,

well then the person who draws that card
must obey, oh,

providing someone else has drawn a card
marked master.

If not, then we shuffle and draw again.

You may draw the first card.

- What must the slave do?

- Fetch whatever the master asks.

JANE: And who wins?

- Oh, there's no winning or losing, it's--

not in fetch.

We just play till we're bored.

Ready?

- So I'm the master.

And who's to be my slave?

Flora?

- What does the blank card mean?

MILES: It means that Flora is disqualified.

The contest, my dear Miss Cubberly, is
between us.

Your card, please.

-

JANE: What must I do?

- Oh, you must fetch, of course.

It is my right to tell you what to fetch,

but not exactly where to fetch it.

JANE: Well, what about if I can't find it?

- Well then, you lose the game, dear Miss Cubberly,

and you still remain the slave.
- Very well, Miles.

You speak and I shall obey.

- Go up into the clock tower.

In that great, dark, place, there is a
Chinese doll.

It is dressed in yellow, and you must
look until you find it.

- And am I to bring the doll back here?

- Yes, that's correct.

As my slave, you must lay the doll at my
feet.

- Very well, I shall go.

FLORA: I think my plant's going to die.

The rain is killing it.

I'm sure it can't survive.

- Miles and Flora!

Help me, the door is stuck.

- My dear, the door was only stuck.

- But there was a woman standing over there.

- A woman standing over there?
- Yes, there.

She's gone now, but she was there a
moment ago.

- I'll go have a look.

- I'm sure you're all right, Miss Cubberly.

- Here, quite right, there's certainly nothing here now.

Over here, was it? JANE: Yes.

- Oh wait a minute, there's something inside the room.

Ha ha, this is probably what you saw,
isn't it?

Probably this, my dear.

Look-- clothes dummy.

Oh, I see you found the doll.

- I've had enough of this game now, Miles.

- Yes, actually, Fetch is quite boring, even on a rainy day.

Come on, Flora, we'll find something else
to play.

- But miss, I can't understand why you feel that way.

- Well, nevertheless Mrs. Grose, I

am convinced that Miles arranged the
whole incident,

and quite probably with Flora's help.

- But why would Master Miles want to frighten you, miss?

- I don't know.

I just somehow feel he had his reasons.

- Oh, no more than a boy's prank.

He just meant to tease, miss, I'm sure of it
-
- just to tease.

JANE: Perhaps Mrs. Grose was right

and Miles did only mean to tease.

But it was no longer that which concerned me
-
-

it was what I saw while locked in those
musty quarters that

finally led me that night back to the clock

tower of Bly House.

A consuming curiosity drew me there--

drew me back to the trunk which contained

all of the worldly belongings of Peter
Quint.

I determined to examine these personal
items in order that I

might know more about the man.

Mrs. Grose, may I have a word with you a
moment, please?

- Yes, miss.

- What do you know of these?

Have you seen them before?

- I don't know, miss.

Where did you find them?

- In the clock tower in Peter Quint's trunk,

they were among his things.

- Might I see them, miss?

Why, miss, they are--

- Shocking.

Vile and degrading.

Have you knowledge of them?

- I recognize the handwriting.

- And the harlot who sent them?

- They're from Miss Jessel.

- You must speak out fully.

- Quint had his way with her almost

from the day she arrived.

And she-- Miss Jessel--

she encouraged him in his vices--

matched them with her own.

An infamous pair they were, shameless and
bold

in their dark business.

Oh miss, the things that have happened in
this house.

- So now I know why he did it.

- What, miss?

- Miles
-
- why he sent me to the clock tower.

He wanted me to find those dreadful
letters.

- Oh, miss, how can you think such as thing?

Why ever would Master Miles--

- I have it now.

Of what did Miss Jessel die?

Tell me the nature of her illness.

- After Quint's death, she brooded, shut herself away

in her room, refused to eat.

We'd hear her moaning in the night.

Finally she left Bly.

- Tell all of it.

I want the manner of her death.

- She went quite mad, miss.

Within a month of leaving Bly
-
- and this I heard from others
-
-

she put a pistol to her bosom.

They found her in the village inn,
lifeless on the bed.

- I'll have those letters, Mrs. Grose.

- Yes, miss.

- A week passed without further incident

and the bright days restored my energies.

Had I alarmed the good Mrs. Grose, been
unjust about Miles

and frightened little Flora all without
due provocation?

Had I seen merely projections of my own
fears

based on rumor and hearsay?

I learned to be amused and amusing,

and not to think of tomorrow.

I had determined to pursue my duties with
joy and zeal

and give these innocent children, for
innocent

they surely were, the full measure of my
training

and love.

I said nothing more of what I'd seen to
Mrs. Grose, nor she

to me.

- Would you read to us, Miss Cubberly,

while we rest under the shade of the tree?

- Oh, what story would you like to hear?

- A fairy tale about good and evil

with witches and demons and dark forests.

- Well, I rather think Miles is a bit old for such stories.

- Oh, no, he isn't, not really.

He'll enjoy it every wit as much as I.
Please?

And we should have a picnic.

- Well, all right, then.

I'll meet you under the trees at the
front of the house,

all right?

- I love to watch the sky through tree branches.

It looks all cut up into little blue
pieces.

- Oh, hush, you ninny.

Dear Miss Cubberly is ready to read to us.

- No, there's no hurry.

Why don't you have some more of Mrs.
Grose's lovely chicken

sandwiches.

- The one thing I like about picnics--

you always get ants.

I love to watch Miles drown them.

- What of that?

MILES: I don't actually drown them--

not all the way, I mean.

FLORA: Tell her how you do it, Miles.

- Well, I take a glass of water, I

gather some ants, maybe about a dozen,

and drop them in and watch them try to
swim.

They can't, you know.

Not for long.

When I watch them sink all the way to the
bottom,

then I pour out the water carefully onto
a rock,

laying out the ant bodies in rows.

The sun beats down and they come to life.

After a while, their legs sort of twitch
and wiggle,

and pretty soon, they're alive again.

FLORA: As if they were never really dead.

MILES: Then I let them go.

- That's fascinating.

Now then, what story would you like me to
read?

- The one about the little boy and girl

lost in the magic forest.

- All right.

Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom

of green and gold, there was a magical
forest.

A wizard had created it to feed his huge
belly,

but died before he could eat more than
the outer edges.

- He was a pig.

- Oh, do be quiet, or I shall stuff your mouth with grass.

JANE: Tsk, tsk. The trees--

- Excuse me.

JANE: The trees were licorice, the roses
were peppermint,

and the rocks and boulders were chocolate
drops.

An evil witch had come to live there

in a house alongside a lake of sarsaparilla

deep in the forest.

She had emerald eyes, and sharp ivory
teeth,

and a long pointed nose for smelling out
children.

Boys and girls were warned never to venture

into the magical forest, no matter

how good it tasted, because the witch was
there to eat them.

The witch hated licorice, but loved

to chew up boys and girls.

- Do evil witches really exist?

- No, only in fairy stories.

- But evil exists, my dear, along with good.

Could it be reversed, I wonder?

- How, Miles?

- Well, evil be good and good evil.

FLORA: Hey, look, there's Luke with Blue
Boy.

May we watch him, miss?

May we?

- Oh, go on, both of you.

But don't miss your lessons.

That same afternoon, another unsettling
experience

occurred.

On the way back to my room, I suddenly
came across Flora.

She stood on the parapet stairs, a
strange smile upon her face.

I stopped for a moment, gripped by the
cold and certain

realization that Flora was about to
embrace the very presence

she had denied seeing.

Flora!

- Oh, Miss Cubberly.

- Who's there with you, Flora?

- Only me, miss.

- We were playing knight and lady.

- Very well.

You may continue.

Where did you come from?

- From my room, dear, I heard you cry out, as if in pain.

I came to see if I might aid you,

but I see were only dreaming.

You quite over your nightmare?
- Yes, quite.

Did I awaken your sister?

- Oh, she's fine.

Young children sleep quite soundly.

- As you should be doing at this hour.

You may go back to your room.

- Might I have a good night kiss?

Good night, my dear.

- Miss, I can't help asking.

Did Master Miles mention the nature of
his troubles

at school? - Not a word.

- And you didn't bring the matter up?

- Oh, yes, on more than one occasion, on which

he shies from the subject.

And I hesitate to press it further.

He'll speak in due time.

- And you didn't write to Mr. Fredericks?

- No, and I shall not unless things move beyond my control.

I must see this out.

- Might I ask for special favor, Miss Cubberly?

- Yes, of course.
- Could we visit the graves?

- He means the churchyard round the back.

The cemetery's there. - Oh?

- I'll not go, I want to go back home to Bly and play dolls.

My little doll, Sally, is very sick.

Somebody wicked cut off her head.

- I could take miss Flora back, miss,

if it pleases you to go with Master Miles?

- I would like to visit the graves.

- Well all right, we'll go around to the cemetery

then, Mrs. Gross.

- This way.

Do you enjoy being in cemeteries, Miss
Cubberly?

- Enjoy?

No.

I neither like or dislike them.

I never seek them out, if that's what you
mean.

- I find them fascinating.

Think that all these people, once strong
and alive,

now they're fallen apart, indeed, buried.

Will my skeleton fall apart when I die?

- What kind of talk, you're barely 14.

- Can't 14-year-olds die?

JANE: Everyone dies eventually, Miles,

but we try not to think about it.

- That's irrational.

Why not think about it?

Death is real as life.

Are you afraid to die, Miss Cubberly?

- I don't know.

I suppose it's something I shall face at
the proper time.

- I've often thought myself dead,

and what it would be like, lying there,
cold, still.

- Well, I think everyone imagines

what it must be to die, but it's morbid
to dwell upon the image.

- Well, I'm not at all afraid, and neither is Flora.

- Do you talk of death with Flora?

- Oh, we talk of many things.

She's extremely bright, as you've noticed.

She's not like other little girls.

Flora understands things.

- What things does she understand?

- I should like to talk to all these people, the ones

here under the ground.

I should like to ask questions and listen

to what they would tell me.

Quick boy such as myself, I could learn a
great deal.

- Did you ever tell Mrs. Grose what you're

telling me about the dead?

- Oh goodness no, my dear, Mrs. Grose is such a simple soul.

She'd be terribly shocked.

JANE: Well, I'm shocked.

- Oh no you're not.

Oh, you think you ought to be, but you're
not.

Indeed, you're fascinated by everything
I've said.

Do you find me a wicked boy, Miss Cubberly?

- Oh, no, Miles, you're a good boy.

- Not good, not always good.

I have been wicked, you know.

- Oh, you've not been really wicked.

You've played pranks, of course, but
that's not being wicked.

True wickedness is something far more.

Wickedness darkens the soul.

What's wrong?

- It's just that--

well, sometimes I-- - Sometimes what?

- Sometimes I'm afraid of myself, Miss Cubberly.

I frighten myself.

- How?

What do you mean?

- There are times, Miss Cubberly, when I--

I do feel wicked--

truly wicked.

- Yes, but you have no reason.

- Oh, you can't say that, you don't know.

- Yes, I can, Miles. - No, you can't.

What about that time in the stables?

- What do you mean?

- Oh, ask Luke, he'll tell you.

- No, Miles, you tell me.

Tell me, Miles.

- I hurt Timothy when we were playing together

in the stables.

- Did he do something to make you angry?

- He did nothing.

I just wanted to hurt him. - But why?

- I don't know why.

- What made you want to hurt him, Miles?

Who made ones want to do it? - Nobody.

Nobody at all.

I just wanted to hurt him, wanted to be
wicked.

I must leave.

I have had enough of this place.

Enough!

JANE: Miles, please.

Miles, wait for me.

Mrs. Grose, could I ask you a question?

- Yes, miss?

- Do you happen to know of a recent incident

where Miles hurt Timothy?

- No, I don't, miss.

Why do you ask?

- Well, it's just that when I was with Miles today,

he happened to mention it and he was very
upset about it.

- Well, what did he say had happened?

- Oh that was it, he wouldn't go into any details,

he just said it happened at the stables.

- Oh, I remember.

They were playing one day in the stables--

Master Miles and Timothy, and Timothy
fell from the loft

accidentally.

It could have been quite serious because
the boy narrowly

missed impaling himself on a pitchfork.

But all that actually happened was,

he was a bit shaken up and scratched
himself

on one of the tines.

- Well, why do you suppose Miles would tell me that he

thought he was responsible?

- Responsible?

Oh, I think I know the answer to that,
miss.

Luke practically accused Master Miles of
deliberately pushing

the boy.

- What did Timothy say?

MRS. GROSE: He told his father it was
only an accident

and that he'd fallen while they were
playing.

- I see.

- Luke was always quick to anger when it comes to Master Miles.

It's no secret, miss, that for some reason,

Luke doesn't like the boy.

- Well, that's awful, because it's already

had its effect on Miles.

For some reason that he cannot truly
understand himself,

he actually believes that he wanted to
hurt Timothy,

and he's frightened by his own feelings.

- Well, it's not true, miss, and I'm

sure you know it isn't true.

- Well of course I do, Mrs. Grose, but never the less,

the damage has already been done.

- Oh, it's too bad.

I know Luke didn't really mean any harm,

but Master Miles is just not capable of
hurting anyone.

- Late that night, with both children in bed,

I retired to the sitting room in order

that I might hopefully lose myself in the
pages of a book.

For after the disquieting scene with
Miles at the cemetery,

I needed to calm my disturbed senses.

Some while had passed since I had
encountered Miss Jessel

by the pond, and longer still since I'd

faced the infamous Quint at the window.

I had striven to put aside all thoughts
pertaining

to possible future visitations.

On this night, however, my very skin

crawled with the rising conviction

that indeed I was not yet quit of them--

that I was to be plagued afresh with
their evil shapes at Bly,

there being something of dread undefinable

astir in the sleeping house.

The walk back to my room seemed, on this
uneasy night,

a journey unending.

The halls seemed thrice their size.

It was as if Bly house had stretched and
flexioned itself

in the manner of a thing alive.

That the very wood stirred beneath my feet.

At the stairs, my sense of apprehension

greatly intensified and I found myself
short of breath,

though I had not yet begun to climb.

As a child, I had once read in amusement

that midnight is the hour of the with

and that 2:00 AM is the hour of the demon.

Now at 2:00, in the black depths of Bly
House,

I anything but amused at the recollection,

yet pushed such thoughts aside to climb
still further upward.

The staircase became an enemy to be
conquered, a wooden mountain

to be scaled.

Then, as I reached the top of the stairs,

I felt a chill enter my body--

a cold so intense that I shuddered as if
deep winter had

entered the hall.

It seemed to be emanating from the school
room.

The stairs.

A sudden compelling force beyond my will

seemed to draw me back, back to the main
staircase.

My heart crushed against the wall of my
body

in a thudding drumbeat of fear.

Then, as I rounded the top of the stairs,
he was there.

I had, in that instant, come to full
terms with the situation.

I knew why he was there, what had drawn him

back to Bly House, coupled with his
corrupt companion in lust,

the infamous Jessel woman.

They had come for the children, to claim
the innocent souls

of Miles and little Flora.

And that dark knowledge strengthened me

in this moment of horror.

No, I will not permit it.

You shall not have them!

Apparently, in that moment of rage and
fear,

I had flung myself full at the demon figure

and had tumbled from the landing.

At the impact, my senses quite deserted me

and my next recollection was of Mrs.
Grose bending over me,

and behind her, Miles and Flora.

- Are you all right, miss?

- We feared for your life, my dear.

- Indeed.

Do you have any broken bones?

- No, I'm all right.

I stumbled in the dark, the night air
blew out my candle,

I lost my footing.

Now back to bed, both of you.

It's far too late for talk.

- What really happened, miss?

- Peter Quint.

He was on the stairs.

You do believe me, don't you, that he was
there?

They want me out of the way.

Don't you see that, Mrs. Grose?

They want me to abandon the children to
them,

but I shall not.

I must implore you, I need your help in
this

to stand against them.

We must stand together.

Quint was here tonight from the grave to
seek out young Miles,

I'm sure of it.

- Though what you tell me seems impossible,

I must grant that there were bonds--

strong bonds between Quint and the boy.

Almost unnatural.

They were always close, with Quint
spoiling him and taking

him along on wrong occasions.

- What occasions?

How wrong?

- They'd be out together with Quint, drinking
-
-

be gone for hours.

When they were out, he'd feed the boy
whisky.

Once I saw Master Miles stagger and fall
from the effect.

Plain drunk, the poor lad was.

- And Miss Jessel allowed it?

- Oh, she-- she didn't mind, that one.

She had Miss Flora to herself on those
occasions.

- I see.

And when they were together in the lust,
Quint

and that Jessel woman, were the children
witness?

- Oh, I cannot truly say, miss.

Flora was too young to know what they
were about,

but Master Miles--

- So you could see he knew what was between them?

- Well, he denied, so I don't know.

- You do know.

Despite his denial, you know that he was

witness to their foul union.

- Oh, I hate to speak of it.

- I am convinced that it was Quint's influence

that caused Miles' trouble at school.

The boy's dismissal can be laid to Quint.

And her
-
- that Jessel woman with young Flora.

Oh, the children know what's about this very second at Bly
-
-

I tell you, they know.

MRS. GROSE: Know of what you saw?

- More, more.

They pretend otherwise, but Lord help us,

I believe they actually welcome it.

And yet if they win out--

Quint and Jessel
-
- and the children are lost,

their very souls will be forfeit.

- But why, miss?

Why is all this happening?

- I don't know the why of it.

I only know this horror is upon us

and we must do everything in our power to
protect the children,

- I can only pray that you are wrong about all this.

- I, too, Mrs. Grose, I, too.

FLORA: Italy.

MILES: Africa.

FLORA: Germany.

- Egypt.

- Russia.

- Very good.

Now, you were just assigned a paper
concerning aspect

of your life here at Bly.

You first, Flora, and out loud, please.

- My life at Bly is ever so much fun now

that my sweet brother is home once again.

We run and play all manner of splendid
games.

Sometimes we go to church with Mrs. Grose
and Miss Cubberly,

our fine new governess who teaches

us many things in school ..

JANE: That's excellent.

I think I'll give you an A for this.

Oh, you've misspelled splendid, it ends d
-i
-d, not d
-e
-d.

All right, thank you.

Miles, your paper, please.

- It's much too personal to read aloud, dear.

I'm sure you'll wish to read it for
yourself.

- Who wrote this?

- Well, I did, miss, just as you assigned.

- That's a lie, Miles.

- No, honestly, on my honor, the paper's all mine.

- Then these lurid words are yours?

- If what I wrote shocked or offended you,

dear Miss Cubberly, I tender my most
sincere apologies.

I was merely attempting to be free with
my style.

- This paper is completely unacceptable.

You'll write another-- a proper one--

and I shall expect to have it by this
afternoon.

You are both dismissed.

- Wake up, Miss Cubberly.

Please wake up.

- Oh, Flora, what's wrong?

- He told me not to tell, but I must.

He'll be fearfully angry with me for
telling.

- Who will be angry?

- Miles.

I'm so worried.

- Well, what did he ask you not to tell me?

- He said he was going to play.

- At this time of night?

- On the parapet.

- It's terribly dangerous out there at night.

He knows it's forbidden.

- That's why he made me promise not to tell.

- Why would he do such a thing?

Did he give you any reason?

- He said that he wanted to be wicked--

that wicked is being natural. - Natural?

- That's what he said.

- Flora, you remain here in my bed,

and you don't move an inch until I return.

- What are you going to do with Miles?

Will you punish him severely?

- Now, that's not your affair.

You leave Miles to me, I'll deal with him.

- Did I do the right thing in telling, miss?

He'll be fearfully angry with me.

- Of course, you did exactly right.

Go to sleep.

FLORA: Yes, miss.

- The conviction was strongly

upon me that I must function, upon
reaching the boy,

as a shield between him and the dark
force which

sought to steal him from me.

I felt not unlike like a knight rushing
to battle

for the life of a loved one.

My own basic terrors were thrust back

in view of my vital mission.

Fear was thus replaced by a desperate
sense of urgency.

Miles!

Miles.

Get off there, Miles.

Here, give me your hand.

A sense of lightness assailed me

as I drifted closer to the edge of the
parapet.

The figure of Peter Quint seemed to be
drawing me downward.

I fought to maintain my balance, attempting

to stave off a wave of vertigo which
threatened

to sweep me from the edge.

It was as if his strong hands were
clutching at me,

slowly exerting force.

A sense of impending death swept over me,
stealing my sanity.

MRS. GROSE: Miss Cubberly?

What are you doing here?

What are you doing up here?

- Miles-- where is the boy?

- I haven't seen him, miss.

- But he was here a moment ago.

- Oh, I don't know anything about that, miss.

I heard miss Flora crying, and she told me

that you'd come up here.

- And she made no mention of Miles?

- No, miss.

Are you sure that
-
-
- Yes, of course I'm sure.

He was here-- he was right here.

- Oh miss, he's asleep.

- Nonsense, he's faking.

Wake up, Miles.

Come on, it's no use pretending, I'm not
deceived.

MRS. GROSE: Oh, miss, I think he's

been to sleep all the time.

Please, miss.

- Go and see to miss Flora.

I'll deal with Master Miles.

- Well, if you-- yes, miss.

- Well, Miles?

Now, I want the truth.

Why did you go up to the parapet?

- If I tell you, will you truly understand?

JANE: Tell me.

- It was a test.

I was testing you.

- With Flora's knowledge?

- Oh yes, she agreed to help me with the test.

It was carefully planned.

Flora was to wake you and pretend

that I had asked her not to tell you that
I'd

gone up to the parapet.

We both knew you'd come up after me.

I was to stand on the very edge and
pretend not to hear you

when you called my name.

Meanwhile, Flora was to alert Mrs. Grose.

It was all a test.

- To what purpose?

- To see if you would still love me if I was wicked.

Do you?

I so need your affection, Miss Cubberly.

I'm not really a wicked boy, even if i say
-
-

JANE: No, I know, I know.

Miles, I must ask you.

Did you know what I'd encounter there at
the parapet?

That he'd be there?

That I'd be drawn to the very edge?

- No, miss, I swear it was simply a test.

I don't know what you're saying.

- Then why did you run away?

- Because I wanted to frighten you by disappearing.

It was all part of my wickedness.

- That was all?

- That was all, miss, all.

- Fair enough.

We'll say no more about it.

- I hope you won't punish Flora.

Oh please don't, it was all my idea.

- There'll be no punishment.

Good night, Miles.

MILES: Good night.

Oh, Miss Cubberly?

- Yes, Miles, what is it?

- I do regret having caused you any distress.

Henceforth, I shall be an absolutely
first rate person.

- I left young Miles quite shaken by the child's

need for affection.

His intensity and open sincerity moved
and impressed me.

He seemed to be trying to break through
to me,

and I could not abandon him, a vulnerable
child reaching out

for affection.

I was determined to supply that precious
commodity.

Two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight, nine, ten.

Ready or not, here I come.

- A serene and happy week passed.

Most children behaved beautifully.

Miles in particular was bright and
affectionate.

Both were attentive and quick at their
lessons.

Yet, even as I joined in their games and
their gaiety,

I felt always the oppressive weight of my
sure and certain

knowledge that I would soon again

face those whose corrupting influence I

sought so earnestly to dispel.

FLORA:

- A seasonal storm struck at Bly,

and the inclement weather kept the
children indoors

throughout the day, but they have neither

complained nor misbehaved as a result

of this tiresome confinement.

To reward them for their patience,

I had agreed to sit with Mrs. Grose in
audience

while the children performed for us.

On this night, we had no idea of the
nature of the performance,

nor of its odd and unsettling content.

I so enjoy a cup of hot chocolate on a
cold night.

Will you join me?

- Thank you, miss, I will.

Thank you.

- You've never told me of your family--

your parents, your brothers and sisters.

- Oh, I never had brothers or sisters, miss.

My mother, she was a working woman like
myself.

She wanted more children, but something
went wrong

and she couldn't have any more.

She died young, and my father, he kept to
his trade,

never married again.

- What was his trade?

- Roof thatcher.

Oh, good he was at it.

But he's gone too, now.

Oh, I've been alone for many years.

No family until the children came into my
life.

They're my family now.

Master Miles and little Flora.

- Were they born at Bly?

- Oh no, miss, they were born somewhere in Africa.

The Gold Coast, I think they call it.

Constant travelers, those people were.

- Oh, so they came to Bly--

MRS. GROSE: After their parents died.

Their uncle, Mr. Fredricks, he brought
them here.

I was already working for him.

Luke, too.

I tell you, they brightened Bly the moment

they stepped inside the door.

What a joy!

Those bright, shining little faces, full
of life.

Oh, it was a good house before the others
came.

- Dear ladies, this evening, you are

to be entertained by these humble
personages.

We have chosen a verse composed by myself

to be performed here tonight.

However, before we present this offering,

the proper mood must be set.

Unfortunately, I am unable to play the
piano,

but my sister Flora is really quite
accomplished.

Flora?

Please begin.

Very good, Flora.

Come over here, now.

Our piece is entitled, "The Gift Eternal."

- Darkness is a shroud to cover.

- Darkness is the cloak we wear.

- We do not fear the vast blackness.

- We wear shadows in our hair.

FLORA: Darkness calls us to a reckoning.

- Calls us to its' close embrace.

FLORA: We shall soon be there to meet it.

MILES: But we cannot see its face.

FLORA: In the dark, the grave doth it.

MILES: And the coffin cannot hold.

FLORA: Those of us who love the darkness.

MILES: Darkness is our final throe.

- Has something happened, miss?

What's wrong?

- I thought I saw, reflected in that mirror
-
-

- Yes, miss?

- Evil.

It was evil.

- Do tell me if you liked our performance?

- Oh yes, very much.

- Did it entertain?

- Yes, quite.

You were both excellent.

- Perhaps we should go to London and appear on stage.

Wouldn't that be exciting?

- Oh, London is a pest hole, my dear.

No, we shall stay here at Bly to
entertain our beloved Mrs.

Grose.

And of course, dear Miss Clubberly.

- Knowledge becomes the armor one wears

against adversity, and in my quest

for more knowledge of Peter Quint,

I decided to pay a visit on the following
morning

to Luke Ames at the stables.

Morning, Timothy.

- Oh, good morning, miss.

JANE: You're grooming him beautifully.

What a lovely horse.

- Oh, thank you, miss.

I guess my father's taught me everything
there

is to know about horses.

He knows horses better than people.

- Tell me something, Timothy.

Do you remember Mr. Quint?

- Yes.

JANE: Did you like him?

- I was little and he didn't pay me much mind.

- Oh, I know you were, Timothy, but you must remember something

about him.

What was he like?

- I didn't like him. JANE: Why not?

- He was mean and nasty.

Once I saw him ride a horse to death.

Mean when he drank.

And this one Sunday, he came to the stables

with his favorite riding horse, a lovely
black mare,

and rode her till she dropped.

He came back cursing out as if it

was our fault she died on him.

He was cruel, Mr. Quint was.

- Is your father here?

- Round the back, working.

JANE: Oh, Luke?

Morning, Luke.

LUKE: Morning, miss.

Is there something I can do for you, miss?

- Yes.

You could talk to me, Luke.
- Talk to you, miss?

- I have some questions I'd like answered.

- Would you like some hot tea?

I can fix some up with no trouble.

- No, thanks.

- It's just as well.

Place is in a mess.

Me and Tim, we don't get many visitors.

- Well, he's a fine boy.

I'm sure you're proud of him.

- Oh I am, miss.

Got a natural way with horses, Tim has.

I taught him to sit a saddle before he
could walk.

What was it you wanted to talk of, miss?

- Peter Quint.

- If you don't mind, miss, I'd rather not talk about him.

- Why, Luke?

Did you ever have any trouble with Him

- Yes, miss, I had my troubles with Mr. Quint.

- Please, Luke, it's very important to me.

- If you don't mind my asking, miss, why should Peter Quint

be important to you?
- Because I just need to know.

Please, Luke.

- All right, miss.

What do you want to know?

- Well, the night Peter Quint died on the road,

who found his body?

- Why, Miss Jessel.

She'd been with him, you see.

- I understood he fell on the icy road?

Yes, miss. Drunk, he was.

- And what about her?

Was she not drunk, also?

LUKE: Oh, it's public knowledge, miss.

They'd been seen together, drinking and
roistering.

- And when they found him, what was the condition of his body?

- Condition, miss?

- What exactly killed him?

- His skull was crushed.

Most say he hit his head on a rock, some
say different.

- Go on, Luke.

- Well, some say it were Jessel did him in on the road

that night.

Was crazy jealous she was over his
traffic with other women.

All I know is, she went clean out of her
head afterward.

- So that's why she killed herself.

LUKE: You might say that, miss--

you just could might.

- Tell me, Luke, why don't you like Master Miles?

For For the same reasons I didn't like
Peter Quint.

- What do you mean?

LUKE: If you don't mind, miss, that's all
I'm saying.

As I left the stables

and approached the house, I heard piano
music

and assumed that Flora was at practice.

I soon realized this could not be

so, for the music was quite professional--

a beautifully executed rendition of Bach.

Was that you playing, Miles?

- Yes, miss.

- But at the recital last night, you said you couldn't play.

- I lied.

JANE: Why?

- Simply to make Flora appear as talented as I. After all,

I'd written the verse.

It was only right that Flora be allowed
to play.

- Yes, but why lie about it?

Why not simply let her play without comment

as to your own inability?

Why make a point of it?

- I thought it best she appear as superior to me

in that instance.

Perhaps I was in error.

I regret the lie, Miss Cubberly,
particularly now

as it seems to have upset you.

- Well, please continue.

I had no idea that you had such a talent
for Bach.

- I am tired now, Miss Cubberly.

I had planned to take a nap before supper.

- Please, I'd like to hear you play, Miles.

- And unhappily, I must decline, dear miss.

I really am quite fatigued.

- Late that afternoon,

after correcting some of the children's
work papers,

I was on my way to the school room

when I suddenly ran into little Flora.

Ooh!

- Please forgive me, miss.

- You're in an awful hurry.

- I was just off into the garden.

Would you come play with me?

- No, I can't.

I've got your lessons to get ready for
tomorrow.

Where's Miles?

- Oh, he's off exploring somewhere with Timothy.

You know how boys are.

- Well, I tell you what
-
- why don't you go into the garden

and pick some flowers for the house,

and that'll keep you busy.

- Very well.

Miss Cubberly?

I've often wondered something.

Do horses scream?

I mean, when they die--

when you kill them.

JANE: Never thought of such a thing.

You vile, miserable woman.

Flora!

Come here at once!

- She was here, wasn't she, Flora?

You were in here with her, and you heard
me coming.

That's why you lingered in the hall.Say
it, Flora, say it!

- I'm all alone.

I'm alone in here.

- Please leave me.

Having been awakened in the night

from a troubled sleep by strange sounds I
could not identify,

I discovered that Flora was missing from
the room.

Miles also was afoot in this late hour,
his bed unslept in.

Then, as I stood there, I heard again

those sounds which had awakened me.

Bly House has many closed rooms, and it
was to one of these,

in the deserted west wing, that the
disturbing night

sounds drew me.

- You found us, you clever thing.

Cheers for Miss Cubberly.

- Someone else was here, I heard them.

- Oh, you heard us, my dear. Flora was tickling me.

She's quite a dreadful disease. CHILDREN:

- You shall both be punished for this.

And this time, I shall not be lenient.

I've had enough of your late night
excursions.

- And what will you do to us, my dear?

Will you chain us to the walls?

- And feed us not but bread and water while

rats crawl around our skin?

- Will you whip us with cat
-o
-nine
-tails until

our backs are striped and bloody?

- You shall both be separated and confined to your rooms.

There will be no riding, and no outings,

and no playing of games.

- And for how long are we to be confined?

- I shall determine that in due course.

You may both return to your rooms.

- It's been two days now, miss.

The children have had their punishment,
wouldn't you say?

Poor dears.

- They are not poor dears.

They deliberately provoked me into
punishing them.

They knew they were doing wrong, going to
that room,

doing what they did.

- What did they do that was so bad?

- They watched them--

that infamous pair with their lust.

Is that not enough, Mrs. Grose?

They have been corrupted, both of them,
perhaps

beyond redemption.

- Oh, miss.

I wasn't going to tell you--

not for a time, at least.

- Tell me what?

- About Luke and his boy.

They've gone. JANE: Gone?

Gone where? What do you mean?

- Well, it was what happened last Thursday to Timothy.

We kept it from you, miss.

JANE: Was he injured?

- Well, not injured, exactly.

It-- it had to do with Master Miles.

- Tell me what happened.

- Well, he did something, I don't know what,

to Timothy while they were playing.

Luke said he found his boy in the stables
half out

of his mind.

- You mean frightened?

- Terrified, miss, at something Mater Miles had done or said.

I just don't know.

JANE: Well, didn't Timothy say what had
happened?

- Not to me, miss.

And Luke, he wouldn't speak of it.

He just packed up and took little Tim

and said he was never coming back to Bly.

- Did you ask Miles about this?

- Yes, miss, but he said he just couldn't understand

why Timothy would make such a fuss
because nothing really

happened.

- Oh, he'd call it nothing.

- Pardon, miss?

- At this very moment, in his room, he's not alone.

Quint is there--

Peter Quint is with him.

MRS. GROSE: Oh, miss.

- Flora
-
- that Jessel woman with young Flora.

The children don't need us, dear woman,
they've got them.

And Flora's needlework-- have you seen it?

- Oh, I have, miss, it
-
- it's quite remarkable.

- Oh yes, indeed it is.

That's no little child's work.

That's Jessel's work.

She held the needle, not Flora.

Why, I am not deceived, Mrs. Grose, I see
it all.

All!

If you could but see him as I have--

those innocent children steeped in their
visions

of the dead restored.

- I try to believe you, miss, but I have not

witnessed what you have.

- Now, up there, they're talking to them.

I go on, I know, as if I was mad.

It's God's wonder I'm not.

What I have seen would made you so,

but it has only made me more lucid and more

determined to drive these hollows out.

I have written to Mr. Fredericks telling
him

he is sorely needed here.

Can you see that this letter is posted?

- Why, yes, miss.

Did you give him all the details of the
matter?

- Oh no, I dared not.

If I told him what was truly happening
here,

he would think me mad.

No, that letter is a plea, no more.

If he'll but heed it.

- Yes.

Yes.

I hear you.

I'll come.

Yes.

Yes, I'll come.

- Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Miss Cubberly?

Oh, miss, I've just come from miss
Flora's room.

I'm so worried about her.

She hasn't had a bite to eat and I

do wish you'd reconsider their punishment.

- Well, she's a perfectly healthy child,

and she's not about to die of starvation.

- No, miss, but what good will it do

continuing their confinement?

Oh please, miss, I'm truly worried about
her.

- Yes, my dear, come in.

- I've come to tell you your punishment is over.

You are no longer confined to your room.

MILES: Miss Cubberly, I've been reading

a book about a prince in the 15th century
in Transylvania

who employed a unique method of punishment.

- Miles.

MILES: Oh no, dear, you must listen, it's
fascinating.

When someone displeased him, he ordered

them stripped naked and impaled on a stake.

He would often eat his dinner surrounded
by his victims.

Nasty fellow with all, wouldn't you say?

- Now Miles, we're going to stop this.

The playing of word games no longer
amuses me.

What should happen if your uncle should
arrive now?

What would you tell him?

- About what, my dear?

- What's happening here in this house...

about Timothy.

- You mean tell Uncle I've been wicked?

- You know what I mean exactly.

Oh, Miles.

- Poor Miss Cubberly.

We have put you through a lot, haven't we?

Oh, my dear.

You look so pale of late--

so drained of color, and so tired.

There, is that better?

Does that relax you?

- Is there nothing?

Nothing at all that you want to tell me?

That you will tell me?

- But you know what there is to know.

- Miles, please believe me, I don't

want you to suffer this alone.

But you must trust me and you trust trust
what I'm saying.

- If only-- if only you could--

- What, Miles?

I'll do anything to save you.

- I should like to know something.

- Yes?

- You talk of saving me, but tell me,

who, dear lady, is to save you?

- Oh, miss, it's Flora.

I've just seen her from the window,
running.

- A child out in the storm?

She's running where, in what direction?

MRS. GROSE: Toward the pond, miss.

- What's wrong?

- Miles, your sister is out there in that storm.

We are going after her. You will stay here.

- Yes, certainly, Miss Cubberly.

Besides, I shouldn't fancy getting soaked
out there.

A fellow has to watch his health.

- As we plunged forward,

I dared not consider what might await us
at the pond,

for I was certain that the woman had
snatched Flora from me

at a time when the infernal creature
sensed I might break

through to the child.

And what she might do at this late and
critical juncture

was a thought I could not bear.

Flora!

Flora!

Come back!

FLORA:

MRS. GROSE: Flora.

- Flora!

Flora, what made you do it?

She did it because of her out there!

You saw her, didn't you?

- I saw nothing, miss.

- Well, Flora saw her, clearly.

- Take me away, take me away!

She hates me!

She tries to make me say things that
aren't true.

- Come now, say it!

Admit you saw your precious Miss Jessel.

Say it, Flora, say it.

- I saw nobody!

I never have-- never, never, never!

I hate you, you're vile and horrible.

MRS. GROSE: Oh, you've gone too far with
the child, miss.

We know Miss Jessel's dead and buried,
don't we, Miss Flora?

- Then you tell me, Mrs. Grose.

Who was out there luring that child to
her death?

- I hate her, I hate her.

I hate her.

If only...

MRS. GROSE: Flora, dear, come on.

FLORA: She's horrible, she
-
-
- Come on, now shh.

Hush now, hush.

Oh, shh.

- She's hateful.

She's vile.

- Master Miles?

Master Miles, open the door.

Master Miles, please open the door.

Master Miles has locked his door, won't
answer me,

won't budge from his room.

And the letter you wrote to Mr.
Fredericks, it's gone.

I'm afraid Mr. Miles has taken it off the
table in the hall.

- Never mind.

You leave Miles to me.

Have you packed Flora's things?

- Yes, miss.

We'll take the carriage out tonight.

- And what does she say of me?

- Oh, oh, miss, I--

I don't think I should.

- Tell me.

You must tell me.

- She fears you, miss.

- Fears me?

No fear of Jessel, is that it?

- She said not a word of Miss Jessel,

but she's spoken the most dreadful
horrors, miss,

about you.

Used quite dreadful words I'd no idea she
knew.

- Thank God.

That justifies me.

- That child's appalling language?

- But it justifies me, don't you see that?

They're not her words, they're Jessel's.

And Jessel's lost her now.

She tried to take her down at the pond,
but she lost.

And now she rages through the child.

- I'll take her to London, far away from them.

- Then you do believe?

- I believe, miss.

- Take the child quickly and go.

Leave me with Miles.

- Alone with the boy, miss?

- Yes, don't you see?

He wants to speak to me, to release himself

and confess this whole vile business.

I can make him speak.

- And if he confesses, what then?

- Why, then he's saved.

Quint has lost.

They've lost the pair of them, Quint and
Jessel.

Now go quickly, take the child.

Let me save Miles.

Don't you see that, dear Mrs. Grose?

That now I'm the only one in all this
world that can.

FLORA: Goodbye, miss.

Goodbye, Miles.

As the storm continued

to assail Bly House, it was as if Miles
and I were alone

in a great wooden ship, out in the midst
of raging seas

and cut off from all friendly shores.

I mounted towards Miles' room with a
sense of high resolve.

I knew that my greatest test lay ahead--

that the monstrous Quint would make his
final attempt

this night, and that I must be steeled
against weakness

of mind or body.

The boy's life-- his soul--

was literally in my hands.

Miles?

Will you open your door to me, Miles?

- Do come in.

My door is always open to you, Miss
Cubberly.

Do you like my outfit?

I thought I would dress properly for the
occasion.

And this is an occasion, our being alone
together at Bly.

Will Flora be all right, or is the dear
child ill?

- Flora will be fine.

Mrs. Grose has taken her to London to
your uncle's.

Flora's in an emotional state.

She needed to get away from Bly.

- From Bly?

Or from you, my dear?

- She's quite distressed.

She is not at all herself.

London will calm and restore her.

- I am sure it will.

I suppose I should have said good bye,

but good byes are tiresome and pointless

if those who depart return.

- I doubt that Flora will ever return to Bly.

There's nothing for her here but sadness.

- And what does Bly hold for you, my dear?

- A challenge.

One I must meet.

- Oh, so we're together.

And what a strange pair we make, I say.

Why did you stay, Miss Cubberly?

You could have gone with them.

- I'd never leave you alone here, Miles, you know that.

- Alone?

One is never alone.

JANE: Then who is with you?

MILES: My thoughts.

My past.

All the things of my life are here

with me, as they are with you.

- I'm here as your friend, Miles.

- And I as yours, my dear.

Oh, you've been splendid with me on the
whole.

My recent confinement was, of course,
quite deserving.

I hold you in high regard.

In fact, I must confess something.

- Yes?

- I'm starved.

Couldn't we continue our talk over tea
and biscuits?

I so enjoy hot biscuits soaked in honey.

We shall have a high old time for
ourselves,

shant we, dear Miss Cubberly?

On such a night as this, I so prefer
brandy over tea.

I am so sorry you won't join me.

- All right, Miles, I will join you.

- Good girl.

There you are, my dear.

A toast.

- To what?

- To us, of course.

The two of us here at Bly on a storm
tossed night.

To our relationship.

And now what have you to say to me?

I know you have much to say.

- I want to talk truth with no evasions

and no verbal tricks and no shunting aside.

MILES: Of what?

- Of what we both know--

of what Flora knew.

- Ask me anything.

You'll have your truth.

JANE: Very well.

That letter that I wrote to your uncle--

did you take it from the hall table?

- I took it, yes.

JANE: And read it?

- Yes. It was dull.

Nothing more than a highly emotional

request that my uncle return to Bly.

I had hoped for more.

- You had no right to take it.

- Who are you to write it?

Knowing this, you knew that my uncle is
not to be troubled.

This is a tiresome subject that you wish
to discuss with me.

- All right.

Your school.

Why were you dismissed and not to be
readmitted?

- Because I said things.

- Only that?

- They thought it enough.

- To turn you out for?

- Yes.

- To whom did you say them?

- My chums, mainly.

Those I liked.

- And did they repeat them? - Yes.

To those they liked.

- And so said these things that you said,

they eventually got around to your
headmaster?

- Eventually.

- But in his letter, he gave no specific reason for dismissal.

- I'm not surprised.

I wouldn't have expected him to write the
things I'd said down

on paper. One doesn't.

Does one?

- Were they vile, then?

- I'm not going to repeat them to you, dear,

if that's what you're after.

I shouldn't wish to corrupt you.

- So they were corrupting, were they, to the other children?

He taught them to you, didn't he, Miles,

as he taught you so much else.

As he taught you foul words and foul deeds.

He's corrupted you, Miles, hasn't he?

Can't you see that? He's made you now
what you are.

- Won't you leave me alone?

I'm sick of your questions!

- Miles.

- No, no, leave me alone.

- Miles!

Don't run from me, Miles.

- Why are you doing this to me?

Hounding me, trying to trap me?

What are you going to gain from it?

JANE: I'm a friend, Miles.

I'm your only real friend.

Please, you need me.

- Need you?

I loathe you.

I despise you.

Can't you see that?

You're such a stupid bitch!

- He's here, isn't he, Miles?

Right here in this house.

Say it, Miles, tell me he's here, isn't he?

Say it, say it!

- Yes, yes, yes, damn you, woman!

You want to hear me say it?

Peter Quint is here!

JANE: No, Miles!

He'll destroy you.

Miles, he wants to claim you, to claim
your soul.

He wants to make you the way he is.

Miles, you can do it--

you can win, you can be free of him
forever.

Turn your back on him, Miles!

Miles, reject Peter Quint.

Come to me!

To me!

Oh, Miles, you're all right, now.

There, dear, dear, dear boy.

No!

No more, no more!

Oh, I'm sorry.

I really am sorry.

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.