Original subtitles

Come, poll, do you know my friend, lord Mortimer?

Brain small, his belly big.

It's one of the lunatics from the asylum, I expect, milord.

- A prank? A jest? - Go and see, John.

It does not look so merry a place, milord.

You'll have to pay master sims tuppence,

to see all the loonies in their cages.

Maybe they'll teach you some new tricks, Nell.

I have no need of their wit to entertain you, milord.

They say, sir, that one of the poor devils in there

fell from the roof, trying to escape.

Very regrettable. Well, drive on.

Your lordship, it seems to me the man was known to you.

I thought I saw him in your company not a week gone by, sir.

Ey, really? Well, let's have a look.

Uh, you, there. You with the light.

He fell trying to escape.

Some of our boos haven't sense enough

- fetch him. - He is dining out, milord.

Dining out with Colby's blood on his hands.

- Do you know me? - Yes, milord.

Then, tell master sims to wait upon me in the morning.

I have some few words I wish to say to him.

Parrot: Oh, lord Mortimer's like a pig.

Will you remind lord Mortimer that I'm waiting?

Well, pompey, are you a pretty boy this morning?

What are you trying to do, pompey?

Milord, I want to look like the visitor in the hallway.

Sims! I'd forgotten sims!

You there! Clear out.

First course for milord's rage.

Nell: To be eaten with a sauce of lightning,

and to the tune of thunder. Send him in.

Nell: Send him in. Lord Mortimer: Sims. Sims!

Lord Mortimer: Quiet! I'll tell you why.

That you hated him, I knew.

That you envied him was known to all...

But that you would dare...

Dare to leave that murderous window open

to murder him from spite and envy!

Murder, milord? There was no murder.

Colby was my guest.

He chose to leave by a window,

before I could open the door for him.

And then that, that monstrous accident.

Master sims is writing a new dictionary.

Are accidents contrived, plotted, executed?

This was a misadventure contrived by the victim,

and executed by nature's law,

that all who lose their grip on gutters must fall.

You stick to that story, master sims?

I could never invent one half so droll.

Two poets, Colby and myself.

But I am not only a poet,

but also, by your lordship's favor

St. Mary's of Bethlehem hospital.

My friend comes to discuss poetry.

I am absent. My guards, mistake him for a madman.

He tries to escape from them and is killed.

It's a romance that cost me 20 guineas and a night of laughter.

Lord Mortimer was foolish enough to pay an advance,

for poetry promised in the future.

Colby was to write a masque,

for the fete lord Mortimer is giving.

If I might offer my humble talents.

Even at the hospital I deal in wit and laughter, madam.

Are there any who have come to bedlam,

and say the entertainment is not worth the tuppence they paid?

You do not entertain me, master sims.

That is because you have a tender heart.

Master sims: Most people laugh at my ugliness.

It offends me, sir.

To move a lady so beautiful in any way...

He's gallant, too.

I am as you wish, milord.

And I will make your fete a frolic you will remember.

Sometimes the success of a play belongs to the players.

What if the masque were performed

by my company of wits, the bedlamites?

Have your loonies perform?

The opposition. Not John wilkes himself,

nor his whole whig party could think of anything

as clever as that, eh, Nell?

You didn't think of it, either.

Well, it's one and the same thing,

my... my friend here, thought of it.

Let us say that you inspired the thought, milord.

Do you hear that, Nell? I inspired him.

Let us say that you both inspired me.

Milord and the beloved of milord.

I think you misunderstand, master sims.

I am milord's protegee. I entertain him and he has

no more freedom with me than any other man.

In any case

if milord will but give me the day and hour of the fete

I will prepare a masque of madness

one week from today at the vauxhall.

- The company assembles at 8:00. - Thank you.

A merry notion.

The lord mayor will roll in the soup with laughter.

A capital fellow, this sims. A capital fellow.

If you ask me, milord, he's a stench in the nostrils,

a sewer of ugliness, and a gutter brimming with slop.

- But witty! - So, he tells us.

Even if his wit is wanting

his bedlamites will set my guests roaring.

Everyone who goes to bedlam expires with laughter.

Why don't you go and see them, Nell?

You'll see how funny they are.

.\

J' ladies come and buy my lavender j'

j' my sweet scented lavender j“

woman: Nice fresh toddies, all fresh.

J' now's the time to scent your handkerchief I

j' ladies come and buy my lavender j'

There is a quaker waiting for you, sir.

Will you have him in?

Where is my rhyming lexicon?

- I need a rhyme for Mortimer. - That quaker, sir.

Whatever are you rattling on aboutso, podge?

I have an important commission.

A rhymed comedy for milord Mortimer.

And you bother me about some sniveling quaker.

He's been waiting so long, sir.

- Waiting? - Three hours, sir.

Huh... I waited four hours before milord Mortimer

would give me a dog's word.

He's a good workman.

You may leave us, podge.

My man tells me you'll do the work cheaply.

With cut stone one foot thick, and the best mortar,

I can do the work for 15 guineas.

- What if I gave you 18 guineas? - It would be too much.

Eighteen guineas and you are to return to me two.

Then you'll have a better price,

and I'll have some reason to employ you.

My friend, I have forgotten what thee has said.

If thee do not repeat it,

then I can believe no evil of thee.

I've asked you for a bribe, man.

Have you never been asked before?

This is simple business between us two.

My friend, about the stonemasonry...

I had not looked forward to the pleasure

of seeing you again so soon, mistress Bowen.

I have a curiosity to see the loonies in their cages.

And so you shall. So you shall.

Your riding crop, mistress Bowen,

you must hang it here.

It's a law of the institute. No weapons.

In heaven's name, why?

In one of his plays, dekker,

a second-rate dramatist of the last century

"fierce as wild bulls, untamable as flies...

"And these have oft from strangers' sides,

strangely, here, one forgets you're a man of letters,

our hospital is ancient and well known. Much written of.

I dare say, no man or woman

comes to London from the country

Are they not witty, mistress Bowen?

And look at the frolic this one treats himself to.

To catch peacocks for the royal dinner.

They're all so lonely.

They're all in themselves and by themselves.

- They pay no heed to us. - Uh, you noticed that.

They have their world and we have ours.

Ours is a human world. Theirs is a bestial world.

Without reason. Without soul.

They're animals.

Some are dogs.

Those I let wallow in their own filth.

These I cage.

Some, like this one... Are doves.

I've seen enough.

But you haven't seen the other cages.

But you have no idea how merry they can be.

How much amusement they afford.

From that mad girl with her staring eyes?

If I have offended you, mistress Bowen...

Nell: Thank you, sir.

My valet can plait a tress or twirl a furbelow,

I was glad to do thee this little service.

I saw thee strike sims. Thee shouldn't have done that.

Do you think I'm afraid of him?

- Do you think he could harm me? - Thee are able enough.

It is those poor ones in there I'm thinking of.

Sims will make them suffer for that blow.

Are we lovers that you "thee" and "thou" me?

I've never seen your face before.

I'm one of the society of friends.

I've heard of them. They turn the other cheek.

There is more to being a quaker than turning the other cheek,

and saying "thee" and “thou.“

it is feeling pity for those in there... as thee did.

Do you think I struck him

because I felt pity for the loonies?

- I saw it in thy face. - Pity?

I had no such feeling, sir.

I struck the man, because I wanted to.

Because he is an ugly thing in a pretty world.

There are many ugly things in this

pretty world if thee would but see them.

Master quaker, I did not always wear velvet.

I had guessed that. But where there is one like thee

to wrest comfort from a hard world with wit and cleverness

I have no pity for them. Let them do as I did.

But those in there, can they help themselves?

And I have no pity for them, either.

That is not thy thought.

In the evening, and you will see me laughing,

at these same loonies that you think I pity.

Thee will not laugh at the poor and the afflicted. Not thee.

I've seen great ladies and their hearts were like stone.

- But thee... - My heart is a flint, sir.

It may strike sparks, but they are not warm enough to burn.

I have no time to make a show of

loving kindness before my fellowmen.

Not in this life. I've too much laughing to do.

Flanked by lunacy...

And speaking with the voice of youth,

will tell you of its brightest adornment,

Come, reason, you've wit enough to say a word or two.

Lord Mortimer: That's a Tory joke for you.

And only the tories will laugh at it.

The opposition wonders what the effect

may be on that poor sick boy.

Wilkes: The tories care only for the jest,

but we whigs have some concern for the humanities.

Give them a jest and they answer with a political tirade.

- The effect. - Go ask him.

He'll make you a speech on the matter.

To this pretty world. Pretty world.

Good, good. The great voice of reason.

The...

Of our age...

Come on, come on, I spent all morning

You see, milord,

reason is overcome with emotion when it must speak of you.

- Prod him on, sims. - Go on.

A few more of those golden words I taught you, lad.

Somewhere I heard that the human body

if you shut those pores...

Like a Jewel...

Another word, good, gentle reason.

Prince of men.

A bit of canvas, a handful of coarse sand

isn't that harsh treatment for a sick lad?

They have to get the gilt off if he is to be well again.

Nell: So you know that.

You know that anyone painted over

as thick as that poor lad will die.

If I understand you properly this boy is dying...

This boy is dead because his pores are clogged by the gilt.

Well, then, sweet mistress Bowen,

since you are such a stickler for the correct definition

you will Grant me the legal fact

that this boy died by his own exhalations.

You might say he poisoned himself.

Milord, have we not had enough of this?

Enough of that boring, dull man and his cruelty.

- He shall make you laugh. - Spare me that.

- But, Nell... - A boy died tonight.

A boy who had no mind to guide his thoughts or deeds.

Maybe there'll be some concern about that among the whigs.

Nell: Certainly none among the tories.

You'll find they're laughing, too.

Liberty. That is a great word you whigs found somewhere.

Butjust the same, you'll end

either with the pox or on the gallows.

That, milord, depends on whether I embrace your sweetheart

or your politics.

Here is alfrieda, queen of the artichokes.

Sims: She will sing for you.

J' here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen j“

j' here's to the widow of fifty j'

j' here's to the flaunting extravagant queen j“

j' and here's to the housewife who's thrifty j'j'

This is a strange place to see thee, mistress Bowen.

A little dull, perhaps, but a good enough place

to ask the questions I want to ask.

So far, mistress Bowen, I have found thee

more ready with answers than with questions.

Don't worry, my questions are pert enough.

First, do you think me a woman of kind heart?

- I have told thee so. - Why?

I saw thy face at bedlam.

I've never seen that in my mirror.

But let's say I Grant the fact.

Let's say I saw things that moved me to pity.

Perhaps, god sent thee here, that thee might find guidance.

- From you? - I have not said so.

Perhaps he sent thee here so we might speak together.

I have seen things tonight I have no liking for.

My friends laughing at sorry idiots,

brought out from bedlam to amuse them.

- A poor boy. - Thee need not tell me.

It's a bad time for the poor, and the people suffer

the ones with wit, and the ones without.

And if you feel sorry for them, what do you do about all this?

I do what I can. I am a stonemason.

- How does that help people? - I build well.

Let others build as well, and soon this city

will become a clean and decent habitation.

I'm only a Jester to bring laughter

perhaps, even in the amusement of Mortimer

there is a way that thee can help the poor people in bedlam.

Is not Mortimer a member of the council?

Good. You're not such a fool as I thought you.

Why don't you take off your hat? Have you no liking for me?

It is a rule among the friends to uncover only before god.

Milord will see you now, master sims.

- Good morning, mistress Bowen. - Good morning.

Ah, sit down and wait a bit. I have news for you.

I trust you enjoyed the fete.

You will hear presently how much I enjoyed it.

Sims, you have no idea what we've decided.

She wants to turn bedlam upside down

and make all the loonies happy as linnets.

You can't imagine what a clever Vixen she is, sims.

Thought it all out herself before she even spoke to me.

Beds, blankets, some to sew, some to bake. Good food.

I can quite understand what mistress Bowen wants.

Good food in bedlam for along while.

You forgot to mention good treatment, master sims.

That, too. I'm sure we could afford that.

You can't imagine the gratitude I bear you, mistress Bowen.

These reforms you propose will make my name stand out

- we knew you'd agree. - I'm overjoyed, milord.

Good, good. You see, it's done, Nell.

There is but one small point.

The trifling matter of money.

Milord has already thought of that.

Of course, of course.

That's generous of you, milord. Very generous.

How so, sims? What sort of generosity?

Does not milord have property in moorfields?

A dozen dwelling houses, a warehouse, two inns...

You see, sims, I know my accounts.

And I know your properties.

They are taxable by the institute.

Therefore, milord, this reform will cost you not less than

five hundred guineas in additional taxes.

But what is that to you, milord, a mere bagatelle.

Some little gift you'd gladly give to mistress Bowen.

I will relinquish that little gift, master sims.

I gave you no gift, Nell.

She's merely speaking of a gift she's not going to have.

Now take master wilkes. He'd never be so generous.

He would say, "loonies don't vote."

But that's true. There's nothing to be had from them.

You were going to do, this as a good deed, milord.

There'd be so much I would have to do without.

Nell, we're going to have to forget this whim of yours.

It is the first thing I've ever asked of you.

But milord has to keep up appearances at court.

You've no idea what an expense that is to a man.

That's true. You have no idea, Nell,

what a great responsibility it is to be rich.

- What an expense. - It's simply this, milord.

I've asked you to do a good deed, and you find

the very thought of it too expensive.

You have no right to speak to me that way, Nell.

I've all the rights of having put up

with you for nearly a year, milord.

Trying to make you laugh, and then listening to that fat laugh

of yours as it comes rumbling out of your fat throat.

Put up with me? Put up with me?

But look what I've done for you.

You'd be camping in the rain on strathmore common

with the other strolling players if you hadn't caught my eye.

Do you call that weak and watery vessel your eye?

I would not want to look at the world through it.

I would not want to be a dull man

I would not want to bribe and be bribed

to Fawn upon the king and kick the commoner.

In short, milord, I would not want to be lord Mortimer.

You would not want? You would not want...

Nor do I want to be with you. Not for an instant longer.

Maybe being rich and great and powerful is infectious.

It's a disease I don't want to catch.

Such angry words.

Of course, as I pointed out to you, milord,

you have every right to take legal steps.

You've been very helpful, sims.

To have been the cause of this quarrel.

It's not your fault.

May I guide you to the door, master sims?

You know lord Mortimer's signature?

I can recognize a pig's tracks when I see them.

Then you know I have the right

to remove the furniture which he loaned you.

It's all legal. All by order.

That's not lord Mortimer's. That's not lord Mortimer's.

She's no present to be given and taken back.

She's been with mistress Bowen since mistress Bowen

played "Aurora" in the rivals.

We were very good in that.

Serves me right, varney.

A kind heart butters no parsnips.

But what shall we do, mistress Bowen?

We've got nothing but the clothes we wear and poor poll.

Remember, my clear, if gin is offered, you must take wine.

You'll be merry enough on wine.

Well, you told me lord Mortimer likes a witty girl.

Best leave the wit to me, I'll make you seem witty.

Oh, I can crack a joke well enough.

Not in good company, my dear niece.

You're not accustomed to it, you know.

I have known some gentlemen.

A man from whose largesse many blessings

can come to the family of sims.

And just for a little laughter. That's all he wants.

Afine lord, indeed. Mocked by a parrot.

But this parrot is our key to open milord's friendship to you.

Now remember, you were offended. You offered money. You...

Pardon, milord, this is my niece, kitty.

She does you honor, sims.

But have you heard the latest news of my lady?

Brave mistress Nell. What a jest she's hit upon.

It is because of that that we are here.

A great bit ofjapery, sims. What a Vixen!

I hardly thought to find you in such humor.

Oh, it's only a jest.

Nell has the bird for sale in the marketplace.

Letting it scream that silly ditty...

"Lord Mortimer is like a pig.

His brain is small and his belly big.“

all of London's come to laugh at the bird.

So they have. And it does you no good, milord.

That joke can make your proud name, a mockery.

Well, now, the bird won't sing too long.

I've sent pompey to buy it.

That girl holds the bird at a high enough price.

My niece, knowing of my affection for you,

tried to buy the bird.

She offered 20 guineas and was refused.

Mistress Bowen wants more honey

pompey has a purse with a 100 guineas in it.

A100 guineas for a bird?

Will you have some wine, mistress sims?

Oh, wine is too French for me, milord.

It's the way I feel about men.

I like men to be as big as beer and as strong as gin.

Beer has a head on it, you know

and you can't say that for wine.

And gin has muscle in it.

And you can't say that for wine, either.

Bless me. I have never heard anyone put it that way before.

There is much to be said for our national institutions.

She said it was not enough.

What sort of game is this?

Mistress Bowen told me to tell you

and that you could sell every property you owned

and not have money enough to buy it.

So, that's the way the wind blows, milord.

The girl digs her spurs too deep.

But, milord, we can always make her my guest.

No, no...

She's as sane as you and I.

He was my guest.

We've been good comrades, Nell and I.

- I'll not do that. - As you wish, milord.

Here, milord. Confusion to your enemies.

You can't restrain a parrot from slander.

You can't exercise the right of privacy against a bird

but I think I have a way, milord.

It'll make you a lion.

I'm an angry man.

There are laws against the depredations of livestock.

Is not a parrot livestock?

Are you not suffering great loss?

You know that he who steals my purse

steals trash, but he who...

Why, I heard that at the playhouse.

We can swear out a writ of seizure, send a bailiff

for the parrot and have it here within the hour.

- We could do that. - Indeed we can.

Alright! Come along.

I told thee no good would come of it.

Thee cannot mock thy friends this way.

Mock him? He'll wish I'd only mocked him when I've finished.

- Softly. Bah! - I swore I'd wring its neck.

Give me that bird, varney.

Your gifts you can take back, milord, but the parrot was mine,

is mine, and remains mine as long as I want.

Thee must be careful of other's property.

Curse you, man. You shall fight me for this!

Thee can see I carry no weapon.

I do not fight nor brawl with other men.

- You shall fight me! - Icannol

fight or I'll run you through!

- Will you fight? - Milord!

My friend, thee, has no quarrel with me.

Let me go!

Thee must not mock thy friend.

Parrot: Lord Mortimer. Lord Mortimer.

Thee can earn an honest living for thyself.

I had to sew my costumes when I was on the stage.

Two shillings a week and all found for a seamstress.

One can live well on that if one is frugal.

What would I do with varney? Who'd have him?

Thee has not strength enough for a Mason, varney.

- You see? - Just the same.

I'll give varney work.

He has strength enough for that.

He sweeps and I sew.

All very fine, but not very exciting.

What do you think about it, varney?

I like a merry life, mistress Bowen.

And so, by blazes, so do I.

Everyone makes his living with his own tricks.

Nell: My tricks are not yours, master stonemason.

Varney: If I may say a word, mistress Bowen,

you still have many friends.

Oh, but, he's always talking about fontenoy.

So far as I am concerned, dear mistress Bowen,

you need not teach your parrot

any special phrases for my benefit.

Am I to understand from that, master wilkes,

that you're not interested?

- Not in bedlam nor in me? - I did not mean that.

I meant only that I am a different sort of man

I am not easily pleased.

I think you expect too much, master wilkes.

You want to fight the nastiness and corruption of bedlam.

I offer you political alliance with John wilkes

whom his gracious majesty has pleased to call "that devil.“

bring me the evidence and I'll be pleased to take it to court.

Let us say that puts a brighter face on matters, master wilkes.

One gives a girl a kiss to seal a certain kind of bargain, Nell.

This is a rather public place, master wilkes.

But one shakes hands with a comrade and a friend.

That is a blow I'll leave you to administer.

I have one of his to ward away.

Milord thought it would be best to make friends again.

On your advice, I suppose, and for some purpose of your own.

Every word he says is true and better put than I could say it.

Well, so, we're friends again.

You go your way and I go my way...

But friends are not that off-handed

milord would like to be kind to you.

I'm duly warned. Go on.

Milord thinks you've been looking rather pale of late.

Perhaps the waters of bath, a rest.

Milord, you know that I have a contempt

for certain kinds of money.

How deep that contempt is, I am about to show you.

The bank of england, thanks you for 300 pounds.

Tomorrow, after the commission for lunacy examines her,

not at you nor at me.

Here.

You sign here.

Confound me, sims, I can't sign this. She's not mad.

She's not a danger to herself and others as it says here.

Sign, milord. She's a danger to my position and your properties.

Alone, she means nothing,

but with wilkes behind her, she's more dangerous to us

Well, gentlemen, here is your lunatic.

I'm 23 years of age. Born at rye.

My parents are dead, and I have no husband or child.

What more would you wish to know?

The commission of lunacy will frame

the questions for you, mistress Bowen.

And I can read and write as readily

as any man I see before me.

Do you know the difference between right and wrong?

What is right for me is wrong for you,

that much I know, and vice versa.

Oh, don't fool yourselves.

A merry answer does not make me a fool, gentlemen.

And you shall have a sensible answer.

Mistress Bowen, is it true that some days past,

you refused the sum of 100 gold guineas

for a parrot not worth five shillings?

I had my reasons. It was a jest.

You know your sums?

If two and two make four, I do.

Added to another makes a greater number,

I presume you know a large sum of money from a small sum.

I only know that I like large sums

then, why did you refuse 100 guineas

for a parrot worth five shhhngs?

I have told you, it was a jest.

Knowing the value of money, mistress Bowen,

can you explain why it was you ate a banknote?

For a jest.

Master sims knows why I ate the money.

To show my contempt for it.

No. But at that moment,

it was the only way to show contempt.

I was angry and it was the first thing that occurred to me.

Do thoughts like that always occur to you when you're angry?

Surely, everyone does foolish things sometimes.

At a whim, for a prank.

Is it wise to eat money?

Gentlemen, would you permit me to communicate

he will speak for me.

You are not in need of any witnesses but your own sanity

and we shall judge the worth of that.

Mistress Bowen, you have asked for voluntary commitment

to enter St. Mary of Bethlehem's asylum.

The charges for your care and keep to be borne

I have here the commission's approval of your request.

The commission has adjudged you insane.

But I made no petition to enter bedlam.

Perhaps you did it as a jest, mistress Bowen.

You're not going to put me in bedlam?

I know what I say.

I did not ask for admission to bedlam.

Here in bedlam, my dear, we can't feed you banknotes.

Try chewing on this.

I want a biscuit. Polly want a biscuit.

You see, varney, now that he's mine,

I've already taught him a new and original trick.

But, mistress Bowen must have been here.

Now, my love, and how did you spend the night?

Voyage? Oh, no, not a voyage.

Just a trip to the country, to ride.

To listen to the Twitter of the birds.

I would invite you, my dear, but it's a bachelor affair.

Sports, you know...

Well, all good things must end, milord.

I'll have a bit of the gin.

And another little sip to get rid of the dry taste of piety.

I thought there was precious little of that in this house.

There's a quaker out there who wants to see you.

Pompey is sending him about his business.

Such a person has never been known in this household.

Come now. Thee must know that to be an untruth.

Mistress Bowen had tea with milord only yesterday.

Your young lady was the one who was telling tales.

There's been no woman in this household

but mistress sims since I can remember.

So they tell me.

- Where is the quaker? - He's been and gone.

- He must have just left. - That's likely.

J' apples a penny apples j'j'

varney: Master hannay. Master hannay.

I'll tell you where she is, master hannay.

I'll tell you where she is.

- They put her in bedlam. - In bedlam?

Ah, yesterday they summoned her. She's there now.

Well, friend, thee must come with me, we shall go to bedlam.

No, no, I can't go with you. I'm employed by milord.

You see, master stonemason, I have to live.

And you yourself said I didn't have

enough muscle for honest work.

It's enough that thee is an honest man, varney.

That thee ran all this way to tell me where she is.

Is that your name they call?

- How do they know I'm here? - They don't know.

Some of our poor companions spend their days

if they hear a new cry, they repeat it.

Then others take it up and so it goes.

But my name? How do they know it?

Someone must have shouted in the street.

Perhaps someone trying to reach you.

Thank you, thank you!

By George sims' order, isuppose.

Stonemason: And quickly, too.

A new ruling. You understand.

I understand only that I am a free man.

That I have money in my hand.

Thee has no legal right to deny me entry to a place

- quite true, quite true. - Well?

The warder will take your tuppence.

Sims: And now if you will leave your arms at the arms rack.

But I have no arms. I am of the society of friends.

Then I'm afraid we must return your tuppence.

Did you not quote the law to me?

Let me then quote the law to you.

It is a rule of our institute that all who enter the main hall

must hang their arms upon that rack.

Since you have none,

I cannot let you enter.

Thee cannot deny me entry for such cause.

Save yourself a walk, quaker. It's locked.

It's a rule, master quaker, and I break no rules.

As if it were a holiday.

On my own business, friend Smith

and without this good job of work

that we have, hannay.

Doing business a little strange, ah?

We've the work. We've the will. Let's at it, boys.

But thee hasn't the knack of it.

- Huh, thanks, hannay. - Maybe you'd give us a hand.

- There are but three of us. - I'd just as leave.

Hannay: One, two. Heave, all.

- Call. - One then two. Down we go.

- Thanks, hannay. - Thee is welcome.

Now you're here, hannay, you can see all

of bedlam without paying your tuppence.

Man 1: Can't he, lads? Man 2: That he can.

Man 2: All the wonders of bedlam and for nothing.

This corridor leads to the main room.

It's a little dark maybe, but if you get to

the end of it, you'll get an eyeful.

If thee don't mind, I'll go and look.

Hannay: Nell Bowen. All: Nell Bowen.

Hannay: Nell Bowen. All: Nell Bowen.

Hannay: Nell Bowen. All: Nell Bowen.

Hannay: Come, Nell.

- You've come to take me away? - No.

- There is no way. - Find wilkes.

Wilkes will get me out of here.

I had thought of that, I'll seek him out.

But until he can free thee, thee must be patient.

Patient? How can I be patient? I'm terrified.

- These people are like beasts. - So thee has that same thought.

- The same thought as sims. - No. But they frighten me.

They're dirty, savage, mindless.

- Disgusting. - Thee wanted to help them.

That's why they put thee here, for trying to aid them.

I still want to aid them, but I cannot here.

Not here where they're all about me.

All I want is release or a weapon to defend myself.

Thee has thy kindness and thy courage.

They can be sword and buckler to thee in this place.

I want something more than my naked hands

to help me if there should be trouble.

- Give me a weapon. - Thee knows I carry no sword.

Harm my fellow creatures.

Hannay: That is to build with.

It has a point. It has a handle.

Would you have me maimed, scratched, scarred?

The lord will not let it happen.

Give me the trowel and I'll not let it happen.

Look at my face again.

God forgive me for what I do.

Forgiven or not, at least I can defend myself.

.\

Wilkes will have me out of here like that.

I haven't seen wilkes in the last week.

- He's never at home. - He's electioneering.

- Where? - Anywhere in the kingdom.

But it's a matter of import, grave import.

A woman's reason hangs on it. I must see him.

He's ordered pamphlets and posters from me.

He must come here and when he does, I'll tell him.

She seems quite ladylike. Quite sane.

Or as I might express myself before the bar...

Compos mentis en iex.

We can have Dan and the four of us can play paroli.

Madam, would you care to join us?

That's kind of you. But I have no money.

Money? We play on our word.

I have a wealth of words. I don't cheat.

But I warn you, I'm not above

amending the mistakes of fortune.

This, mistress Bowen, is Oliver Todd.

He won't speak to you nor to me, but there's no harm in him.

Sometimes he fancies himself a dog.

Sidney: And he remembers how to play cards.

Sidney: I am long.

Sidney long, the crown solicitor.

Whose enemies will not let him practice at the bar.

I have many enemies.

I shouldn't have told you that.

This pillar are the safe ones.

The good ones. The wisest.

That's why they let us have the candle.

But the rest... You must be careful of the rest.

Now, I will hold the bank. Twenty thousand pounds.

Five pounds for a card.

Five whippets, ten bassets, one gazehound.

Anyone wish another card?

Fortune smiles at your first play.

- What card? - Knave of spades.

- Eight bulldogs. - What's that?

A poor wretch.

Sims gave him a dose of iron this morning.

The chains are scruffing his flesh.

They've heard too many groans to bother.

But what about you? Don't you ever help the others?

Why should we help? We are the people of the pillar.

Wait. I can't play with that going on.

- May I have the candle? - Sidney: Be careful of the straw.

Do your chains hurt you?

Would it help if! Put a bit of

cloth there to ease your arm?

Sidney: He's quiet now. That was kind of you.

It's just that I don't care for

sad music with my game of paroli.

- Sidney: A card? - Five pounds.

Sidney: Any others? Nell: Fifteen pounds.

Sidney: Anyone else? Banco.

A very pleasant group you make, dear people.

It's so nice to find you here

amongst the upper classes, mistress Bowen.

But that's exactly where I expected you to be.

It's a law of physics, the lighter elements,

like scum, rise to the top.

Thank you, master sims. A delicate compliment.

I see you've joined what little we have of society.

The group around the pillar.

Is this the brotherhood your quaker friend preaches?

Or perhaps you're afraid amongst the others.

- Then you have forgotten. - Forgotten what?

Forgotten that you were going to reform bedlam.

Sims: Cleanliness, soft beds for the

delight of the patients, good treatment.

You've been here a week, mistress Bowen

and your only friends are these.

Give me clean straw, I'll make beds for them.

Bandages, I'll bind their wounds.

- Water and soap... - That I would delight to see.

You shall have water. You shall have soap.

You shall have straw enough.

I hope you make good use of them.

I will, never fear.

I leave you to dream of these augean labors.

And may your dreams be sweet and cleanly.

But where is it? You promised a chapter for today.

I appeal to you, master long. Is it fair?

I support his family, feed his children,

even pay my tuppence to come in

and get my script, and it is not ready.

We've been busy, we've been helping mistress Bowen.

- Now about the next chapter... - No, not a warder, master gray.

An inmate like ourselves who does all she can

to help her fellow sufferers.

- But what can she do? - Look, I'll show you.

Sidney: What can she do, you ask?

Sidney: She can feed those who haven't wit enough

siney: She can wash the helpless.

She is an angel in this darkness.

Very interesting, but this book you have, those drawings?

Oh, the pictures?

You don't know half their wonder, master gray.

If I could only get a light behind these pages

I could throw them large as life upon the wall.

Aye, that's not a bad notion. One could charge admission.

You could even tell the story Todd's writing that way.

Oh, but, you forget.

It's because of these pictures

Yes, of course.

And you, Oliver...

You'd best finish that chapter by tomorrow

or I shall withdraw my support from your family, understand?

Dan, did you chance to see a trowel?

I'll build you a wall, a wall that high.

Master long, have you seen a trowel?

A trow... I beg your pardon?

A trowel. A m-Mason's instrument.

I mislaid it some days ago. I'd like it back.

Oh. Oh, yes, yes. A trowel.

I'm not mad, master long. I had a trowel.

Oh, certainly, mistress Bowen. We'll help you find it.

Sometimes, I think I've gone mad myself.

And all for people who don't even know

they know.

What a happy place this has become.

Everything is so much cleaner.

The idiots even have their faces washed.

Such a little time and this wonderful change in bedlam.

What wonders will you not accomplish in a lifetime?

Madam, you are to be congratulated.

- What do you want? - I want only to reward you.

Did you not ask for a separate sleeping apartment?

I'd like to sleep in peace.

The main room is noisy at night.

And I have a room for you.

A pretty chamber. If you will come with me?

Unfortunately, you will have to share

this comfortable apartment with one other.

But I'm sure you won't mind that.

This is your new chamber, my dear lady.

Won't you enter?

You've not driven me mad yet, sims.

I would not go in there.

And I wanted so much to please you.

Wait, this was to show you that all those

mawkish theories you learned from the quaker are lies.

Sims: Men are not brothers. Men are not born good and kind.

Even the mindless ones are savage

I know your thoughts on the matter, sims.

They do not interest me.

The others, yes, you can prove

the little value of gentleness.

But look at this man, look at him

and tell me that kind words

and tender deeds can rule him, look!

I am looking. It proves nothing.

But you don't dare enter the cage

with him, that proves much.

Sims: That proves the falsity of all

that you've come to believe.

- It does not. - Then enter the cage.

Gentle him with a word. Conquer him with kindness.

Or admit that your quaker lies.

My friend, you do not wish to hurt me, nor I you.

Perhaps you'd like to talk. I will listen to you.

I know, you're trying to remember.

Tom: I..., I...

And the bailiff came and she went with him to bedlam.

Apparently, sims fears an investigation.

Unwanted wives by that sweet expedient.

But it takes sims to forestall criticism with imprisonment.

I shall not believe such ill, even of him.

But she is there. I've spoken with her.

Mistress Nell with that bright, quick mind of hers

saner than either a politician or a quaker.

This is still england, hannay. And we have laws here.

Laws of right and justice.

And I shall see that sims feels their full weight.

We'll have Nell out of bedlam in a twinkle, never fear.

"Let hull, house of hull rejoice

with subis, a bird called the spight.

- Which breaks the eagle's eggs" - that's not right.

"Let scroop, house of scroop rejoice with fig-wine

palmi-primarium vinum" that's not so.

- Palmi-primum is the word. - That's not right.

"Let hollingstead, house of hollingstead

rejoice with sissitietaeris herb of good fellowship

praise the name of the lord September, 1762."

That's not the word of truth. The word of truth is peace.

Wiser people than you have fought over it, Betty.

A word with you. I have good news.

You are to have a new hearing before the commission.

Your hearing tomorrow afternoon.

I want to do everything possible to make

sure that your hearing is a success.

- That you will be released. - Thank you.

In fact, I have ordered

my most beneficent remedy for you.

- A remedy, master sims? - Have they not told you?

It's my own invention. A cure.

Specific for the lax and wandering mind, look at him.

When he came here, he had but one concern

to remember something he had forgotten.

I tried to help him with my remedy, but...

Perhaps I was not drastic enough.

Sims: Just to be sure, mistress Bowen.

- Nell: No. - I've given you an invitation.

Now I must speak as your physician. Come with me.

I'll take my chances with the commissioners. I need no cure.

As the apothecary general of bedlam, I order you.

.\

If you insist upon it, I must force you.

Force me? Here? Look around you.

Do you think your friends will help you?

Sims: You expect them to band together and overwhelm me?

If they could reason so, they would not be here.

I warn you, sims. They know me.

They know I've helped them, been kind to them...

And so they love you and will aid you.

Let go of me. Man: Hold him.

- Warders, help! Warders! - Shout away, master sims.

Your men are used to bedlam and its noises.

They've heard too many cries to pay attention to one.

As for me, I'll just borrow your keys, master sims.

No, mistress Bowen. Not that way.

There's a warder in the hall and another at the front door.

But you heard him threaten me with the treatment.

I cannot stay here.

There's a little window that is left unbarred.

I think I know that window, master Todd.

You must be mad if you think I'd climb

through that window as master Colby did.

And others before him, I dare say.

I have been placed here by

my family to keep me from drink,

so that I may write and support them.

I know that little window is dangerous.

But those who tried before were men of small strength.

Tom could lift you through that window.

Now, you have more reason than the rest.

I expect more of you.

You know what I can do, don't you?

Sims: Then go to the door. Call the warders for me.

Sims: Do as I say!

But the rest, what will they do to me?

Don't be afraid of their vengeance.

They can't think far enough ahead for that.

They're lunatics, they've been tried

and found incompetent by fair trial.

Quo warranto. Corpus delicti cum grano salis.

Ah, yes, I'd forgotten you were a lawyer.

A lawyer, sir? I am a judge.

I am a judge. I, the most skilled of them all.

Judged, I say. Bailiffs, hold this man.

- Sidney: He disturbs the court. - You can go through that door.

- Try him. - A fair trial for master sims.

- A fair trial. - Mistress Bowen, speak to them.

Please speak to them, I beseech you.

Tom, you must get up on the roof.

You're to go first, and then you are to pull me up.

I am Solomon the wise. Split him in two.

Split him in two.

This man before you

to answer for these crimes.

Sidney: These crimes, which I shall number for you...

Sidney: Neglect. All: Yeah.

Sidney: Cruelty. All: Yeah.

Sidney: Whippings. Beatings. Dirty straw to lie upon.

All: Yeah. Sidney: Chains.

- All: Yeah. - Starvation. Stealing our food.

For all these crimes, milord and gentlemen of the jury

iaskjusfice.

,/

Sims: Let me speak. Let me speak.

My friends, I beg of you. Let me speak, let me speak.

- William. - Shh! This is god's house.

But thee should not have run from there.

Thee were to have a new hearing tomorrow.

He had some treatment he was to give me.

A treatment that made even the maddest

- I ran and they have him now. - Who has him?

The loonies, they have seized him

and are trying him in mockery.

They will kill him.

That way of any man.

They will. They will kill him.

Then thee must go to him.

Thee must speak to the poor

can one know what is in his mind?

Can one know what sickness lies in it?

As thee were kind to those in bedlam

so thee must be kind to those whose sickness

forces them to hurt their fellow man.

Has not sims a madness that thee can pity?

Come, we'll get wilkes. He'll help us.

- But why, sims, why? - I did not want to hurt you.

I did not want to put chains on you,

to steal from you, to starve you.

But you did. And now it's our turn.

They'll load you with chains,

scourge you with the cat.

Then you shall really know

what cruelty can be, I warn you.

Your vengeance isn't our present concern.

What you have done concerns us.

I've told you, because I had to.

Even as you do things because you have to do them.

- Even as you drink. - But why? Why?

Did you beat us out of fright, sims?

Did you starve us out of fear?

Split him in two.

Is that why you still threaten us if harm comes to you?

The rods, the chains. I warn you.

Todd: You spoke of your fear.

The great world of this age that gave me

my place, the comforts and the authority.

What that world thinks, I must think.

What they do, I must do.

But you know better. You're a scholar.

- A man of letters. - What I know means nothing.

I've had to Fawn and toady, and make a mock of myself

till all I could hear was the world laughing at me.

This, my place here...

Todd: You were afraid to lose it?

I had to please those to whose favor

- I was afraid. - You had to strike us?

Yes, yes. Can't you understand?

- I understand. - And our punishment?

Let me go and there will be no punishment.

He is sane. There is a fear within him.

A fear that strikes out, that claws and tears

at the world like a singed cat.

Todd: He is sane. Sidney: He will not punish us.

- Sidney: He is sane. - The man is sane.

- Split him in two. - No, wait. Wait, I say.

This man has been judged sane.

He has no place here. He must leave.

That he is sane and that he shall be free.

Sidney: They will punish us for this, all of us.

The apothecary general is dead.

We must hide him, so that they will never know.

And when we got here, master wilkes, he had gone.

Long said he just left, disappeared.

Cheif commissioner: Yes, that's all I could get out of long.

But I know they must have killed him.

It's so preposterous, master wilkes.

A man like sims doesn't just disappear.

And that's precisely why he disappeared.

They tried him...

Found him guilty of sanity, then let him go.

Can you imagine what was in his mind?

Wilkes: The mind of this man who had sworn by all

that was holy to aid and protect these people.

Can you imagine his feeling of guilt?

I think that's what drove him to run away.

Chief commissioner: No. They killed him.

Killed him and hid his body somewhere.

Wilkes: You can't prove that without finding his body.

Chief commissioner: We shall find it and we'll punish them.

Wilkes: Yes, I know. The chains, the beatings.

I tell you it's no good.

What you need here is a better man

to fill the post that sims has fled from.

Wilkes: And after him a better man and so on

until things here are as they should be.

All kindness and care for these poor, sick people.

You're not going to tell them.

You must know what it will mean to those people in there.

Is it not worth a little silence to save them suffering?

- I must tell the truth. - But no one has asked you.

I have heard there was much rejoicing in heaven

for the lost lamb that returned to the fold.

Silence can win you a lost lamb, master hannay.

I'm only asking you not to add

to the burden of those poor people.

You, who profess to love them.

These people are not guilty under the law.

Not answerable for what they do.

Why should I add to their burdens?

I should never have thought that of thee.

I should have known that thy hand would

not add to the weight that they must bear.

Thee has too much heart for that.

Are we lovers that you "thee" and "thou" me?